576

I
H&gtfSÄOS)
r
 L - S
7L

PROFILES OF MALAY CULTURE

HISTORIOGRAPHY, RELIGION AND POLITICS

Editor

Sartono Kartodirdjo

YCOR <«
I? I

MINISTRY OF EDUCATION AND CULTURE

DIRECTORATE GENERAL OF CULTURE
1976
 T] S

-
 Kata Pengantar

Proyek Inventarisasi dan Dokumentasi Kebudayaan Nasional yang

mulai dilaksanakan tahun 1972, bertujuan untuk menyelamatkan, meme-
lihara dan mengembangkan warisan budaya. Kegiatan yang dilakukan
adalah penggalian, penerbitan dan pengembangan seni budaya, terutama
yang sedang mengalami proses menghilang atau punah.
Sasaran yang hendak dicapai tahun 1973 adalah penyusunan doku-
mentasi : katalogus naskah Antropologi Indonesia-Kitab Babad-Arca Pe-
runggu Museum Pusat, Monografi, Kepurbakalaan, Musik Bambu Indonesia,
Seni Musik dan Tari, Bahasa dan Sastra, Wayang Purwa dan seni budaya
lainnya serta Kebudayaan Melayu.
Dengan telah selesainya penyusunan dokumentasi Studi Kebudayaan
Melayu berjudul : MALAY" CULTURE, suatu himpunan karangan Sejarah
dan Budaya berbahasa Inggeris, pemimpin proyek mengucapkan terima
kasih pada Team dan semua pihak yang membantu penyusunan dokumen-
tasi tersebut.
Mudah-mudahan dengan adanya dokumentasi ini dapat bermanfaat
bagi pembinaan dan pengembangan seni budaya dalam rangka mempertebal
kepribadian bangsa, kebanggaan nasional dan kesatuan nasional

Proyek Inventarisasi dan Dokumentasi Kebu-

dayaan Nasional, Direktorat Jendral Kebuda-
yaan, Departemen P dan K.

iii
 P R E F A C E

The present volume unites in some cases the papers presented to

three successive Conferences of the International Association of Historians
of Asia (IAHA). There is no intention to try for completeness; it is with
regret that we found ourselves unable to include other papers dealing with
the history of Southeast Asia. Since the funds for this publication are rather
limited, we have taken the liberty to select a small part of the papers pre-
sented at the Vlth IAHA Conference in Yogyakarta in 1974. Special at-
tention is given to historiography, religion and politics, three main aspects
of Malay Culture.
Malay Culture is to be considered as an amalgamation of Great
Traditions which came to the Malay realm and Little Traditions of the
local peoples, giving birth in the course of time to a new autonomous
culture. Its worldview, beliefsystems and processes of political development
will give some glimpses of its essential spirit. In order to present this pu-
blication as a coherent whole and to expand some themes with an important
bearing on Indonesian history, we have included some papers presented
in previous IAHA Conferences, i.e. the IVth in Kuala Lumpur in 1968,
and the Vth in Manila in 1971. The main reason for this expansion is
that this volume will be mainly distributed in Indonesia itself.
The papers remain in tact, both their content and 'their set-up. We
must apologize for the way in which we had to take liberties with the
papers in making small changes in some technical matters of writing.
The inordinate delay of the publication of these papers calls for a
word of explanation. As a rule the Committee of the IAHA Conference is
not committed to follow it up with the publication of the papers. Thanks
to the Directorate General of Culture of the Ministry of Education of In-
donesia, funds were made available to publish some papers having mainly
bearing on Malay Culture. We welcomed the opportunity to publish the
papers, since they could be communicated to all those who could not
participate in the Conference.
We are convinced that this volume forms a very valuable contribution
to the study of Malay Culture and will receive appreciation as such from
the community of scholars interested in the Malay peoples, their Culture
and History. These studies may help us to understand better the impact
and function of Malay Culture in contemporary life in the Southeast Asia
region.
We wish to conclude by expressing our gratitude to the scholars
who contributed to this volume and also to the Team for the Documen-
tation and Inventarization of National Culture, especially its Malay Culture
Section under Mr. Alip Soebagjo for the support lent us in publishing this
volume. Our thanks also go to Mr. Soeri Soeroto and Mr. Soetjipto for
their assistance in proofreading and other editorial work.

Yogyakarta, August 1976

Sartono Kartodirdjo

v
1

I
 TABLE OF CONTENTS
HISTORIOGRAPHY
SOME REMARKS ON THE STUDY OF S O - C A L L E D
HISTORICAL TEXTS IN INDONESIAN LANGUAGES
by A. Teeuw 3
SEJARAH RAJA - RAJA RIAU ; SOME ASPECTS, AS
TOLD BY THE JAKARTA MANUSCRIPTS
by S.W. Rudjiati Muljadi , - 27
THE BALINESE BABAD
by H.I.R. Hinder , , . .. 39
BUSTAN - COPY AND THE JOHOR - HISTORIES
by Ulrich Kratz , 53

RELIGION
SHI'A ELEMENTS IN MALAY LITERATURE
by Baroroh Baried , 59
THE INSTITUTIONALIZATION OF ISLAM IN THE
MALAY PENINSULA : SOME PROBLEMS FOR THE
HISTORIAN
by William R. Rolf 66
A GENERAL THEORY OF THE ISLAMIZATION OF
THE MALAY - INDONESIAN ARCHIPELAGO
by Syed Naguib Al-Attas 73
RELIGIOUS MOVEMENTS OF JAVA IN THE 19TH
AND 20TH CENTURIES
by Sartono Kartodirdjo 85

POLITICS
SIXTEENTH CENTURY TURKISH INFLUENCE IN
WESTERN INDONESIA
by A.J.S. Reid 107
CHANGES IN THE PATTERN OF MALAY POLITICS,
1629 — C. 1655
by t>.K. Basset 126
ACHEH SULTANATE UNDER SULTAN MOHAMMAD
DAUDSYAH AND THE DUTCH WAR
by Teuku Ibrahim Alfian 147
THE BERATIB BEAMAAL MOVEMENT IN THE
BANJAR WAR
by Soeri Soeroto 167
SOME REMARKS ON THE HARBOUR CITY OF
JAPARA IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY
by F.A. Soetjipto , . . . 178
TE OF f OK
HISTORIOGRAPHY
 SOME REMARKS ON THE STUDY OF SO-CALLED
HISTORICAL TEXTS IN INDONESIAN LANGUAGES *

A. TEEUW
UNIVERSITY OF LEIDEN

It may seem a somewhat risky undertaking, for a philologist and

student of literature, to venture into this meeting of a most distinguished
association of historians and to ask their attention for his approach to a
number of texts in Indonesian literatures which so far have mainly been
the object of research for historians. Yet the undertaking, if risky, seems
to be worth-while, and perhaps even long overdue, in view of the simple
but fundamental fact that the specimens of literature which I have in mind
are primarily texts, literary texts, which deserve and require to be studied
as literature, and with the tools which literary criticism, the study of litera-
ture in its broadest sense, has developed.
The aim of this paper, therefore, is to make some preliminary
observations on the problematics of the literary study of so-called historical
texts. This does not mean that the interest which historians so far have
shown in these texts is unwarranted. On the contrary, it is obvious that

T texts such as babads, sejarahs, silsilahs, etc. are of great interest for students
from various fields, not only historians, but also anthropologists, archeolo-
£ gists, linguists, students of religion, law, etc. Yet my main point of view
today will be that until now the consideration of these texts as first of all
specimens of literature has been largely neglected. This is not only to be
regretted because this species of literature forms an original and important
contribution of the Indonesian peoples to world literature, so that its
scholarly study should enrich the general and comparative study of literature.
It is also to be regretted because insufficient awareness of the special
character of this type of literature, for students from other fields of studies,
involves the risk of misunderstanding, misinterpreting and consequently
misusing these texts for their particular purposes. That this danger is not
merely hypothetical is obvious from certain studies in this field, which,
though highly meritorious and inventive, have not always done justice to
the texts as works of literature.
Of course, if anybody, it is the students of Indonesian literature
themselves who are first of all to be blamed for this state of affairs. So
far they have hardly begun to study these texts seriously in such a way
and with such methods as are in accordance with the present state and
development of literary theory, and consequently they have failed so far to
present scholars from o'lher fields with rehable comments, interpretations
and explanations of the texts under discussion.

* Paper presented at the Vth IAHA Conference, Yogyakarta, 1974.

3
 A. TEEUW l A y

This again has its specific reasons. For one thing, the study of
literature as a branch of science in the modern sense has developed much
later and slower than e.g., linguistics. Moreover, the study of literature
even until now has remained parochial to a very large extent, in the sense
that what is called algemene literatuurwetenschap in my language allgemeine
Literaturwissenschaft in German {until now a satisfactory English term has
yet to be coined for this field of studies) in practice has largely remained
Western literatuurwetenschap, as it is based to a large extent on the study
of European and modem American literature only.
Another reason why the study of Indonesian literature so far has
made little progress within the context of general literary studies is the
obvious fact that the number of scholars working in this field has always
been relatively small; moreover the purely philological study of these texts
(editing, translating, and commenting on them) has turned out to be a dif-
ficult and tedious job which so far has taken up most of the time and
energy of the scholars concerned.
However, as the more important texts in the field are gradually
becoming available in acceptable scholarly editions, as the number of scholars
working in this field, especially in Southeast Asia itself, is rapidly growing,
and as, moreover, these texts more and more draw the attention of scholars
from other field, the time has perhaps come to try and lay a satisfactory
theoretical foundation and to develop appropriate methods for the scholarly
study of this important group of texts. As historians for a long time already
have shown particular interest in these materials, it would not seem out of
place to ask their attention to some problems connected with the study of
these texts. This is especially the case now that this Congress is being held
here, in the country to the cultural heritage of which most of these texts
belong, in the region in which so many of them have been created, and at
the university which bears the name of the hero of some of the most im-
portant specimens of this historical literature.
However, 1 should wam my audience right at 'the beginning that I
do not pretend to give solutions for these problems today, nor do I feel
able 'to provide historians in particular with ready-made rules or tools,
enabling them to deal safely with such texts for their own purposes. But
hopefully something will already be gained if part of the problems can be
delimited a bit more sharply, some aspects of the meanings and functions
d these texts can be indicated somewhat more clearly and some possible
approaches can be suggested for further research.
In my discussion of these problems I will deal with the whole field
of historical literature written in Indonesian languages, specifically Old
Javanese, Javanese, Malay, Sundanese, Macassarese, Buginese, Balinese and
a few others. This does not mean that I pretend to have a first-hand scholarly
command of all 'the languages and hteratures involved. The number of texts
to which 1 have direct access is in fact very limited, partly because of the
circumstance that the number of languages which I know is limited, partly
because only a small part of the relevant texts are available in printed
editions. Therefore what I say is of necessity based on a limited and arbitrary

É
 THE STUDY OP SO - CALLED HISTORICAL TEXTS

selection. Yet I consider it worth-while, at this occasion, and from my

general point of view, to deal with Indonesian historical literature compre-
hensively, in the same way and with the same purpose as the Dutch anthropo-
logist J.P.B, de Josselin de Jong, in his inaugural address, dealt with what
he then called the Malay Archipelago as one field of ethnological studies.
IT seems to me that there are sufficient, correspondences and parallels between
the various texts and groups of texts to justify such a comprehensive ap-
proach, even though it is quite possible and even probable that further
detailed literary investigations will reveal different types and sub-types of
this gerne in Indonesian literature.
Thus, this paper deals with historical literature. This term, although
clearly indicating the general character of the texts involved, at the same
time evokes a number of difficult and complex problems. If we take this
two word term at its face value, it is clear that, first of all we are talking
about literature, texts which are written in various languages; this general
category as indicated by the noun is delimited and restricted by the adjective
historical, i.e. pertaining to history, referring to real or presumed facts,
events, persons in the past.
It may be useful to dwell briefly on each of these two words, even
though it is impossible, within the framework of this paper, to deal ex-
haustively with either of the two. The question of what is literature, literary
forms of language in contradistinction to other forms of language has
occupied philosophers and scholars in the Western world even since Plato
and Aristotle. Their idea was that literature and art in general is Mimesis,
which means something like interprétation or representation of reality; in
later times the terms creation and creative have been often used to indicate '
the activity of 'the writer, creative writing has been used as a synonym with 1
literature, the author is supposed to be creative in the sense that he creates
a world of his own and of its own, a "world in words", to quote the title
of a book by my Leiden colleague professor Dresden. This world in words
is autonomous, subject to rules of its own. In înôdèlTI terminology the words
pcuonal and fictionality are also often used to express the distinctive feature
of literary art : the work of art is fictional, not in the sense of fictitious,
or fantastic, but in the sense of forming a self-contained reality which as
such does not directly refer to the outside world. Therefore products of
literary language are fundamentally different from other forms of language
usage. Correspondingly the reader — much of modem theoretical research
is concerned with the reader — may be expected to read and judge the
work of art on the basis of its own laws. Specifically he is not required
cr supposed to check the narrative or poem against any form of reality
as he knows it from his experience or from other non-literary sources. To
cite a frequently used example : part of the novel War and Peace by Tolstoy
deals extensively with events which from our history books we use to know
as Napoleon's expedition to Russia. The difference between a military or
historical report and Tolstoy's novel is that in the latter the reader is sup-
posed to read and interprète the narrative about Napoleon's enterprise as
part of the total story; its function and meaning are to be determined within

5
 A. TEEUW

the totality of the novel, and from the literary point of view it is irrelevant
whether Tolstoy has handled the historical facts adequately as history. In
this way story or narrative as literary use of language may be opposed
to report as non-literary linguistic usage.,
This does not mean that the boundary is always sharp. We know
of the gerne of historical novels, and there are reports which are written
so well that they may acquire literary qualities, just as a scholarly paper
may possess literary qualities; in such a case we use the special term essay.
From these examples it is also apparent that apart from fictionality there
is another characteristic which should be present in a work of literary art;
through lack of a better term we usually call this the aesthetic quality. By
definition literature should fulfil aesthetic, qualitative requirements, even
though the specification of this qualitative or normative aspects of literature
bas given rise to endless problems and difficulties. The problem is also not
solved if we make the literary quality into an aspect of the structure of
the work of literary art, or paraphrase aesthetic as significant or meaningful.
However that may be, these short remarks should suffice as an in-
troduction to 'the problem of what we should call literature and how we
should define it; provisionally, and in fuU awareness of all the complications
involved we choose to indicate literature as briefly as possible as "significant
fiction", or with an older, 18th century definition given by the philosopher
Baumgarten we may say that the work of literary art isheterocosmic.Ni.e.
it creates "another world with its own self-consistent laws" (Hough, p. 12),
in which definitions the word significant or the morphüme-rasm/c in one
way or another, refer to what ordinary language calls beauty, the aesthetic
aspect of literature.
If we decide to paraphrase the term literature in this way it would
seem as if the adjective historical or historiographie is directly opposed to
this concept of literature. By definition, historical, used as qualification for
a text, indicates the fact that this text refers to the extralinguistic reality of
the past. In this sense the term comes close to being synonymous with re-
ferential, the more so as, e,g., in Indonesian historical texts the contempo-
rary reality does not remain outside the range of interest of the writer. One
could therefore also call these texts referential. Now in a recent book on
literary theory one of the leading scholars in this field in my country, Dr.
Maatje, (and he stands by no means alone in this conviction) has contended
that the non-referentiality of linguistic signs in texts which we call literature
is and should be no less than an axioma for the student of literature.
If this idea is correct the indication historical literature or referential
literature for a group of texts seems to contain a contradictio in terminis,
so that we will be forced to drop either the noun or the adjective, or to
deplete at least one of the two from its proper value. In that case my paper,
and also my presence at this congress would become altogether meaningless.
However, before drawing such a drastic conclusion, it would seem useful
to look at this apparent contradiction in some more detail, and to inves-
tigate both terms involved somewhat more closely, specifically with regard
to the Indonesian textual material which is the subject of this paper.
6
 THE STUDY OF S O - C A L L E D HISTORICAL TEXTS

Let me start this time with the referential or historical aspect, if 1

may use these two terms indiscriminately in our present context. It is true
that in general theoreticians of literature seem to agree on the fact that
literature as art by definition is non-referential, that it does not refer to the
outside reality, but presumes to create a reality of its own, heterocosmic or
. autonomous, selfcontained or self-consistent. However, this does not mean
that the world of literary creation and the real world in which human beings
are hving or have been living have no relation whatsoever to each other.
At the most trivial level this is already clear from the fact that a novel can
be wholly fictional and yet be located in London or Jakarta and set in a
definite historical period, whereas even so-called historical figures such as
Winston Churchill or president Soekarno may "occur" in it. Specifically in
one of the most recent literary genres, the novel, authors generally tend to
create the impression that their book is true and realistic, although this im-
pression is deceiving, deliberately deceiving, one should say, as this realistic
appearance, which in one of the typical aspects of the genre, does not at
all alter its basically fictional character.
At a more sophisticated level one can state that the world in words
is always created by an author who is otherwise an ordinary human being,
a man or woman who lives in some form of society, within a historical reality
of space and time, and who cannot but write from his experience as such,
in the same way as the reader cannot but bring into his activity as a reader
his experience of reality, whether he is aware of this or not. In 'this respect
the instrument which the writer and the reader have in common, and through
which they communicate — language —, is of crucial importance. For even
if it is true, generally speaking, that literature is non-referential, in contra-
distinction to ordinary language, it remains no less true that the words and
other linguistic elements as used by the author and understood by the reader
have their denotata, their counterparts in the outside world; their referential
value is at the disposal of the reader as much as of the author, it forms
part of his interpretative instrumentary, and plays its decisive role in his
reading and understanding the book. Or to put it in other terms : it may
be true that Plato, when speaking of Mimesis as the essential characteristic
of art did not mean imitation, as it has often been wrongly translated, but
rather interpretation, reinterpretation, Darstellung of a reality of its own, yet
this other reality as far as literary art is concerned can only exist at the
grace of the primary function of language as an instrument for communi-
cation concerning extralinguistic reahties. Also if we look at the matter from
the side of reality it is obvious that the distinction between literary and
referential use of language is neither absolute nor watertight. It is a com-
monly known fact that it is impossible to render reality totally and completely
in language. Every endeavour to describe in language facts, conditions, events
as they occur in real life is doomed 'to be fragmentary, partial, selective,
subjective, arbitrary, manipulating or whatever adjective one wants to use.
This is true even for a so-called objective thing such as a police report.
Everybody writes;, cannot but write, from a certain point of view, selects
from an endless number of details those which seem to be relevant for his

7
 A. TEEUW

purpose. A police report, a leaflet for the promotion of tourism, and a

technical advice by an expert on urban traffic problems will give a totally
different picture of a certain traffic situation in Amsterdam. All three may
be true in their own way, but even if the three are taken together we certainly
will not have "the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth".
All this does not go to say that the difference between literary and
non-literary language, in terms of referentiality, is only a matter of degree.
It remains true that the characteristic aspect of the literary writing is formed
by its self-consistent meaning, by its particular arrangement and structuring
of a reality which is autonomous in the sense that the reader on principle
need not worry, not even think about its relation to outside reality. The
question for him is not whether the story has truly happened, or whether it
is truly reported, but how true it is as a story : how internally meaningful,
consistent and satisfactory of its own account. It is not impossible apriori that
a real event produces true story, but in that case it is the merit of the author
who has succeeded in transforming reality into literature in his own way
and with his own specific means. It is certain that his story will be different
from the report about the same event by the journalist or the historian because
the reader of the newspaper or the history book is interested in what really
happened; if possible, he likes to have a picture accompanying the report,
m order to be able to see for himself, or he wants to be enabled by the
writer to check the report through the references given in the footnotes and
bibliography. A novel has neither pictures nor footnotes or bibliography.
Let me give an example of the difference between the factual report
and the event made into a story from Indonesian sources. Brandes in his
edition of the Pararaton, which is still an exemplary specimen of philological
and historical research, in addition to the text itself has published many
materials which are relevant for its interpretation. Among other things he
edited and translated large fragments of the Gunung Butak inscription (Çaka
1216 — A.D. 1294) in which the village of Kudadu is proclaimed a free
grant by King Krtarajasa, for 'the benefit of the village head of Kudadu
and his posterity.
In what we may assume to be beautifully worded chancellary language
the royal decree is proclaimed, completely in accordance with the correct
norms and forms, giving all the details required to specify the motivation
for this decree. The inscription reports about the time when the king was
still known as prince Wijaya. He got involved in the war between the kings
of Tumapel and Kediri, Krtanagara and Jaya Katwang. Having sided with
the former he had fought a losing battle against the troops of the latter
and had been forced to flee, losing most of his men. Ultimately finding
himself in a very bad predicament he was received and taken care of in
a most hospitable way by the village head of Kudadu. The latter offered
him drinks and food and a temporary shelter, finally helping him to escape
stffely to Madura. It was as a recompense for his help, in these most pre-
carious circumstances, that the village headman, shortly after Wijaya's
accession to the throne in the new capital of Majapahit, received the royal
grant which this edict was to promulgate and confirm.

S
 THE STUDY OP S O - C A L L E D HISTORICAL TEXTS

Brandes himself has already compared this inscription with the text
of the Pararaton. "Vergelijkt men het verslag van Raden VVijaya's zwerftocht
in de oorkonde, met hetgeen er in den tekst hierboven van staat, dan zegt
men dat dit laatste slechts een flauwe weerspiegeling is van het in het of-
ficieele stuk medegedeelde". (If we compare the report on Raden Wijaya's
wanderings in the inscription with what is said about it in the Pararaton,
it is obvious that the latter is only a vague reflection of what has been men-
tioned in the official document.) From his historiographie angle Brandes'
conclusion is doubtless correct. The historian is much better served by the
data in the inscription than by those found in the Pararaton. However, the
question seems warranted whether this is a fair comparison, whether both
texts can be considered from the same point of view, whether both can be
called a report, as Brandes does ("verslag"). The inscription indeed includes
a report, which is meant to be a registration of the events as they had hap-
pened. As such it is completely functional, because it serves as a public
motivation for the royal grant; for that purpose it had to be as accurate and
unambiguous and matter-of-fact as possible. Compared with this report, the
Pararaton tells a story, which is functional in its own right, within the context
oi the whole text. It is significant fiction which is not primarily intended to
tell the reader what has really happened at some point in the past, but which
is supposed to give him a coherent and meaningful representation of crucial
events in the past. It is therefore quite understandable that, e.g., many
toponyms and proper names from the inscription are lacking in the text.
However, there are other elements present in the Pararaton which are not
to be found in the inscription, elements which may be assumed, if not
proven, to have a function of their own in the story. I refer to the fight
of Wijaya with Kebo Mundarang, a combat de prestige as they are so typical
for this type of literature, and which in this case is preparing the way for
the final settling of accounts between the two; also to the presentation of
a gift of cloth, by Wijaya, to his loyal servants, a typical royal gesture
even in this most difficult situation; furthermore the attention paid to the
accidental finding of one of the daughters of king Krtanagara, destined
to be the bride of Wijaya, and her being carried along all during the flight;
this is also an element which ties the story together as a whole, and makes
the temporary defeat and wanderings of Wijaya functional in the larger
context. Then there is also Wijaya's great care for one of his followers,
Gajah Pagon, who is severely wounded. This care is another sign of Wijaya's
destination of being a great king. He does not leave Gajah Pagon behind
until he has provided him with a safe shelter. Finally and most convincingly
there is the curious story of what happened in Pandakan: when Wijaya
asks the buyut there for a kelapa muda, a young coconut to quench his
thirst, it turns out to be full of nasi putih, boiled rice, another illustration
of Wijaya's sekti. It is particularly this detail, when we compare it to the
sober, matter-of-fact information in the inscription about the food and
drink and beras which is offered to Wijaya by the head of Kudadu, which
makes it clear how different both 'texts are and why we have to call the
one a report, and the other a story. But this also implies that there is no
justification for a negative judgement about the Pararaton from the point

9
 A. TEEUW

of view of its usefulness for historical research. What we need is a literary

analysis of the Pararaton. I will come back to some of the problems involved
in such an analysis later in my paper.
Yet, the distinction between factual report and significant fiction is
not without its problems when we try to apply it to the literature discussed
here. For one thing, the distinction as made in Western literature takes it
tor granted that it is in general possible to state whether a text aims at
reporting true facts or whether it pretends to create an autonomous world
in words. As a matter of fact, in the study of Western literature, which
forms the main focus of literary theory, specifically in the case of novels,
this distinction normally does not form a serious proolem. Nor is the problem
complicated by the fact that modern research stresses so much the role of
the reader as the one whose interpretation really counts. "Lezen is het begin,
midden en einde van alle literatuuronderzoek" (reading is the beginning, the
middle and the end of all literary criticism) according to the principle for-
mulated by W. Blok in his penetrating analysis of one of the famous novels
by the Dutch author, Louis Couperus, Van oude mensen, de dingen die
voorbijgaan. What is relevant is "het verhaal zoals (dat) voor het geestesoog
van de lezer zweeft" (the narrative as it occurs to the mind of the reader)0
Not for nothing Blok calls his book Verhaal en Lezer.
This kind of analysis generally assumes tacitly that the reader, as
far as cultural and temporal situation are concerned is close enough to the
writer in order to read the book from the same general background as
the latter wrote it. Even then difficult questions remain, to witness the
discussions as to whether a text as such ("tel quel") speaks for itself, and
has to be analyzed on its own merits, or whether biographical and situational
information is relevant for an adequate analysis and interpretation. In the
texts with which we are dealing here, however, the situation is very different.
The modern reader who as a student of literature occupies himself with
Indonesian historical texts, can with certainty be said not to bs the reader
for whom the text was originally intended. And even if such a reader with
much pain and diligence, and thanks to acquired or perhaps innate con-
geniality, succeeds in understanding the story at least in its formal sense,
as a text, it is probable that he will be still far from an adequate inter-
pretation of the story in its own cultural and historical framework. Speci-
fically the boundary which he will be inclined to draw in such a story
between fictional and referential may be quite different from what the writer
intended and what his comtemporaries read or heard in the text.
In order to make clear what, I mean, let me give another example.
The first historical text in Javanese which through a modern edition with
translation has become available in the West is probably the Geschiedenis
van Baron Sakender, een Javaansch verhaal, as its editor and translator,
A.B. Cohen Stuart called his book in 1850, In his introduction Cohen Stuart
already pointed out that, whatever could be expected from this text, it was
certainly not historiography in 'the modern sense, in spite of the fact that
in the material out of which the story is constructed all kinds of historical
facts, events, names, ete. can be easily recognized. These names and facts

10
 THE STUDY OF SO - CALLED HISTORICAL TEXTS

are not only Javanese. It is one of the fascinating aspects of this story that
all kinds of non-Javanese historical persons figure largely in it : apart from
the usual number of Indian protagonists, we meet in this text the Spaniards
and their king, the Dutch East India Company, perhaps Jan Coen, frater-
nizing with Alexander the Great in his Arab-Indonesian form of Iskandar
who is the title hero of the story. There can be no doubt about the story
bearing a fictional character in our sense of the word. Cohen Stuart himself
has characterized the work as "een oorspronkelijtk voortbrengsel van Ja-
vaansche fantasie, zonder andere grondslagen dan verwarde herinneringen
uit verschillende tijdperken der geschiedenis" (an original, product of Ja-
vanese fantasy, without foundations other than confused memories from
different eras of history).
In a beautiful and important paper of 1927 Pigeaud has pointed out
C that Cohen Stuart's qualification, if understandable from a Western distinction
]_ between history and fiction, is not adequate to the meaning and function of
this story within the framework of Javanese literature and history. The
C- Baron Sakender is certainly a work of histoiy, een geschiedwerk, in the
Javanese sense, but this is circumscribed by Pigeaud as "een rangschikking
en, zoodra het eenigszins mogelijk is, verklaring van feiten en ver-
halen, zooals men die vernam en in zich vermocht op te nemen, binnen
het grooter verband van eigen wereldbeschouwing" (an arrangement, and if
and when at all possible an explanation of facts and stories as they were
perceived and could be assimilated by the Javanese within the larger frame-
work of their conception of the world). Not facts and events were Important,
but the framework within which history, the course of events takes place
stereotypically. In historical persons and events,, elements of this stereotypic
_^ course of events are recognized, and in the ultimate representation the story
r ' is built up on the basis of these recognized and identified elements. Pigeaud
pointed out that in a culture such as the Javanese not only the representation
JJ of history, but also the preception and interpretation of actual events is
. , strongly determined by the prevailing world-view.
In this connection it is significant, as has been pointed out by various
authors, first of all by Brandes, and as was of course well-known to Ja-
vanese writers themselves, that a Javanese babad, which we today usually
call a history, often takes the form and structure of a wayang lakon, a story
of the Javanese puppet theatre. For the Javanese, the story of the wayang,
which in spite of all its formal variations is always basically the same,
represents the prototype of worldly events, the basic pattern of human
history, and as such it gives meaning to actual events. On principle, first
of all those facts, events and persons are real and relevant which can be
identified with and fitted into that essential story, which is the only true
human story, into that exemplary history which is the ever-recurring history
of mankind.
If this, then, is the way in which we have to look at Javanese his-
torical writings (and it may to a greater or smaller extent also be true for
other Indonesian historiography), the problem" of the boundary between
fictional and referential in Javanese literature is fundamentally different

11
 A. TEEUW

from what we find in Western literature. On the one hand the Javanese
ascribe to the texts with which we are dealing a referential character : they
tell him about his reality, in past and present. On the other hand we tend
to recognize in these texts a world in words which in many respects, both
formally and in content, complies with all the requirements of fictionality:
as Cohen Stuart already said: "een oorspronkelijk voortbrengsel van Ja-
vaansche fantasie", an original product of Javanese fantasy — or should
I translate fiction ? For I tend to interprète Cohen's statement, within the
context of his overall analysis, less negatively than Pigeaud, who qualified
it as "vernietigende oordeelvellingen" (amiiiihilating judgments). A text such
as the Baron Sakender is both fictional and referential but the opposition is
irrelevant from the point of view of the writer and »he reader for whom
the text was written.
I do not wish to imply that the problem is unique for Javanese or
Indonesian literature. It. seems that, e.g., Homer too pretended to write the
true story of the battle of Troy, i.e.. its history, and to do it as accurately
as possible; only on the basis of this assumption certain aspects of the Iliad
can be explained satisfactorily, even if today and for modern research the
Il'ad and the Odysse from first of all stories in optima forma, stories, which
have to be read and interpreted as fictional texts, quite apart, from the
reality which they may reflect, or even have presumed to describe.
Comparable things might perhaps be said about msdieval Western texts as
well as about a great many forms of oral and written literature from the
noii-Western world.
These examples show that texts which originally have been written
at least partly with referential purpose, gradually may lose their referential
character, whereas by virtue of their aesthetic qualities they may lend
themselves to being read as "pure fiction", and consequently be analysed
through methods of literary criticism. But they also force us to take into
account the problem of the author's purpose and the social function of the
text. In the analysis of a modern novel we need not worry much about the
problem of function. It should become apparent from the analysis, and
literary criticism has been little interested in any explicit message or any
intentional social function of works of art. This is also occasioned by the
fact that writer, reader and critic work from a common cultural background
and possess a common knowledge. If, however, there is good reason to
assume that certain texts did have a specific socio-cultural function, that
writers by writing such a text did intend to play some role in the social
configuration of their time, if furthermore we may assume that the readers
(or hearers) of the text had similar expectations with regard to the effect
of its recitation or reading, if, finally, the cultural context in which writer
and reader or listener operated is quite different from the one in which the
critic lives and works, then it is inevitable for the critic to concern himself
explicitly with this function, at the risk of misunderstanding or misinterpre-

The first scholar who has occupied himself explicitly and fun-
damentally with Indonesian texts and their function, even if not primarily
12
 THE STUDY OP S O - C A L L E D HISTORICAL TEXTS

with historical ones, was W.H. Rassers. He has argued, especially for the
so-called Panji stories, and not without good reasons, that in order to
understand and interpret these stories correctly insight into their function
as myths in Javanese society was indispensable. Specifically he pointed
out that one of the main functions of this myth was to structure the way
ot thinking and the beliefs of the Javanese, and consequently to give shape
and direction to the way in which they experience and interpret reality.
Therefore Panji is not distorted or confused history, on the contrary, to the
Javanese history is the actualization of this central myth, in which the
eternal, stereotypic cycle of human events and experiences is expressed.
Apart from the question whether Rassers in detail was always
correct in his interpretations, his approach and his point of view has turned
out to be fruitful and useful. Pigeaud, e.g., in his article on the story of
Baron Sakender and subsequent interpretative activities with regard to
Javanese littérature, has made good use Rassers' basic ideas.
The scholar who most persistently has followed the lines laid out
by Rassers with regard to the study of Javanese literature generally, and
historical literature specifically is professor JC.C. Berg. Still unsurpassed,
according to my opinion and still of fundamental importance is his long
essay on Javaansche Geschiedschrijving, which somewhat out of place has
been included in the five volume Geschiedenis van Nederlansch Indie.
Fortunately this paper now is available again in Indonesian translation.
Starting from the king as the bearer of sekti, and as such bearer of the
vital power for his people;, Berg in his article has drawn the picture of the
pujangga, 'the writer of babads as the priest, the verbi minister, whose aim
and function is to support and strengthen the ruler and the realm, and
who is qualified to do so by virture of the power of the magic word. It is
this social function of the pujangga as a language priest, which determines
the nature and specific character of his work, not, e.g., the need to render
and evoke as accurately as possible the historical facts as they really
happened. The conception of development itself is alien to the Javanese
conception of history : past, present and future are essentially identical;
and meaningful significant stories about the past are fundamentally relevant
for the present and future as well.
If professor Berg is right — and according to my opinion his ideas
as developed in his 1938 paper still hold good, even if one may have
different opinions on many details — it is inevitable that for a proper inter-
pretation of historical texts their function will have to be taken into account.
Moreover it follows from his considerations, and those of Rassers, that
the distinction between historical and non - historical literature has only
a relative value; within the framework of Javanese culture a babad, a
wayang kulit lakon and a Panji story have essential traits in common.
The question of how to deal with function has turned out to be a
difficult one, if we try to do justice to the intentions of the Javanese
author and the expectations of his reader. This becomes clear from several
subsequent studies by Berg, and also from the book by professor Wolters

13
 A. TEEUW

on the Fall of Sriwijaya. Both scholars have tried to elaborate and apply
the point of view that Nagarakrtagama and Sejarah Melayu cannot be
treated as Western works of history, or as sources for the study of the
history of Majapahit and Malacca and their predecessors respectively.
Basing 'themselves on the intention which the Indonesian writers are
supposed to have had when writing their works, they have tried to interpret
these texts from the angle of the writers, ascribing to them on one hand
a certain amount of factual historical knowledge, and on the other certain
mental processes. By retracing those mental processes, those chains of
thoughts of the original authors, these Western scholars ultimately hoped
to be able to reconstruct the factual knowledge which they supposed to have
been available to the writers, a knowledge which the latter, from their
priestly or genealogist's point of view have manipulated into what is called
X a distorted view of history. In this way it is thought, that the texts can
£ still be exploited as useful sources for the study of Indonesian history.
It cannot be denied that studies such I mentioned are fascinating,
and that their results and conclusions at 'times are spectacular. It is also
very difficult to disprove their conclusions. Yet at the same time the reader
cannot help having uneasy feelings when reading books such as the more
recent ones by Berg and also Wolters' study, which as far as it deals with the
Sejarah Melayu, reminds one so strongly of Berg's publications.
' If one tries to account for these uneasy feelings, one of the main
problems turns out to be that the texts themselves rarely, if ever, give
the means to check the intentions ascribed to the Indonesian authors by
these Western scholars. We may parhaps formulate the problem in this
v/ay : according to the method applied the Indonesian authors are supposed
to have transformed the historical facts available to them into a story,
the factor of transformation being the function, or : R X f — S,
R standing for report, f for function and S for story. The trouble is
that here we have one comparison with two unknown factors, which by
definition is unsolvable. What is done to solve the comparison never-
theless is to manipulate and stretch the factor f until there emerges a
factor R which is considered to be consistent and satisfactory as a historical
report. Once more I want to stress that the ingenuity and perseverance
with which such type of research has been conducted in the cases mentioned
is highly admirable. Yet the solution on principle remains arbitrary and
un verifiable.
Do we have to acquiesce in such unsolvable comparisons and do
we have to accept that so-called historical texts in Indonesian languages
for the historian have no other importance than as a means of illus-
trating that which is already known from other sources, or of explaining
the sociocultural pattern in which Indonesians live and think? I think it
would be too early to consider the case as hopeless, and I feel that it
may be possible to try and bring such problems closer to a solution,
even if it is true that no quick and ready-made solutions will ever be
found.

u
 THE STUDY O F S O - C A L L E D HISTORICAL TEXTS

The important question apparently is how to find out more, in a

verifiable way, about the function of a specific text or of a certain type
of text ; what we need is a key to the relation between the narrative
aspect which is so typical for nearly all these texts, and the referential
materials upon which it may be based and which are of such primary
importance for the historians. Modern literary analysis and other methods
of literary research as they have been developed would seem to offer
possibilities for the understanding also of the function of texts, in relation
to its structure which so far have remained largely unused. Therefore,
1 intend to devote the rest of this paper to discussing some aspects of
such an approach and some problems which will turn up in such an
investigation.
As has been observed before, the study of Indonesian literature with
literary means has so far been restricted mainly to philology proper. Quite
a few texts have been edited more or less critically, translated, commented
upon, provided with linguistic notes and with observations on literary
history, foreign origin of stories and motifs, and in such a way these texts
have been made available for a larger group of students. Genuine literary
criticism with regard to Indonesian classical texts has been rare so far.
Those who have come closest to it are, first, of all Rassers in his disser-
tation of 1922 on the Panji romance afterwards Ras in his dissertation of
1968 on the Hikayat Banjar, but even they have worked with a concept
of function which is not primarily based on textual analysis. They have
tried to explain the structure and elements of their texts from the presup-
posed function, although especially in the analysis by Dr. Ras there is a
continuous interaction between structure and function.
So far the only author who, to my knowledge, has really operated

J from the literary structure of the text is (P.J. Worsley, in his Leiden
dissertation of 1972. His edition and translation of the Babad Buleleng,
a Balinese babad of fairly recent origin is preceded by an introductory
chapter which is called : an aiudysis of form, theme and function. It is not
possible here to do full justice to Worsley's book, but his very convincing
conclusion, based on a most careful analysis of the text, is that the Babad
Buleleng is a dynastic genealogy of the ruling clan of Den Bukit, from its
first ancestor, Ki Gusti Ngurah Panji Sakti up till the time of the author of
the Babad, somewhere in the 19th century. The genealogy, which is given in
great detail in the text, functions structurally as a frame, linking one
narrative passage to another. As the genealogical succession primarily
concerns the ruler, it is he, the king, who dominates the story; a prominent
role in the narrative element is given to the evocation of the ideal image
of ruler and realm. This forms a dominant motif, structuring and propelling
the course of events. The figures in the story are abstract and anonymous
men who behave in a way wholly predictable within the logic of the image
in which they have been formed. Not only are the figures in the story
depersonalized, they, and the story itself, are also detemporalized. The
course of time which is very clearly marked in the babad 'exists only
within the babad; it endures only as long as 'the genealogical sequence 15
 A. TEE U W

endures; it is unrelated to the passage of time outside the babad".

On the basis of these findings Worsley arrives at a very sceptical judsment
as to the immediate usefulness of this particular text for historical study.
The narrative has a logic of its own, it possesses an inner necessity, a built-in
propelling force, determined by the laws of the story as such. In fact, Worsley
practically inverts the perspective of previous historizing analyses of babads
He no longer says that the data from the text which do not seem to
fit with historical data are perhaps to be explained as legendary elements,
or as corruptions of the facts ; on the contrary, he says "It is possible that
certain problematic elements in the babad (that is, problematic from the
point of view of the textual analysis) can be explained by historical facts".
Iu other words, if the story at some point does not seem to be self-
consistent this may be due to a disturbing interference by reality ; the story
may be distorted by factual data. That is indeed something quite different
from a history distorted by literary motifs, let alone by a presupposed
functional preoccupation of the writer! In my opinion Worsley's approach
and handling of this text is essentially correct, and in the long run it is
also the only approach which promises to give good results, even if at
short term his conclusion regarding the a-historicity of the babad may not
sound encouraging.
One of the important things about Worsley's analysis is also that he
has made it quite clear that a text such as this, which from the Western
point of view seem to be very heterogeneous, should be treated as a unity,
the parts of which can only be correctly understood and interpreted in
their interdependence and their dependence upon the whole. In the broader
context of Indonesian historical literature this is important for the proper
understanding of the cooccurrence of genealogical materials and narrative
elements which is so common in this literature. It may indeed be called
one of its most general characteristics. It is also one of its confusing
aspects, both for historians and for students of literature. For the historian
at least some of the narrative elements seem to be senseless or irrelevant,
as they are often so evidently a-historical, whereas he may hope that at
least the genealogical parts can provide him with information, which, if
not completely reliable, may at least be useful. For the students of literature
these genealogical lists, sometimes endlessly protracted, are dead wood on
the living tree of the story, which they would prefer to cut out for their
purpose, Worsley has convincingly shown that both of us. historians and
students of literature, will have to learn how to cope with the fact that
both elements belong to the structure of a historical text, and that we
will have to try to understand them in their proper function and in their
interdependence.
This does not go to say that the relationship between these two
elements in such texts is always the same. If, e.g., within the context of
Malay historical literature, we compare the Sejarah Melayu to the Hikayat
Patam, it is obvious that in spite of their typological similarity, genealogical
information occupies a rather different place in them. According to Rool-
16
 THE STUDY OF SO - CALLED HISTORICAL TEXTS

vink's .diachronical analysis of the Sejarah Melayu this text developed out
of a genealogy, which has gradually been expanded and ornated with
narrative elements, anecdotes, moralistic expositions and information on adat,
until finally it acquired its present form, or rather forms. I do not want
to detract from the importance of Roolvink's study, and I think that he
has brought forward strong arguments in favour of his conclusions. Yet it
will also be necessary to undertake a „synchronical investigation into the
structure of the text as we have it now, because it shows a literary unity
of its own, which cannot be satisfactorily explained by a study of the
various elements of which it consists. Special attention will have to be given
to the relation between genealogical and narrative elements and to their
respective function in the total story. It would be unsatisfactory to approach
the text as if it were an uncritical farrago of heterogeneous elements. It is
clear that the Sejarah Melayu has precisely 'the form which according to
Malay norms such a text is supposed to have. It represents indeed a model
of Malay historiography.
In the Hikayat Patani the relation between narrative and genealogical
element is different; the difference is first of all a quantitative one, the
genealogies being much more limited in scope and length; only facts regard-
ing the ruling dynasïy itself are being offered to the reader, casually as -
it were, in between the narrative parts which seem to dominate. The Hikayat
Patani is much more a specifically dynastic text than the Sejarah Melayu,
if only because the bendaharas hardly occur in it. This difference probably "/
does reflect a difference in socio-political structure between Patani and
Malacca. It is remarkable that this socio-political difference is reflected
both in the structure of the narrative and in the amount of genealogical
information contained in the text. Yet, the Hikayat Patani strongly under-
lines in its own way the literary function of the genealogy, by 'telling twice,
in two different ways, as an introduction and as a conclusion, the story
of the divine origin of the dynasty. It is this divine origin which sets the
tone for the story and rounds it off. It is the framework in which the story
is caught.
Very different again is the structuration of the story, and the role
played by the genealogical element in it, in the Hikayat Aceh as it has been
edited by Dr. Teuku Iskandar. There the focus of interest is not the dynasty
as such, but the ruling king Iskandar Muda and his greatness, and all the
genealogical information, all the narrative elements are ultimately intended
to glorify this king. Dr. Iskandar was doubtless right in stressing the point
that Indian literary traditions, probably from the Mogul court, have provided
the model for this text, but even if foreign influence is unmistakable, it
would seem worthwhile to investigate its literary structure more carefully.
Only when such an analysis is available can we hope to discuss more pro-
fitably the historicity of various details in the text. One may have much
appreciation for Penth's efforts to investigate the historical background of
certain elements in the Hikayat, and still at the same time feel that essen-
tially his approach is likely to fail if we do not first of all try to understand
the relevance of such elements in the story as a whole.

Iff
 A. TEEUW

In this connection I would also like to say a few words about

Macassarese-Buginese historiographical texts. I do not pretend to have any
specific knowledge in this field, nor do I know the languages in which these
texts have been written, yet, thanks mainly to Noorduyn's dissertation we
have a very good survey of at least the so-called historical texts from Wajo',
and especially an exemplary edition, with translation, comment and ex-
planation, of one example of this kind of Buginese historiography. Noorduyn
has pointed out that the text which he has edited is the result, or rather
a result, of agelong activity of editing, regrouping and continuing historical
traditions. His particular text is the result of a "herhaaldelijk en met wisselend
succes ondernomen poging om op grond van talrijke losse verhalen en kortere
berichten over de zestiende eeuw, die, naar men moet aannemen, grotendeels
mondeling waren overgeleverd, een aaneengesloten en chronologisch geordend
beeld samen te stellen" (the result of an effort, undertaken repeatedly and
with varying success, to compose one continuous and chronologically ordered
picture of the past on the basis of numerous separate stories and short
pieces of information about the sixteenth century. In this process the
chronicle, or at least its major part, forms a "hoogtepunt" (highlight). "Het
is een tot een groots geheel uitgegroeid geschiedwerk, dat als zodanig be-
wondering verdient door zijn over het geheel hechte chronologische ordening,
zijn streven naar het laten overheersen van historische ontwikkeling en het
afstand nemen tot legendarische en mythische stof en tot verklaringen van
de adat." (It is a work of history which has expanded into a grand com-
position. It deserves our admiration for its chronological structure which
on the whole is solid, for its effort to give priority to historical development
and for its keeping aloof from legendary and mythical materials and from
explanations of adat).
On reading the text one finds Noorduyn's evaluation fully justified;
the text provides a story which gives meaning to reality through the means
of language, selectively, critically, structuring and creating a world which
may be assumed to have represented adequately, both to the writer and
the reader, the reality of the past, at the same time forming a world of
its own, autonomous and self-contained. Within the story there are obvious
highlights, as, e.g., the story about the great hero and leader Puang ri
Ma'galatung, whose life story is treated in a normative and exemplary way;
all the adhortations and admonitions concerning the rights and duties of
the king are put in his mouth. He is also largely made responsible for the
expansion of Wajo', through a narrative which Noorduyn qualified as
"strategically comprehensible and coherent", at the same time observing
that through lack of other data it cannot be decided whether this represents
historical reality or a construction of the historian. This last remark is again
the critical question which the Western historian has to put, but it is a
question which is irrelevant for the literary analysis of the text, and it would
not even be impossible, that a critical analysis of the text as a narrative
might help us to come closer to an answer to that question. This text, too,
is characterized by genealogical passages which are so numerous, and
sometimes so long that Noorduyn had them printed in compress setting,

18
 THE STUDY OF S O - C A L L E D HISTORICAL TEXTS

in order not 'to have the story overgrown completely by these genealogies.
It is an interesting problem whether, and to what extent, in the case of
this text also, as in 'that of the Babad Buleleng, closer analysis would give
better insight into the function of 'the genealogical fragments of the text.
A text of a very different type is the Sejarah Banten. Thanks to
the dissertation of professor Hoesein Djajadiningrat we are quite adequately
informed about this text. He has presented his readers with an exemplary
analysis, both from the viewpoint of philology and literary history and of
history, he has given an accurate and erudite analysis of this text within the
whole of Javanese historiography, and the aspects of the text which he called
legendary have also been studied carefully by him, including much compa-
rative material. In view of the time in which this book was written (1913)
it should be called a masterful achievement, after Brandes' edition of the
Pararaton the second highlight in the study of Javanese historiography.
Yet it seems obvious that in the case of this text too, a new approach
is warranted. For one thing, this Sejarah is rather remarkable within the
context of Indonesian historical literature because it is one of the few
examples of a so-called Rahmenerzählung, Trame-story^The story is told
by a teacher to a student, and his purpose is to inform the pupil, as a
piospective servant at the court, about all he needs to know about the
rights and obligations of ruler and servant; specifically the student asks
him to tell about the genealogies of kings, in order to make him well
informed about dynastic relationships between past and present.
This literary form is maintained throughout the story : sometimes
the pupil is admonished not to ask too much, sometimes the storyteller
admits that he has forgotten a story, at some points he mentions a special
source for certain factual information. This information is not restricted
to historical data: the final part of the text contains lessons on the jihad,
the holy war. At the end the pupil asks what happened after the Pajakarta,
but the teacher asks to be excused, he is too tired — which is of course
a literary device for ending the story at this point. It is physically impossible
for 'the guru to have recited the whole preceding text in one session anyway.
The Guru explains that he has only got a draft of the subsequent events,
which he preserves in his chest together with mystical books, but as yet
he has not had an opportunity to transpose the draft into tembang (poetry).
In our terms; to transform the report into fiction, by giving meaning to
the historical data by way of literature,. This remark by the author of the
Sejarah by itself already shows clearly how such a text aims at being
literature in our sense of the word, and this is strongly underlined by the
specific structure of this story. We are indeed not far away from all kinds
of moralistic-didactic texts in Javanese literature for which this form of a
dialogue between guru and murid has often been chosen.
It is also for that reason that Hoesein's division of the text into one
part which has nothing to do with the history of Banten proper, and another
which deals with it specifically, is not adequate to the character of the
text as a narrative, much though we understand Hoesein's motive for doing

19
 A. TEEUW

so. In addition to professor Hoesein's study the text requires a comprehensive

literary analysis which is in keeping with the specific form which the author
has chosen. For the same reason the division into a historical and a legendary
part cannot be taken as a starting point for an analysis, as it is reasonable
to assume that neither for the writer nor for the listener is this a relevant
distinction. Another remarkable feature of this story is that it only contains
two relatively short genealogies, placed at the beginning of the narrative
fragments, functioning as it were as the starting motor which gets the story
moving. Special attention will have to be given, in this text 'too, to the
relationship between the genealogies and the rest of the narrative.
I hope that these brief remarks and these few examples may at least
give an intimation as to how in my opinion the study of the so-called historical
literature of Indonesia will have to be conducted in the future. I am aware
of the complexities of the problems involved, and also of the fact that there
is a great difference between various forms of historical texts. One funda-
mental problem will remain that these texts have not been written for modern
readers. Hopefully for Indonesian historians it will still be possible to place
themselves in the role of the reader for whom the texts were intended,
and by doing so to come closer to a satisfactory analysis of 'the functional
aspect. Something has already been done in this field; I am thinking, e.g.,
of the work of Soemarsaid Moertono, which bears witness to a deep con-
geniality with the writers of Javanese babads, in combination with a modern
historiographie approach.
There are other ways of coming closer to the functional aspects of
this literature, however. First of all the texts themselves often provide ex-
plicit information on this point, even if it is mostly limited in quantity.
Furthermore careful and comprehensive lexicographical study of Javanese
and other literature concerned probably will still reveal much valuable in-
formation. 1 am thinking of the lines along which Zoetmulder in his new
book on Old Javanese literature has worked. On the basis of an extensive
lexicographical documentation he has succeeded in presenting a penetrating
picture of the kawi, the poet, his role, function, the meaning of his work
in Javanese society. In a comparable way study of Indonesian literatures
should reveal a lot about the pujangga and other writers, if all the bits
and pieces of information, very fragmentary and dispersed, often hidden
and casual, are collected and assembled into a coherent picture.
Another angle from which the problem of 'the role of literature and
the function of the writer in traditional society in Indonesia could be ap-
proached is the anthropological analysis. Here 'the study of non-literary
languages and their oral literatures should not be neglected. After all, the
distance between oral literature and written texts, within the framework of
Indonesian literature is much smaller than modern readers of the latter
have often been inclined to assume. It is quite probable that much written
literature essentially has preserved the character of traditional oral literature.
Is not the dalang, the litterateur par excellence in Javanese society, ât the
same 'time the man who each night creates his oral story from a prepon-
derantly oral tradition ? In this connection special mention ought 'to be made

20
 THE STUDY O F S O - C A L L E D HISTORICAL TEXTS

of the work by Dr. James Fox on Rotinese oral traditions, in particular

genealogies. It would seem that these brilliant studies are of direct relevance
to the study of Indonesian historical literature.
In the rest of the paper, however, I will restrict myself to a few
concluding remarks on some aspects of the study of Indonesian literature in
the sense indicated above, and which are more specifically of a literary
character.
First of all I should mention the purely philological problems which
are bound to turn up in any study of these 'texts. Especially literary analysis
requires texts which with reasonable certainty can be assumed to be suf-
ficiently homogeneous, in the sense that 'they are available in the form in
which they were created. I do not want to imply that such texts should
be original in any sense of the word. All over the world texts have been
rewritten, motifs have been adapted, new stories have been composed out of
fragments of older ones, or an old story has given rise to different new
stories. This has, of course, also happened over and over again in Indonesia,
and it does not pose a problem. However, 'there are also texts, or manuscripts
which form accidental conglomerations of various fragments from different
origins, and perhaps with different functions, patched together by copyists
without any literary or other inspiration or intention. Such texts often
create problems for a satisfactory analysis. In some cases it has been
possible to set up a plausible hypothesis about the textual history of such
a manuscript; a good example is the Hikayat Patani, where the fragments of
which the manuscript consists could be established, with reasonable certainty,
to be of a very different nature and provenance. Consequently it became
possible to separate the narrative proper from a number of unstructured bits
and pieces, which may come in the same category as the notes which the
author of the Sejarah Banten as yet had no opportunity to rewrite into
significant fiction.
In other cases, however, this task will be much more difficult; as an
example I refer again to the Pararaton, which ever since the first edition
by Brandes has received little, if any, attention as a piece of literature,
even though it has been intensively studied from other angles. As is well-
known the text as we have it displays a peculiar structure, or lack of
structure. It consists of a long narrative fragment containing the story of
Angrok, followed by shorter narrative fragments, interchanging with and
followed by short matter-of-fact pieces of genealogical and historical in-
formation, mainly on royalty and certain important events. An easy solution
would be to consider the text as an uncritical accumulation of materials of
very different function and origin. However, in the light of texts such as
the history of Wajo' and the Babad Buleleng, and also in view of the re-
lative uniformity of the manuscripts, one has to beware of rash conclusions;
the text deserves to be subjected to a critical analysis from a literary point
oi view.
Other serious obstacles for a successful investigation of historical
literature are created by the fact that so far the study of Indonesian

21
 A. TEEUW

literature generally speaking has made insufficient progress. In particular

next to nothing has been done for a satisfactory distinction of literary
genres in Indonesian literature. The few handbooks or surveys which exist
(I refer to Winstcdt's book on Malay, and Pigeaud's synopsis of Javanese
literature; even Zoetmulder's most recent work is not very explicit on this
point) show that scholarly criteria for distinguishing literary genres in In-
donesian literature are virtually non-existent. The task of literary classifi-
cation of texts is certainly not made easier by the fact that clear-cut
boundaries rarely seem to exist. As a consequence a typological definition
of what are now called historical texts will not be easy either. A broad
knowledge of the whole field of the literatures involved will be necessary
in order to recognize the various patterns and models which have been applied
or made use of in the elaboration of certain stories. Now already it seems
possible, on 'the basis of the few studies existing in the field, to recognize
in certain historical texts various literary models, a brief enumeration of
which may be useful, even though much more research will be needed to
arrive at more definitive conclusions.
1. The historical narrative as a wayang kulit lakon: the babad written in
terms of the normal and ideal king's drama, according to a strictly fixed
literary pattern : his strife, his struggle, his victory, for the benefit of the
world. It would be a most fruitful subject for research to investigate syste-
matically a number of babads from this leading point of view and to ascertain
how far this model has been realized in babad-wiitmg, if only to reach
some conclusions for a 'typological distinction within the large field of texts
which are now called babad.
2. The historical narrative as a Panji story. After Rassers' penetrating
analysis had made clear 'that in Javanese culture mythico-literary motifs and
patterns have a strong impact on many aspects of literature, Ras in his
dissertation has shown how in the case of the Hikayat Banjar the historical
narrative has taken on many features of the Panji story. In a recent paper
he has argued, with strong arguments, that the same Panji motif has also
often been used as the typical motif for a royal marriage song, a conclusion
which may have its concequences for the analysis of a number of texts in
Indonesian literatures, whether they are called historical or not.
3. The historical narrative as a Rama story. It may be expected that
further study will reveal that the Babad Buleleng is not the only Indonesian
historical text in which the epical king Rama has provided the literary
model for the form in which the so-called historical story has been told.
4. The historical narrative as a didactic-moralistic mirror for kings; above
1 have already indicated this aspect of the Sejarah Banten; it is well-known
how popular the moralistic frame-story has been in Javanese literature,
ever since Tantri, and probably before. In this way a text such as the
Sejarah Banten finds its parahels in texts which are now generally con-
sidered to belong to a very different type, such as Serat Centini and many
others. Among other things it should be investigated in how far the re-
quirements put by such a literary genre may have had their impact on the
shaping of the Babad, and perhaps of other historical texts.

22.
 THE STUDY OF SO - CALLED HISTORICAL TEXTS

5. The Persico-Indian king's book, as an eulogy of the living ruler has

formed a model for the Hikayat Aceh, and as such has influenced the
selection of materials and the presentation of the facts in the final shaping
of the text.
6. The pre-literary myth of the divine origin of the Malay rulers, which
is not restricted to the Malay or Indonesian area, but also found in, e.g.,
Thailand, has in some cases had an important impact on Malay historical
texts, not just in the sense that the motif was taken over or preserved, but
as a model for important parts of the story; among others I may again
refer to the Hikayat Banjar; in somewhat different forms, the influence of
this myth is visible in the Hikayat Patani, and the Kutai history published
by CA. Mees.
7. The legend of Alexander the Great, which we know to have penetrated
into Indonesia at a relatively early time, in one of its Islamic manifestations,
has also played its role as a model for certain Indonesian narratives con-
cerning kings; apart from the Baron Sakender I may also refer to the
Sejarah Melayu.
8. The same can be assumed about the story of Amir Hamzah, the uncle
of the prophet, and perhaps also the story of Muhamad Hanafiah which
also in early times have found their way into Indonesia; not only has the
former text provided the wayang golek with its main narrative content, but
also texts which at first sight may seem to bear a primarily referential
character may partly have been shaped on this model.
9. The traditional penglipur lara stories also deserve to be mentioned in
this connection, although so far they have hardly been studied from this
point of view. Yet a text such as the Hikayat Hang Tuah, in its own
remarkable way a Mimesis of the Malay past, shows clear traces of the
V influence of oral literary 'traditions in Malay society, about which Dr. Amin
< Sweeney is now publishing such fascinating materials.
10. Finally, to mention a very different, if not opposite case, the famous
Nagarakrtagama which has drawn so much attention from historians ever
since it has been rediscovered and published, has rarely been studied as a
work of art, which obviously it is first and foremost. Even professor Berg's
voluminous and penetrating studies are more directed at the extralinguistic
realities behind the text than at the structure and form of the text itself.
The very fact that the author gave this story the form of a kakawin, the
highly sophisticated type of poetry which the Javanese took over from Indian
literary tradition, must have had its impact on the shaping of the content.
1 am not only thinking of 'the formal requirements of the genre, such as
metre, verse structure, composition in cantos, etc., but also of the norms
regarding content and meaning of the kakawin as a form of poetry.
All this only goes to say that, whatever 'the criteria for historical
literature, (if the term is going to be preserved at all) such a genre cannot
be studied in isolation from the rest of Indonesian literature. Literary
models of the types mentioned above in some cases will only partially have

23
 A. TEEUW

determined the shape of a particular text, in other cases more than one
model may have had its influence on a certain text. It is moreover obvious
that the models mentioned — and others — cannot be considered in iso-
lation, because there is partial overlapping or coincidence or even conver-
gence between certain literary motifs and types : Rama and Panji themselves
— and perhaps also Iskandar — at some point may have been identified
one with another, even if I would not tend to go as far as Rassers who
virtually has suggested that the Panji story in essence is the model for the
greater part of traditional literature in Indonesia. There is certainly more
tiian Panji, and Panji himself has been influenced by other models just in
the same way as he has influenced others.
Just one example how difficult it will be to determine clear boun-
daries between literary genres or types. This example is formed by the
rather large group of Middle-Javanese poems which we use to call kidungs.
According to the opinion generally received there are two main types
within this group of kidungs : First there are the Panji stories among which
Malat was the most popular while Wangbang Wideya is the one now easiest
available through the recent edition with English translation by Dr. Robson.
Secondly we have the so-called historical kidungs of which Rangga Lawe
and Kidung Sunda in its various versions are the best known, whereas the
Babad Buleleng may also belong to this same type. This classification into
two groups rests mainly on the fact that we know or presume to know
that the main heroes of the latter group are known to have existed in
reality, and that certain episodes in these stories seem to reflect historical
events. It is based on the assumption that stories in which so-called his-
torical figures appear are typologically different from stories in which
mythical or legendary figures occur. However, the distinction between the
two in itself is already precarious, because it has been argued by various
authors that Panji himself after all may be the literary representation of a
specific king in ancient Java, whether Kamadewa or another one. But even
if the distinction between the two types of heroes could be maintained
from the point of view of their historicity, it is still not warranted from
a literary point of view, and closer investigation of these texts may well
show that as far as literary structure is concerned the distinction is quite
irrelevant, and that all these texts in fact may represent one and the same
type, This suspicion is strengthened when we read a text such as the Kidung
harsawijaya which on the one hand seems to deal which historical figures,
but which on the other gives the strong impression that it largely follows
the model of a Panji story. Continued research along the lines of Worsley's
dissertation may well lead to the conclusion that there is only one literary
genre, even if some of the stories may perhaps display deviations from
the model, caused by pieces of a referential character which are still pre-
served in it.
While it is true that there are many cases in Indonesian literature
where texts with a different content or referential value may have similar
if not identical structure, there are also quite a few cases where the same
or similar themes and referential materials have been represented in different
24
 THE STUDY OF S O - C A L L E D HISTORICAL TEXTS

literary forms. Such cases provide very useful material for comparison and
delimitation of literary genres. To mention only a few examples : Ras has
given a fascinating comparison of the two versions of the Hikayat Banjar,
one being the palace or chancellary version, the other the wayang version.
Berg has already pointed out the correspondences and differences between
the Pararaton tradition and the so-called historical kidungs. Another case
where a comparative study would render useful materials for 'the study of
this problem is that of the historical materials from Wajo' which were
discussed briefly by Noorduyn for comparative purposes, in his comment
on the chronicle which he published. An edition of such other Wajo' ma-
terials would greatly improve our insight into the range of variations in
literary actualisation of similar referential material. Alongside the Sejarah
Melayu we have the fascinating story of the Hikayat Hang Tuah, which
so far has been greatly underestimated as a piece of literature. This re-
presentation of Malaccan history from the quite unusual viewpoint of the
servant is now the subject of literary research by Mrs. Sulastin Sutrisno
here in Yogyakarta. In general Malay histories would provide us with
excellent materials for contrastive studies in view of the wide range of
variations which they display on the basis of an underlying similarity. Not
to mention 'the Javanese babads. It is more than time that students of
literature start making their contribution to the problem of how to bring
some order and system in the confusing and indeterminate mass of texts
which bear the name of babad. They will certainly not be able to solve
all the problems involved, but it would seem that an approach on the basis
of the achievements of literary theory and literary criticism might create
some clarity also with regard to other problems concerning this literature.
I have come to the end of — what should I say : my report ? my
story ? or simply my text ? In any case I am aware that I have contributed
little in terms of solutions of actual problems. I have perhaps rather evoked
pioblems where until now they have not always been recognized, and in
that sense I may have disturbed some people in my audience. I am also
aware of the fact that due to limits of space and time I may not always
have done justice to earlier students in this field, 'the more so as I had
to write 'this paper in Tugu, in western Java, where I did not have access
to my books or library facilities. For all these shortcomings, saya minta
maaf. What I have tried to do, is to design, in bare outline some kind
of a program, a program which should be undertaken by students of In-
donesian literature. It may seem an ambitious program, but perhaps the
time has come for ambitious programs in this fields. I consider myself
fortunate to have been able contribute this paper to a conference in this
town where interest in traditional literature and in older regional history
is so great and so rapidly growing. I also consider it fortunate that the
interest in these problems is not only growing in circles of people directly
concerned. It is obvious from Indonesia's second five year plan that the
Government considers the opening up of traditional literature, both oral
and written, for larger groups of society, as well as the development of
the study of Indonesia's history as urgent priorities. This gives me hope

25
 A. TEEUW

that a program such as the one formulated above, even in this rough outline,
may be of some help in stimulating the discussion, both at this congress
and elsewhere, as to the most appropriate ways and means of furthering
these studies, both on the national level of the countries concerned in
Southeast Asia and on the international level.

26
 SEJARAH RAJA - RAJA RIAU
SOME ASPECTS, AS TOLD BY THE JAKARTA
MANUSCRIPTS *
S.W. RUDJIATI MULJADI

The Riau Archipelago

As a part of the Republic of Indonesia, the Riau archipelago was
stipulated as a Kabupaten in 1950, 1 and is now a part of the Province
of Riau.
-
Since the end of the 19 th century the Raja or Sultan had had no more
power, 'the whole area had been fully under the control of the Dutch.
Before the war it was a Residency. The eastern point of it was the Sempadi
island, and in the West it reached the borders between Indragiri and the
Kuantanland, the most northern and the southern points were the Sekatung
island of the Natuna's, and the Ju island of Kajangan, which covers an
area of 840 — 900 km2, consisting 6,6% of land and 83,4% of water.3
The manuscripts
The little information about Riau from the Sejarah Raja-Raja Riau
covers the period not earlier than the beginning of the 18 t h century only.
Four of the dated manuscripts are of the 19 t h century. One was written
at the beginning of this century.
Most of the manuscripts we have in Jakarta under the title of
Sejarah Raja-Raja Riau start from Sultan Sulaiman, who was supported
by a Buginese Raja Muda. He was crowned in the year 1103 H., as
mentioned in five of the six manuscripts. At that 'time Riau was a part
of the big kingdom of Johor 'to which both Pahang and Riau belonged.
Bottom writes in his Some Malay Historical Sources among others,
"The several separate works and the comparatively numerous manuscripts
still extant indicate the importance of the Johore-Riau Lingga area in the
latter part of the eighteenth century and the nineteenth century, These
Riau histories go under a variety of names, and sometimes the same ma-
nuscript bears more than one of these names as a title or a description.
Such titles are Sejarah Raja-Raja Riau, Hikayat Riau, SalsUah Keturunan
Raja Bugis, Aturan Setia Bugis dengan Melayu, and Sejarah Raja-Raja
Melayu. 4

* Paper presented at the Vth IAHA Conference, Yogyakarta, 1974.

i Republik Indonesia; Propinsi Sumatra Tengah (Kementerian Penerangan, n.d.),
pp. 248 - 249.
Ü "Riouw en Onderhorigheden", Encyclopaedic van Nederlandsch Tndië ('s-Gra-
venhage, Martinus Nijhoff, n.d.), I l l , pp. 425-426.
3 Ibid, p. 1067.
' J.C. Bottom, "Some Malay Historical Sources : A Bibliographical Note",
An Introduction to Indonesian Historiograph}', ed. by Soedjatmoko a.o. (New
York : Cornell University Press, 1965), p. 182.

27
 S.W. RUDJIATI MUL JADI

According to van Ronkel's Catalogus 5, there are five manuscripts

oi the Sejarah Raja-Raja Riau in Jakarta, two in Leiden, and one in the
Hague. The Hague manuscript is now kept in the KITLV-Library in Leiden.
Van Ronkel called it Sjadjarah Radja-Radja Riouw, ° but according to
Virginia Matheson in her Tuhfat an-Nafis this manuscript is a shorter ver-
sion of the three existing copies of the Tuhfat an-Nafis. 7 At the end of
her article she mentions another manuscript of Sejarah Raja-Raja Riau
kept in London : R.A.S. 119. 8
After further investigation, there is one more manuscript in Jakarta,
but one mentioned in van Ronkel's Catalogus is now missing. A new in-
ventory of the Jakarta manuscripts was done by a team of an inventory
project of the Directorate General of Culture. The missing manuscript is
not mentioned anymore.
The Sejarah Raja-Raja Riau is here catalogued as Perjanjian dan
Sejarah Raja-Raja Riau, with the numbers Ml. 694, I — V, and Ml. 695. 9
I do not follow this new numbering of the Jakarta manuscripts, since the
manuscripts themselves retain the old numbers.
The Jakarta manuscripts of the Sejarah Raja-Raja Riau — v.d.W. 62
(I, V, VI, VII) and v.d.W. 197 — are not in an ideal condition. Here
and there holes appear in them, so that words or parts of words are mis-
sing. The paper, especially that of v.d.W. 62, is very brittle, and many
pages are loose in it.
The following is a list of the manuscripts kept in Jakarta, Leiden,
and London.

A. Jakarta10
1. v.d.W. 195 — now missing
2. v.d.W. 62, VI
3. v.d.W. 62, I
4. v.d.W. 62, V
5. v.d.W. 197
6. v.d.W. 62, VII — included in v.d.W. 62, VI

B. Leiden
1. Cod. 1724(2)"

Ph. S. van Ronkel, "Catalogus der Maleische Handschriften in the Museum

van het Bataviaasch Genootschap", VBG, 57 (1909), pp. 276-278.
6 Ibid., pp. 207-209.
7 Virginia Matheson, "The Tuhfat an-Nafis : Stucture and Sources", BKI 127/3
(1971), p. 376.
» Ibid., p. 391.
» Direktorat Jendral Kebudayaan, Katalogus Koleksi Naskah Melayu, Museum
Pusat, Dep. P. dan K. (Direktorat Jendral Kebudayaan, 1972), pp. 203-204.
io Ph. S. van Ronkel, op, cit., pp. 276-278, CCCLVIH - CCCLXII.
ii H.H. Juynboll, Catalogus van de Maleische en Sundaneesche Handschriften
der Leidsche Universiteits - Bibliotheek (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 18991, pp. 233,
234. CCXXXVII - c c x x x v i n .

2H
 SEJARAH R A J A - R A J A RIAU

2. Cod. 1741(1) i a
3. Kl. 37
C. London 13
1. R.A.S. 119
The whole v.d.W. 62 manuscript consists of writings about Riau.
The other parts besides A. (2), (3), (4), and (6) are the "Riau Contracts" 14 :
a. v.d.W. 62, II — 18 pp., 26 sections,
b. v.d.W. 62, III — 12 pp., 8 sections,
c. v.d.W. 62, IV — 15 pp., 20 sections.
(a) and (b) cover as far back as the contract made in 1784 between the
East India Company and Sultan Mahmud, the ruler of Johor, Pahang, and
Riau; (c) is a contract replacing the contracts made in 1818, but the date
of the contract is not mentioned. However, Staatsblad 19 of 1829 is men-
tioned in Section 13.
Like most manuscripts, although it is here dealing with history
— in the classical eastern sense of the word — we know only the dates
of copying in five manuscripts of the ten we have in Jakarta, Leiden, and
London. None of 'them seem to be earlier than the 19 t h century.
These dated manuscripts are :
a. v.d.W. 197 : 1325 H. (1907 A.D.)
b. v.d.W. 62, I : 19 Jumadilawal 1274 H.
(January 6, 1858 A.D.)
c. v.d.W. 62, VII : 20 Dzulhijah 1274 H.
(Agustus 3, 1858 A.D.)
d. Cod. 1724 (2) : 1234 H. (1827 A.D.)
e. Cod. 1741 (1) : 1844 A.D.
After going through all the transcriptions done by the staff members
of the Literature Department of the Lembaga Bahasa Nasional, and after
comparing them with the originals, and by using 'the summary of the missing
manuscript,] r> the Jakarta manuscripts can be classified into two groups :
Group I :
A. v.d.W. 195 — 35 pp. (missing)
B. v.d.W. 62, VI — 39 pp.
Group II
C. v.d.W. 62, I — 43 pp.
D. v.d.W. 62, V — 30 pp.
E. v.d.W. 62, VII — 6 pp.
F. v.d.W. 197 — 6 pp.

i" Ph. S. van Ronkel, op, cit., pp. 42, 107.

13 Virginia Matheson, op. cit., p. 391.
14 Ph. S. van Ronkel, op. cit., pp. 278 - 279, CCCLXIII.
15 R.O., C.M.G., Windstedt, "Outline of a Malay History of Riau", JRASMB.
XI/2 (1933), pp. 157-160.

29
 S.W. RUDJIATI MULJADI

Virginia Matheson classified into the same group as v.d.W. 62, VI,
all the manuscripts kept in Leiden and London [Cod. 1724 (2), Cod. 1741
(1), Kl. 37, and R.A.S. 119]. a o
Almost no Malay manuscript is the same. The copyist had the
freedom — or felt to have 'the freedom — of alternating words or phrases
which he might not understand, or simply because he thought 'they were
unnecessary or too difficult 'to be copied. He could also skip words or
phrases — even pages — either on purpose or not.
It is unfortunate that the two manuscripts of Group I cannot be
compared, since one of it is lost. After comparing (B) with Winstedt's sum-
mary, 17 it can be noted that the second part of (A), is the same as (E).
In other words, (A) consists of 2 parts, whose contents are almost equal
to (B) and (E) together.
A sub-thesis by Virginia G. Lee 18 contains also a transcription and
a translation of a Sejarah Raja-Raja Riau, from a microfilm of Cod. 1724
(2). 10 It goes as far as p. 25. The text here is almost the same as (B),
but it covers the first 10 pages only.
After comparing the contents of (C), (D), (E), and (F), it can be
stated that (C) and (D) are almost the same. The first pages are both
divided into pasah. (C) has at the end a post-script stating that it is copied
in Penyengat, on 19 Jumadilawal 1274 H. (January 6, 1858 A.D.).
(E) is a shorter version, and it covers as far as page 11 of (C),
or page 10 of (D).
(F) tries to give a short account of ancestry from Sultan Sulaiman
up to Sultan Mahmud.
These two groups show two different methods of writing historical
events.
The first group shows a more narrative style of telling historical
events, without mentioning either dates or years, except, once in the second
part of (A).
The second group deals with the pledge of loyalty between the
Malays and the Bugineses. Every time it is marked with seals, mentioning
names and sometimes years.
Both groups start with events around the crowning of Sultan Su-
laiman in 1103 H. (1691 A.D.). Kratz mentioned the year 1722 as the
year of Raja Sulaiman's crowning (1699-1760).20
,—, ,
is Virginia Matheson, op. cit., p. 391.
» R.O., C.M.G. Windstedt, op. cit., pp. 157 -160.
is Virginia G. Lee, Johor, the Bugis, and Raja Kecik (Camberra : Department
of Indonesian Languages and Literature, Australian University, n.d.),
App., pp 8 - 3 3 .
i» H.H. Juynboll, op. cit., pp. 233 - 234.
ÎO E.U. Kratz, Peringatan Sejarah Negeri Johor : Eine Malaiische Quelle zur
Geschichte Johors im 18 Jahrhundert (Wiesbaden : Otto Harrassowitz, 1973),
pp. 5, 6, 144, 149, 150.
30
 SEJARAH R A J A - R A J A RIAU

Let us now consider the first group with the so many interesting
figures in it. This group gives you an account on local alliances, wars,
foreign policies, conspiracies, palace's intrigues, personal outstanding atti-
tudes and influences. Bottom said, " history certainly can be extracted
by the expert historian who has a knowledge of the facts, fancies, and
documents of his area and period and who by this knowledge is properly
equipped to check constantly the wilder flights of fantasy of the Malay
historian of the past." 21
This group is a story, narrated by Tengku Bungsu, the father of
Tengku Awuk di Dungun, to the writer (p.2). In the following pages Tengku
Bungsu was also called Tengku Tua several 'times.
Tengku Bungsu was very angry with yang Dipertuan Trengganu,
and this caused him to move to Dungun. Yang Dipertuan Trengganu has
made Yang Dipertuan Raja Ismail, who fled to Trengganu after he lost
the battle, son in law. This Raja Ismail was Raja Kecik's grandson (p.2,
see p.37).
The most outstanding persons mentioned were no doubt the Ben-
dahara Tengku Husein, Raja Kecik, Raja Haji, Yang Dipertuan Kecik
who was also called Yang Dipertuan Trengganu. The Bugineses' role in
this group was given such an important place, whose special figures were
Kelana Jaya Putra, and Daeng Kemboja, who was later called Raja Muda
Janggut. Both of them were once the strong Raja Muda's of Riau.
The Datuk Bendahara Tun Husein was somewhat a strange person,
with his ill heart and ceaseless vengeance stemmed from his jealousy; but
he was a person of a strong will. He was the elder brother of Marhum
Yang Mangkat di Kuala Pahang, and was born when their father was still
Bendahara. When Marhum Yang Mangkat di Kuala Pahang was born,
their father had become king, and was called Marhum Besar. When their
father passed away, Marhum Yang Mangkat di Kuala Pahang was crowned,
while Tun Husein was appointed Bendahara. As an elder brother, Tun
Husein had to bow before the younger. He became so upset, and was
very jealous of his brother ever since. He had nothing good in his mind
but evil plans for betraying Marhum, hidden in his good manners (p. 2).
When Raja Kecik arrived to propose Tengku Bungsu, Marhum's
daughter, by the agreement of Datuk Bendahara, Marhum accepted the
proposal. But during the marriage, Datuk Bendahara started spreading
slanders about Raja Kecik.
It was said that Raja Kecik was not a Minangkabau knight but
only a son of a commoner. Some said that he was Marhum's son with
Encik Pung by adultry, who fled when Marhum died. She was kept by
a Minangkabau, who was called Panglima Bebas, and later Raja Kecik
was born.

21 J.C. Bottom, op. cit., p 182.

 S.W. RUDJIATI MULJADI

Hearing these different rumors the royal family was distressed.

Everybody ignored Raja Kecik, even his bride, who was later stolen and
removed to the palace by Tengku Tengah.
Raja Kecik became very angry with Marhum because of the effects
of the slander, and 'therefore he moved to Johor. Thereafter Datuk Ben-
dahara wrote Raja Kecik to attack Johor. This message was carried out
by Raja Kecik, and as a result of the war, Johor turned into a dry field
(PP. 3-5).
When Marhum Besar moved to Pahang, taking along Tengku
Bungsu, Raja Kecik's wife, he was followed by Raja Kecik. Marhum Besar
was still praying when he was stabbed and murdered by the Minangkabaus.
Thereafter Raja Kecik went to Riau by Datuk Bendahara's agreement, and
lie became King of Riau.
Everyday Datuk Bendahara went to have audience with Raja Kecik
asking that he be made king. Because of Raja Kecik's refusal, Datuk Ben-
dahara sent a messenger to 'the Buginese Kelana Jaya Putra asking for
assistance to attack Raja Kecik in Riau. The Minangkabaus were defeated,
and Kelana Jaya Putra entered Riau. After the Bugineses were established,
Kelana Jaya Putra installed Raja Sulaiman.
When Raja Sulaiman had become firm on the throne, Raja Kecik
made a fruitless attack; 'then he died. Then Raja Alim and thereafter Raja
Buang Kudang, Raja Kecik's son with Tengku Bungsu, came to besiege
Riau, but the Bugineses withstood it.
In the meantime Datuk Bendahara still looked for Kelana's consent
to be crowned. But due to Kelana Jaya Putra's resentment, Datuk Ben-
dahara was filled with hatred of Kelana. When Kelana died at Sungai
Baru, Daeng Ali became Raja Muda. Peace and prosperity was bestowed
throughout Riau, but Datuk Bendahara was still full with feelings of hate
and revenge (pp. 6-10).
When the Raja Muda died, Daeng Kemboja succeeded him. After
defeating Raja Alam of Siantan, Daeng Kemboja returned 'to Riau, but
not long thereafter Datuk Bendahara and Yang Dipertuan Kecik spread
rumors after rumors, saying that 'the Bugineses were preparing to fight
and set the town into fire. After investigations, Marhum could not find
anything suspicious.
These feeling of hatred and avenge lasted for years. Marhum Besar
felt more and more attached to the Bugineses, but Datuk Bendahara and
Yang Dipertuan Kecik hated them more and more. Therefore Daeng Kem-
boja begged Marhum again and again to leave the country because he
couldn't bear 'this hatred anymore.
Then not long after Raja Muda had left for Linggi, another chaos
was stirred by both Datuk Bendahara and Yang Dipertuan Kecik Trenir-
ganu concerning the Bugineses who were still in Riau, among others were
Raja Haji and all his relatives.
At that time a Dutch marine came to Riau (pp. 11 — 15).
:v>
 SEJARAH RAJA - RAJA RIAU

Yang Dipertuan Trengganu seemed to be the allied force of Datuk

Bendahara. As a young man, who was still wearing a bracelet, he came
to visit Riau as Yang Dipertuan Kecik. Before Daeng Kemboja went to
Siantan, he went to Selangor to attack Perak. Not long after Marhum Muda
had returned from Selangor, Yang Dipertuan Trengganu arrived at Riau
to marry Tengku Tengah (p. 11). Since then Datuk Bendahara and Yang
Dipertuan Trengganu were always mentioned together against the Bugineses.
A dirty trick of conspiracy was also made against Raja Haji.
When Daeng Kemboja had left, Yang Dipertuan Kecik Trengganu
and Datuk Bendahara asked Marhum Besar for Raja Aminah, Raja Ha-
limah, and the three : Raja Haji and his sisters, Tengku Hitam, and Tengku
Putih to be given to the Dutch on the ships. Raja Haji did not want to
obey. He moved to the river, and followed by all the Bugineses in Riau,
he established a fort in the cape of Sungai Timun.
A war between the Trengganeses and Da'tuk Bendahara's Malayan
followers against Raja Haji was unavoided. Marhum Besar could not say
anything against the conspiracy by Yang Dipertuan Trengganu and Datuk
Bendahara. Therefore, under the suggestion of Yang Dipertuan Trengganu,
Raja Haji was asked to accompany him to fetch Daeng Kemboja, the Raja
Muda. On the way to Linggi, Yang Dipertuan Trengganu stopped at Malaka
to ask Raja Malaka to help him attack Linggi and to capture Raja Haji.
He gave him and the Governor other promises, too.
Hearing this news from the Buginese Terajuk, and knowing that
he would be captured on Friday morning during an "invitation" to dine,
Raja Haji ordered his men to get aboard and sail to Linggi (pp. 16 — 18).
Nothing more was said of Raja Haji.
Not long thereafter the head of the Dutch arrived at Linggi together
with the Malays and 'the Trengganeses, as requested by Yang Dipertuan
Trengganu and Datuk Bendahara.
When this news reached Marhum Besar, he became very angry.
Paralytically, he demanded Raja Muda's return again and again (pp.
18 — 19). Therefore, Raja di Baruh left for Linggi together with Engku
Raja Indra Bungsu. Raja Muda Janggut welcame them in Rembau and
gave them a party. Before he returned to Riau with Raja Muda as asked
by Marhum Besar, Raja di Baruh went 'to Selangor first; he fell ill and
died there, after hearing the news that his father, Marhum Besar, had
passed away after his departure (pp. 19 — 20).
Then Marhum Janggut brought Tengku di Baruh's corpse to Riau,
Baginda Sultan Mahmud was just 40 days old. Having burried Tengku
di Baruh, Raja Muda crowned Marhum Tengah, 'the older brother of the
late Tengku.
Not long thereafter, an envoy of the Governor came from Malaka
to Datuk Bendahara to ask for the payment of Marhum Besar's debt, as
promised before the attack of Linggi. The total expenses 'the Governor
asked for was $ 7.007.754.

33
r-
S.W. RUDJIATI MULJADI

Yang Dipertuan Trengganu did not want to return to Trengganu,

and since Datuk Bendahara could not stand this situation anymore, he
restored Riau, and all the colonies of Johor to Marhum Janggut, who had
to pay the Dutch (pp. 20 — 22).
After Datuk Bendahara left for Pahang, the people who stayed in
Riau reclined on Marhum Muda; among others were Datuk Bendahara
Tua, Temenggung, Engku Bungsu, and Raja Tua, who lived together with
Marhum Janggut. When peace and prosperity over Riau came, the Malay
began to conspire again. One day when one of Raja Tua's men was caught
after intending to set fire in Marhum's. amunition warehouse in Pangkalan
Rama, Raja Tua was expelled from Riau (pp. 23 — 24).
After the exile of Raja Tua, Raja Ismail of Siak came to Riau,
saying that he didn't want anything but to visit Marhum Besar's grave.
But Marhum Janggut did not give him his permission.
When he came again, Raja Ismail anchored at the Strait, and sent
a courier to Marhum Janggut. Daeng Mengadik, Datuk Bandar Amin, and
Datuk Penggawa were sent in return. With hands on the Quran, Raja Ismail
promised not to betray Marhum Janggut, and asked Daeng Mengadik and
Datuk Penggawa to convey his message to Daeng Kemboja.
When Datuk Bandar Amin was alone, he was summoned by Tengku
Abdullah to go to Raja Ismail's junk, and was killed. His head was hanged
under Raja Ismail's junk.
Hearing this, Marhum Janggut went to the Strait, where he and
Raja Ismail fought. Raja Ismail lost the war; he was the only one left
alive, since Marhum Janggut sustained his men from chasing him. In
Tengku Abdullah's pen-case Marhum Janggut found four letters, which
were from Datuk Bendahara, Datuk Temenggung, and Raja Indra Bungsu;
all were sent to Raja Besar. In all the letters they asked for help to fetch
the two "jewels" from the Bugineses (pp. 25 — 26).
Meanwhile Raja Ismail had settled in Trengganu and even had been
made son in law by Yang Dipertuan Trengganu. Hearing this news, Marhum
Janggut became very angry, because this act endangered the pledge of
loyalty between the Bugineses and the Malays. Marhum Besar once cursed
all the offsprings of Raja Kecik, and even their slaves; nobody were allowed
to accept them. Yang Dipertuan Trengganu was Marhum Besar's son in
law and cousin !
After preparing armaments, and discussing the policies to take, he
left for Trengganu. Unexpectedly, he was refused by Yang Dipertuan
Trengganu, and returned to Riau. He wanted to go away from Riau, but
thinking of the possible disaster that might happen to the country and to
the two "jewels", the two young princes, whom he could not find any
trusted patron, he remained in Riau, until he died (pp. 27 — 29).
These were the highlights of the Sejarah Raja-Raja Riau. In p. 30
the case of the letters mentioned in p. 26 is repeated but narrated in
another story.

34
 SEJARAH R A J A - R A J A RIAU

A slanderous rumor was spread against Yang Dipertuan Trengganu

and Engku Bungsu Datuk Bendahara Pahang for their continual corres-
pondence with the Dutch, asking for assistence in attacking Riau and for
fetching the prince who was under Bugineses' domination.
Yang Dipertuan Trengganu offered Captain Klaas Jamilah, a Chi-
nese descendant who had been converted to Moslem. He asked 'the captain
to provoke fights at the river mouth of the country, in the hope that this
would arise the Riau's anger against the Dutch. Captain Klaas left Jamilah
at Trengganu with his younger brother, who was ordered to take her to
China. But a war against French broke at the river mouth of Riau. When
he reached Ibi, a river mouth to the Trengganu Sea, there was a big storm.
The vessels wrecked into pieces and no one was found alive.
Yang Dipertuan Trengganu's conspiracy with the Dutch was known,
after the two letters, brought by Pambram, the King of the Sea, were read.
When people learned how haughty the Dutch were, and how rude their
words were 'to belittle Yang Dipertuan Trengganu, they became more angry
(pp. 30 — 32).
Thereafter the writer narrated Encik Jumat's conversation with
Tengku Mondok, and why he had written his own fate from the past to
the present.
He wished that the Bugineses and the Malays would not be sepa-
rated one from another, like the case of the black and the white eyes
(pp. 33 — 39).
From this summary, it can be seen that this Sejarah Raja-Raja Riau
covers a short period of time only.
It started among others with the birth of Tun Husein, followed by
his father's death and the crowning of his younger brother, Marhum Yang
Mangkat di Kuala Pangang. According to Silsilah Melayu dan Bugis dan
Sakalian Raja-raja-nya he was Sultan Abduljalil who was crowned in 1111
H. (1699 A.D.) 22 In Peringatan Sejarah Negeri Johor he was called Sultan
Abdul Jalil Riayat Syah or Sultan Abdul Jalil Syah ibni Datuk Benda-
hara. 23 On that same year Raja Sulaiman was born. 2i
Towards the end, Daeng Kemboja died. Quoting Netscher,
Winsted't25 noted the year 1777 A.D. as the year of his death but in
Bijdragen tot de Geschiedenis van het Rijk van Lingga en Riouw he was
listed as the Raja Muda from 1743 — 1765. 2(i
A Dutchman called Pambram was mentioned as "the King of the
Sea." This name referred to Jacob Pieter van Braam, who in 1784 had

22 Hans Overbeck, "Silsilah Melayu dan sekalian Raja-rajanya", JRASMB, IV

(1926).
2B E.U. Kratz, op. cit., pp. 149, 44.
24 Ibid., p. 44.
2B R.O., C.M.G Windstedt, "A Malay History of Riau and Johore" JRASMB,
X/2 (1932), p. 315.
28 T.J. Willer, "Bijdragen tot de Geschiedenis van het Rnk van Lingga en
Riouw", TBG, IV (1855), App.

35
 S.W. RUDJIATI MULJADI

fulfilled his duty as admiral who managed to occupy Malaka, and to drive
away the Bugineses from Riau. 27 In that year Raja Haji, 'the Raja Muda
since 1765, died in the battle of Malaka. He was known as the great Malay
hero who fell in the battle against the Dutch in Teluk Ketapang.28 But
this is not mentioned at all in the Sejarah Raja-Raja Riau.
So far for the contents of the first group. A translation of v.d.W.
62, VI or (B) is attached to this paper.
The second group as stated above contains the pledge of loyalty
between the Malays and the Bugineses started since Sultan Sulaiman's
installation as king of Johor and Pahang in the year 1103 H. (1691 AD.)
by Daeng Manumpuk and Kelana Jaya Putra. Kelana Jaya Putra was
installed Raja Muda, and was regarded as brother by the king. He was
responsible for 'the administration of Johor and Pahang and all the colonies
and the land-properties.
Manuscript (F), although placed in this group tries in fact 'to write
the ancestry of persons mentioned in the Sejarah Raja-Raja Riau. But
unfortunately in certain places it can not be read — not even guessed —
because of its bad condition. It starts here with the year 1134 H. (1735 A.D.),
when the Bugineses came in Riau after defeating Raja Kecik. Then they
crowned Sultan Sulaiman, and the pledge of loyalty was made. This
kinship line ended with Sultan Mahmud.
This is somewhat different from the other parts of the second group,
but it cannot form another different group.
As stated above (C) and (D) are almost the same. After comparing
them more thoroughly, (C) can be taken as the representative of this group.
After the installation of Sultan Sulaiman an alliance was made
between Raja Johor and Raja Bugis. This was an oath of loyalty which
was to last for generations. If superior to the Malays, it would be superior
to the Bugineses, and on the contrary if there were enemies of the Malays,
they would be enemies to the Bugineses.
The Malays were equal to the Bugineses. When a Buginese did
wrong, Yang Dipertuan Muda should solve it wisely; and on 'the contrary,
v/hen a Malay did wrong, it was Datuk Bendahara's task to solve it wisely.
When the Bendahara could not solve something concerning the Bugineses,
he should consult ihe Datuk Bendahara.
Whoever denied it, he and all his offsprings would be punished
by Allah taala, and they would be not free from troubles until the doomsday.
This oath of loyalty was every time renewed and restreng'thened
especially when a new Raja Muda or Bendahara or a Raja Tua was in-

27 E.C. Godee Molsbergen, " De Nederlandsch Oostindische Compagnie in de

Achttiende Eeuvir", Geschiedenis van Nederlandsch Indie, ed. by F.W. Stapel
( A m s t e r d a m : Joost van den Vondel, 1939), vo. IV, pp. 362-371.
28 T. Iskandar, "Raja Ali Haji Tokoh dari Pusat Kebudayaan J o h o r - R i a u "
Dewan Bahasa, VIII/12 (1964), p. 536,

36
 SEJARAH R A J A - R A J A RIAU

stalled, for instance in 1141 H. (1745 A.D.), when Daeng Pali succeeded
Kelana Jaya Putra as Raja Muda, when in 1147 H. (1734 A.D.) Tun
Abdullah was appointed Raja Tua, then when Daeng Kemboja was ap-
pointed Raja Muda, and 'then in 1161 H. (1748 A.D.) when Raja Indra
Bungsu became Datuk Bendahara.
Without any reason mentioned here, Daeng Kemboja moved to
Linggi, which caused 'the people to have divided feelings.
In the meantime Duli Yang Dipertuan Besar (Sultan Sulaiman)
passed away.
This pledge of loyalty is repeated as often as 13 times in this ma-
nuscript. Each repetition is ended with names and years, which are some-
times encircled, but sometimes not.
These are found on
p. 11 — a. Al Imam al-Mahmud ibn as-Sultan Abdul Jalil 1214 H.
(1799 A.D.)
b. Sultan Alauddin ibn Opu
repeated in pp. 16, 19, and 21.
p. 23 — a. Sultan Ahmad Riayat Syah ibn as-Sultan Abdul Jalil
b. Sultan Alauddin Syah bin Opu
p. 25 — a. Sultan Jamaluddin lnayat Syah ibn as-Sultan Alauddin
Inayat Syah
b. Sultan Abdulrahman ibn Sultan Mahmud
c. Raja Muda ibn almarhum fi sabilillah, 1221 H. (1806 A.D.)
d. Raja Muda ibn Sultan Baharuddin Raja Tua, 1128 H.
(1715 A.D.)
p. 32 — a. Engku Syarif Muhammad Zain
b. Sayid Ali Suliwatang Ibrahim ibn Bandar Husein
c. Syahbandar Muhammad ibn Bandar Husein
d. Abdulmanan
e. Keluk
f. Panglima Perang Jamal
2. a. Sultan Mahmud Syah ibn Sultan Abdulrahman
b. Raja Muda ibn Almarhum fi sabilillah, 1221 H.
(1806 A.D.)
p. 34 — Raja Muda ibn Yang Dipertuan Muda Raja Ja'far, 1248 H.
(1832 A.D.)
p 35 — Sultan Mahmud Syah ibn Sultan Abdulrahman, 1248 H.
(1832 A.D.)

37
 S.W. RUDJIATI MULJADI

p. 36 — Sultan Mahmud Mudafar Syah ibn Sultan Mohammad Syah,

1251 H. (1835 A.D.)
p. 37 — Raja Muda ibn Yang Dipertuan Muda Raja Ja'far, 1248 H.
(1832 A.D.)
p. 38 — Sultan Mudafar Syah ibn Sultan Mahmud Syah, 1251 H.
(1835 A.D.)
p. 40 — a. Sultan Mahmud Mudafar Syah ibn Sultan Muhammad Syah,
1251 H. (1835 A.D.)
b. Raja Muda ibn Yang Dipertuan Muda Raja Ja'far, 1261 H.
(1845 A.D.)
Thus, according to this manuscript, this oath of loyalty between
the Bugineses and the Malays lasted for more than one century.
Having read these summaries, it can be concluded that only the
first group that can be called Sejarah Raja-Raja Riau while the second
group is what usually called Aturan Setia Bugis dengan Melayu, which is
certainly different from the first.20

29 Compare : Hooykaas (1952), pp. 125-126.

38
 THE BALINESE BABAD *
H. LR. HINZLER

This paper contains the preliminary results of a study of the Ba-

nese historical literature, primarily written or rewritten during the past two
hundred years. When speaking of this historical literature, one can take
two approaches. First that of the Balinese themselves, and second, that
termed scientific by modern academic thought. A decision as to which point
of view will be taken is already required, when trying to collect the his-
torical texts.
Sources which the Balinese themselves consider historical, are used
in this paper. First they will be grouped. Then one particular genre of
this literature, considered by the Balinese as highly historically important,
namely the babad, will be investigated. Its character, language, composition
and role in Balinese society will be examined.
Finally I would stress that conclusions drawn from a research of
part of the textual material are preliminary. In this paper only some facts
and tentative conclusions will be given, and suggestions made for further
research on the material — research that will be time-consuming yet
important.
The material used for this paper, consists of written sources and
results of field research. The written sources are MSS, mentioned in the
various catalogues on Javanese and Balinese subjects. (Brandes : "Beschrij-
ving der Javaansche, Balineesche en Sasaksche Handschriften, ", Batavia,
1901; Th, Pigeaud: "Literature of Java", I, II, III, 1967-1970; Mrs. An-
driessen, Univ. Libr. Leiden : handwritten list of MSS from the Kirtya
Liefrinck-Van der Tuuk in Singaraja, Bali). It inust be mentioned that
copies of the manuscripts, consisting mainly of those also on deposit in
the Kirtya, were kindly loaned to me by Prof. C. Hooykaas. Access to
these manuscripts immeasurably lightened the task of 'the comparison of
sources. The results of the lontar transcription project, started by Prof.
Hooykaas in 1972, the aim of which project is to acquire transcriptions
of' MSS in private hands were used as well. A wealth of texts were brought
to light since 1972, many previously unknown or incomplete MSS. Copies
of these valuable materials are available now in Indonesia as well as Europe.
The results of field research are in fact not those of special histo-
rical investigations, but part of the information that I collected during my
stay in Bali in 1972/73, supported by WOTRO and LIPI. Moreover much
welcome help was given to me by I Gusti Ngurah Ketut Sangka, Puri Gdé,
Krambitan, Anak Agung Ngurah Rai, Puri Jambe, Krambitan, I Ketut Su-
wija, Gedong Kirtya, Singaraja, not to speak of many others.

* Paper presented at the Vth IAHA Conference, Yogyakarta, 1974.

39
 H. I. R. HINZLER

To return to the textual sources, considered historical by the Bali-

nese, these appear to fall into three groups.
A. Sources, directly derived from, or adaptions of 15th Century Javanese
sources, and those written in Bali but mainly concerning Javanese
subjects.
For instance : Nagarakrtagamq, Pararaton, Calon Arang, Kidung Sunda,
Rangga Lawé.
B. Balinese sources, concerning Balinese subjects, written during the 16th
and 17 th Centuries as well as their later adaptions.
For instance : the Kidung Pamancangah, the Usana Bali (both from
circa 1550 A.D. and written by Nirartha) and the Usana Java (Circa
1650).
C. More recent Balinese sources from the late 18th Century even up to
the present, partially based on or continuations of the sources mentioned
under B.
The texts under A are still known in Bali, usually in different ver-
sions, still copied and read. As for example, a "Gaguritan Pararaton" based
on the older proze version. Likewise the "Parikan Lawé" and the "Babad
Ni Calon Arang", following a recension different from that of Poerbatja-
raka's translation (BKI, 82, 1926). Sometimes these old stories are even
stencilled on a large scale, or translated into Indonesian. Popular editions
of Calon Arang were prepared by Ida Bagus Putu Bek, 1959. "Kitab Se-
jarah Dang Hyang Nirartha", in Balinese and by I Gusti Made Susrajna,
1956, in Indonesia, entitled "Sejarah Empu Bharadah". The arrival of Mpu
Kuturan in Bali and the role of Mpu Bharadah, who is said to have lived
circa 1006 A.D. are mentioned in all these texts. Both of them, brahmans,
are important in the Balinese historical literature. It seems that Kuturan
and Nirartha are interchanged here. The early 15th Century relations
between Java and Bali play an important role in the texts mentioned under
B. The "Usana Bali" is stated to have been written by a certain Mpu Ni-
rartha. This Mpu Nirartha stayed in Bali during the reign of Watu Renggong
(circa 1550 A.D.). The brahman also bears the name of Padanda Wahu Rauh.
I collected many MSS of this text, all of them proze versions. The language is
Balinese, mixed with kawi, a term which will be defined later. There are no
substantial differences among these versions, but only variations in details
or wordchoice. Among others seven kings of Bali are grouped together,
namely, Jayapangus (circa 1180 A.D.), Mayadanava from Bedahulu, Ken
Angrok (who is in fact a Javanese king), Dalem Mur from Samprangan,
Watu Rénggong (1460-1550 A.D.) from Gélgél, Saganing (1580-1665).
Thus in reality there are six instead of the seven announced. The story
continues with Mayadanava, the cruel king of Bedahulu, and with an army
consisting of Javanese gods and their attendants who come to Bali to free
that country from Mayadanava. The devine encampment is called Basukih.
Temples in honour of these gods were founded here. The keeper of the
sanctuaries was Amangku Kulputih, whose place of origin was also Java.
Basukih has been compared with the present-day Besakih sanctuaries, the
most holy of Bali.

40
 THE BALINESE BABAD

The MSS of the "Usana Java", originally written in the late 16th
or beginning of the 17th century, mention a king of Wilatikta in Java,
whose kraton is in the land of Trik and whose Arya's are Damar, Buleteng,
Waringin, Belog, Kapakisan, Binculuk and Sentong, all of whom are settled
in a place called Tulembang. Arya Damar and Patih Gajah Mada sail on
the kings' orders to Bali intending to deliver the disobedient vassal king
Pasunggrigis. Although expressly ordered not to kill him, he is nevertheless
slain. Arya Damar and Patih Gajah Mada, arriving back in Wilatikta, then
hear accounts of the exploits of a destructive king Mayadanava in Bedahulu
en Bali. The king of Java decrees him to be subjugated. Again Gajah Mada
goes to Bali, accompanied by the Arya's (Damar, Sentong, Buleteng, Wa-
ringin, Belog, Kapakisan, Binculuk). The cruel king is subdued. His domain
is then apportioned among the Ârya's. A. Sentong is granted Pacung, Bu-
leteng Pinatih, Waringin Kapal, Belog Kaba-Kaba, Kapakisan Abian Semal,
Binculuk Tengkas. The referent of these placenames, although currently
desa's, is unknown for that time. It must be stressed that here Kapakisan
is considered as an ordinary Arya, who, like the others, is granted part of
the domain. The story continues with Arya Damar, who changes his name
into Kenceng and establishes his residence in Tabanan. He has two sons,
Arya Yasan, who procures Bangsul for himself and Arya Bagus Alit, who
assists one of the Gélgél kings in getting rid of a disturbing bird. In ad-
dition to that the text tells stories concerning gods and holy men and also
the story of a certain Mpu Kuturan, who goes to Basukih. This Basukih
is said to be under the patronage of the house of Gélgél.
Finally there is the "Pamancangah", the kidung version of which
was edited in 1929 by C.C. Berg. This kidung is ascribed to Nirartha,
who is said to have written it, as well as the "Usana Bali", under orders
from king Watu Renggong of Gélgél. The dating of this text is circa J 550
A.D,. It treats the arrival of Gajah Mada and the Arya's, in the beginning
of the 15th Century, from Majapahit to Bali, but in another version than
that given in the previously mentioned texts. The vassal king of Bali, Pa-
sunggrigis, is deposed by the Javanese and replaced by Kapakisan, the sun
of a brahman, Mpu Kapakisan. His kraton is in Samprangan, where he
resides and reigns over his vassals, who are Arya Kanuruhan, Arya Da-
lancang, Arya Wangbang, Arya Kenceng, Arya Pangalasan, Tan Wihan,
Manghuri, and perhaps another Wangbang, and Kuta Waringin. He is also
accompanied by Patih Gajah Mada, Kuta Wandira and three wesya's,
namely : Tan Kober, Tan Kawur and Tan Mundur. They restore order in
Bali. During the pacification, there being strong resistance from particular
groups of Bali Aga, Kapakisan desires to return to Java, but is refused
permission to do so by the king of Java. As recompence he is given a
magic-weapon, the kris Ki Lobar. The "Pamancangah" concludes with the
defeat of the Samprangan dynasty and the subsequent transference of the
court to Klungkung (ca. 1710 A.D.). It should be stressed, however, that,

41
 H . I . H. HINZLER

according to this what I would call the Pamancangah tradition, in contrast

to the Usana Java tradition, there is one central kingdom in Bali, whose
founder is king Kapakisan in Samprangan. All other kings of leaders bear
fealty to him.
In comparison with the MSS mentioned under A and B, those of
group C are more numerous and various. These more recent historical
texts are provided with titles by the authors or copyists. These titles refer
to indigeneously defined categories of the historical literature. They are
alphabetically arranged and treated below.
The "babad", in Van der Tuuk (Kawi Balinese dictionary) means :
"intestines". According to the data of I.G. Ng. Ketut Sangka, Krambitan,
a babad in South Bali is also a kind of net for catching fish. In this way
one arrives at the meaning of : "lines" (nets) binding generations and fa-
milies with each other and which elucidates their historical background.
In North Bali babad, rarely spelled with a final d, denotes iühe kakayonan,
in the shadowplay. This kakayonan is a tree-shaped leather figure, marking
the transition of one scene to another. In a babad text the word "babad"
is usually followed by a family name, a group name or a geographical term,
for example : Babad Dalem Samprangan; Babad Pasek or Babad Pande
Bang, and Babad Mengwi-Buleleng respectively.
Other historical texts are called "dhanna", which term is best
translated by "handbook'' (see Hooykaas, Kama and Kala, 1973, p. 4). Such
a one is for example the Dhanna Kapandeyan, which gives information
concerning the descent of the pande group or smiths. The Balinese classify
themselves as belonging to one of four main groups : brahmana, ksatriya,
wesya and jaba. Of these four groups, brahmans are the highest rank and
jaba the lowest. Jaba's are further subdivided 'into pasek's, panders, etc.
We also possess several "kawhan", to be translated by "origin".
An example of this kind is the Kawitan Pasek Gelgel, which deals with the
origin of the pasek's who trace themselves back 'to the god Brahma in Java.
Sections of this text are, incidentally, parallel to the already mentioned
Babad Pasek.
"Purana" is a Sanskrit word, denoting "old" or "antique". An
example is the Brahmanapurana, which treats of the descent of the brah-
mans, who came from Java and spread themselves out, over Bali, as well
as the Rajapurana, which is partially the same as the "Babad Dalem".
"Pamancangah", or "pambencangah" means "historical masked play"
(see Berg, 1927, p. 14) and thus ''historical document". We possess a Pa-
mancangah Tabanan (K 950) which is however closely related to a Babad
Arya Tabanan (K 940).
"Pamukiian" means "dominion'. There exists a Pamuktian Wilatikta.
dealing with a short episode of Javanese history.
''Partagent", or "piagem" means "royal edict". It is often used at
the end of a babad, such as "this was the piagem of ", but also as
a title of text, for instance in Piagem Pinatih, which is closely related to
the Babad Pinatih.
42
 THE BALINESE BABAD

"Pabalik!' denotes someone's defeat. There is for instance a Pabalik

Gusli Batan Jeruk, in proze, which describes the defeat of Gusti Batan
Jeruk, an episode also referred to in the Kidung Pamancangah.
"Prasasti" — "edict", or "charter", is associated with the royal
edicts found on copperplates, dating from between the 9th and 11th. Cen-
turies, and also occurs as term right at 'the end of a babad, for instance,
"This was the prasasti of " Furthermore there are 'the Prasasti Pande
and others, which contain various stories, indications on ritual, and ge-
neologies. According to the data of I G. Ng. Ketut Sangka, Krambitan,
the word ''prasasti" is especially used when in reference to a given fragment
of a text, also extant in complete form.
"Paswara", or "titiswara" also means "royal edict". For example
the Paswara Catur Nagaru, which contains genealogies.
"Rereg, rusak, uwug, yudha" refer to "battle" or "combat". There
exist a Yudha Mangwi, a Rusak Sasak, a Rereg Kadhi and a Gaguritan
Uwug Gianyar. The term ''rereg" is exclusively used in relation to a battle
fought long ago. Yudha, rusak and uwug refer to the more recent invasions
of the Dutch, and as their consequence, the definitive defeat of the Balinese
monarchs. All these texts are written in verse.
"Sejarah" is a modern Indonesian word for "history", occurring in
such phrases as Sejarah Maospalüt.
"Usana" denotes "ancient history" — Usana Bali, Usana Java. The
Balinese also call these texts ''sasana', which actually means "order,
Proscription", and not "history". These texts refer to the deeds of heroes
or kings, without reference to their genealogies.
The above mentioned terms, besides referring to a genre, which
terms often overlap each other, are also often found in connection with
the indication that the text is m verse, such as the kidung, gaguritan and
parikan. Thus there exists a Kidung Pamancangah, and a Gaguritan Rusak
Buleleng.
Of all these genre, the babad, written in proze, occurs most fre-
quently. On account of this, I wish to further investigate said phenomenon.
A babad therefore, deals with family genealogies, combined with other
events, such as war, transfer of land, and ritual. The families likely to
possess a babad are as follows :
1. Royal families, among which a distinction ought to be made between
those, tracing their descent from the Javanese king on Bali, Kapakisan.
These are called ksatriya dalem by the Balinese.
and-
2. The noble families, who trace their genealogy back to one of the Arya's,
Wesya's and their sons, or to Patih Gajah Mada. These are called
ksatriya or wesya by the Balinese.
3. Other groups, consisting of brahmans, pasek's, bendesa's, pande's and
others.

43
 H. I. R. HINZLER

The babad is written in the form of a running story enlivened with

conversations among the main characters. Others are in the form of a
solemn description of events or as a presentation, after a short introduction,
of a dry list of genealogical relations. Consequently, it appears that in all
babad's descent is traced back to the Javanese, whoever they are : either
noblemen, princes, arya, patih, religious figures or gods.
As an example we know of the royal families, called ksatria dalem,
who consider king Kapakisan, that is the house of Gelgel, as their founding
ancestor, (see : Babad Dalem; Babad Pungakan Timbul, for the genealogy of
a Gianyar branch of the family; Babad Andul, for the royal families of
Jembrana; the Babad's Ksatriya, for various families in the neighbourhood
of Gelgel; the Babad Pulasari (K 1262) for the Pulasari branch and the
Babad Jawi Nguni.
Other babad's mention a Samprangan, the son of Padanda Warm
Rauh, as their ancestor, instead of Kapakisan. An example is the Babad
Dalem Samprangan. However, it is known that Wahu Rauh is another name
of Nirartha. On the contrary, this Samprangan is said to have the same
descendants as Kapakisan, so that we can assume that they are one and
the same.
In still other babad's, the descent of one of the Arya or his sons,
is mentioned, namely : Arya Buleleng, like for instance in the Babad Pinatih
(K 818, Z 10), Arya Kenceng, in the Babad Arya Tabanan (K 1792), Arya
Sentong in the Babad Arya Pacung, Arya Wangbang in the Babad Pinatih
(K 1134), which is another version that the one mentioned above, or in
the Babad Sukahet of Mengwi, Arya Damar, in the Babad Arya Tabanan
(K 840) and the Pamancangan Tabanan (K 850), both of which texts run
parallel to each other, yet differ from the Babad Arya Tabanan (K 1792).
There are Arya Wandira and Arya Notor Waringin in the Babad Badung
and, finally. Nyuh Arya, which Arya is a son of Kapakisan, according to
the Babad Blahbatuh, the Babad Mengwi-Buleleng and the Babad Buleleng.
There should also exist babad's following various communications, of fa-
milies tracing their descent from Patih Gajah Mada, although such babad's
have not yet been located.
Moreover there are royal families, considering god Subali of To-
lankir, together with his son I Dewa Ngurah Den Bancingah as their foun-
ding ancestor, as for example in the Babad Bangli NyaUan, and the Babad
Ksatriya Taman Bali. Furthermore there are groups or sects, who mention
divinities (Indra, Guru, Brahma) as their founding ancestor, who, after
meditating, left descendants, who later moved to Bali. Other families reckon
their descent from a certain Patih or Gusti, who served one of the later
kings of Gelgel, as in the Babad Gusti Celuk.
The writing of a babad is thus not the sole privilege of the royal
families, although it is a prerogative of the three higher casts, as well as
a right of certain sects and guilds, belonging to the jaba group.
It seems that all these babad's adhere to extracts of certain basic
texts, concerning princes, and gods, who are said to have lived between the

44
 THE BALINESE BABAD

14th and the end of the 17th Centuries. They largely employ the same
fragments of those basic texts. After this the babad's treat of the descend-
ance of a given figure, often up to and including the end of the 19th
and the beginning of the 20th Centuries.
These basic texts are, for the ksatriya and arya, who claim to descent
from king Kapakisan, the Kidung Pamancangah and the Babad Dalem. The
latter is a proze version of the kidung, but has been enlarged by various
indigeneous Balinese kings, ruling before Kapakisan. There are Masula and
Masuli, twins, from Pejeng, who were assisted by a Mpu Kulputih, known
from the Usana Bali, as well as the king of Bedahulu, who at a given
moment was in possession of a pig's head in place of his own, and whose
court functionaries were among others Kebo Iwa and Pasung Grigis. This
stands in contradiction with the Usana Java, which presents Pasung Grigis
as a Javanese vassal in Bali. These same Balinese kings are also exten-
sively mentioned in the various Rajapurana texts, written, according to
the Wariga Kusuma Dewa, by a Mpu Kuturan, like the Usana Bali. On
the contrary the Usana Bali avers that Mpu Kulputih is the author. Mpu
Kuturan, is, apart from the already mentioned Kusuma Dewa, refered to
in the Usana Java and the Calon Arang.
Due to lack of time it was not feasible to investigate the extent
to which Babad Dalem, Pamancangah and Rajapurana exhibit parallelisms
and differences.
We also find babad's of royal families who by following the Usana
Java, consequently not acknowledging the authority of Kapakisan and the
later Gelgel kings, trace back their genealogies 'to Java. This we see in
the Babad Pinatih, K 1134, the Babad Sukahet, and the Babad Arya Ta-
banan, K 1792. In one babad, that of Gusti Celuk, the fact that the family
doesn't acknowledge the Gelgel supremacy any longer, is even openly
mentioned.
The third basic text is part of the Usana Bali. It is an important
source for pasek, and bendesa genealogies, as confirmed in the already
mentioned Wariga Kusuma Dewa, in so far that they consider Kulputih as
their founding ancestor. These texts rarely contain any reference to the
Gelgel kingdom.
The arrival of Mpu Bharadah in Bali, is an important episode in
the 4th basic text, in the Calon Arang. In some Balinese versions, instead
of Bharadah, Wahu Rauh appears. It is to him and to a not yet traced
king Subali, that the Bangli Nyalian Babad, and the Babad Ksatriya Tainan
Bali refer, also without noting the supremacy of Gelgel. In some babad's
of the pande's for instance in Prasasti Pande Besi, Mpu Bharadah is con-
sidered as founding ancestor.
Babad's of the brahmans, some pasek and pande groups, as well
as other groups, reach back to the god Brahma, who, by meditating, created
an empu, who is a brahman, or a resi, who is a pasek. From either of
whom spring the various brahman and pasek branches. In an analogue,
but more complicated way, 'the pande groups came into being. The story

45
 H . I . R. HINZLER

of Mayadanava, like it is told in the Usana Bali, is given, but on the other
hand 'the Mpu Kuturan is mentioned, known from the Usana Java.
Shortly said, we are able to define up till now 4 texts as basic.
First, the Pamancangah, but mixed with fragments of Babad Dalem and the
second part of the Rajapurana. Second, 'the Usana Java, third, the Usana
Bali, and jourth, the Calon Arang. A jijth one, dealing with the meditation
cf the god Brahma, or another god, is not yet traced. Thus, all of them,
except the Calon Arang, belong to the group B of our classification made
in the beginning of this paper, and can be postulated to have been written
during the 16th and 17th Centuries. For a better grasp of these basic texts
and their fragments in the babad's, a thorough comparison of the texts is
required, which falls beyond the preview of this paper.
The babad's use differing languages. First there is Tengahan, based
on the 16th Century Javanese, as in the Kidung Pamancangah. Secondly
there is a mixture of simplified Tengahan and Balinese, which the Balinese
themselves call Kawi. This Kawi language is even up till now still written
as well as spoken for instance by stage actors and performers of the shadow
play. As a third there is Balinese, primarily high Balinese, but where
necessary mixed with low Balinese, A babad written in verse generally
contains an elder and more litterary Balinese, which is difficult even for
the people of today. This lis for instance the case in the Kidung Nderet,
on the battle of Mengwi, which was, according to babad specialist, Ida
Bagus Made Lepeg, from Panarukan, written on behalf of the 12th king
of Tabanan, in the middle of the 19th Ceritury. Four, there is the Sasak
language, used in the babad texts originating from Lombok, which was
long ruled over by the kings of Karang Asem.
According to the same Ida Bagus Made Lepeg, the language of a
babad has to be Kawi or Tengahan proze, and a pamancangah ought to
be in verse form. Texts, written in Tengahan are considered as older (may
be 16th Century) than those in a mixture of Balinese and Kawi, or in
literary Balinese. Usually 'Che texts are written a long time after the events
mentioned in them. As a consequence one may assume that the oldest of
the babad texts in Balinese-.Kövw' date from the late 18fh Century.
A model babad could be said to contain the following parts :
1. sloka
For instance :
Ong pranamya sira sang dewam bukti mukti hitar tayam
prawakaye tatwa wijneyah brahma di pata ya swarab.
This is the beginning of the Babad Andul.
"Sloka" means here "verse", and does not refer to the Sanskrit con-
ception of sloka.
2. pangaksama
We find : pangaksama ninghulun ring pada batara hyang Mami, sang
ginelar ing sarining ongkaratna mantram, hredaya sunilapam
siddhia yogiswarani

46
 THE BALINESE BABAD

in the Babad Dalem, K43. "pangaksama" means the mercy someone

asks, before starting with something.
3. pamahbah
This word means "introduction". The family or group whose descent
is concerned, is refered to.
4. jragment of one of the basic texts, which leads to.
5. palaUntih, genealogy, of the family or group mentioned under 3. Not
only does this genealogy differ in almost every babad but it also
differs within a group of babads, having the same title, as for example
in both of the Babad Arya Tabanan. In addition to the genealogy, the
residence of the groups is stressed.
6. martial stories and other stories are provided, wherein the posession
or acquisition of a magic weapon is a favoured theme.
7. ritual aspects are for instance the offerings required, in order 'to praise
the gods of the temples which are under the patronage of the families
or groups. Death rituals may also be discussed, as for example in
the Babad Pinatih. A certain Mpu Sedah reveals to Arya Pinatih, who
is of brahmanic descent, the correct application of strictures regarding
the construction of the funeral towers. He stresses that it is permis-
sible to use a bull form as a coffin, while the so-called nagabandha
is not to be employed, because it is the privilege of the ksatriya's.
8. colophon, like: "Iti Babad Ratu ka-Aryan Tabanan samapta karancana
olih ngulun Ksatriya Arya wansaja kang apasajana Anak Agung Ngurah
Potrakasunu, pansiun Kretopapati Tabanan kang kanggeh Angrurah
Kurambitan kaping sepuluh, saptang tutunan saking puri Agung
Tabanan sida Angecapi, etc., dated 1859 Çaka, whioh is 1937 A.D.
Only later texts express dates.
The function of a babad for the Balinese is related to their religious
concepts, in which ancestor veneration, especially the care of the souls of
the dead plays an important role. An ancestor's soul feels comfortable
when it is correctly cared for by its descendants, as well as that the decen-
dant feels content after having fulfilled the ritual. In order to venerate
one's ancestor, one has to know his name, genealogy and location. It is
because of this, that a Balinese family or group, according to the data of
I Gusti Ngurah Ketut Sangka, fears to become "kapegatan suluh", a term
which denote "to have an extinguished genealogy".
The possession of a babad in the same way, has something to do
with someone's place in society and with family proud. One knows how to
address such a person, and which titulature and social dialect, that is high
or low Balinese, should be used. These are of course features necessary
for a feeling of social case among the Balinese. To be a member of an
old established family, for instance ksatriya Dalem, is something to be proud
47
 H. I. R. HINZLER

of. Therefore, genealogy and place of origin, not chronology or facts are
important for the Balinese.
The question if babad's are still being written at present, can be
answered positively. There is a tendency for groups, in the past considered
of lower rank, to have a babad composed, due to the fall of the kingdoms
and the founding of the Indonesian Republic, which formally does not
recognize ranks of nobility. The same tendency exists among the lower
ranking descendents of the royal families, who did not have a babad of
their own up till now, but used those of higher ranking relatives. These new
babad's are not as complete as older ones. They consist mainly of geneo-
logies.
Finally I would like to give an example illustrating how 'the Babad
Arya Tabanan of Krambitan, was written. Data concerning this were received
in 1972, from I Gusti Ngurah Ketut Sangka. There were reasons to have a
new babad written. There had been a BAT, the original of which was placed
in the main Puri in Tabanan and a copy of which was in a Jro. At the
end of 'the 19th Century, due to fire in the main puri of Tabanan, the
original text was lost. This was considered a great loss by the prince of
Tabanan. A transcription of the older copy, placed in the jro, was made
and again deposited in the main puri. It is not certain whether this new
text was completely parallel to the older copy, or not. Possible elaborations
were added. When the Dutch conquered Tabanan in the beginning of this
Century (1906), the BAT was confiscated by them and was later placed
in the Kirtya in Singaraja, on the authority of I Gusti Putu Jelantik, a
member of a branch of the Buleleng princes. It was returned sometime during
the thirties to pun' Anom in Tabanan. The above mentioned two texts might
be the numbers K 940 and K 850 of the Kirtya.
By that time, the Krambitan branch of the Tabanan princes wanted
to have a babad of their own. Already in 1917 Gusti Putu Oka, father
of I Gusti Ngurah Ketut Sangka, started to collect those babad's bearing
reference to Tabanan, as the Pararaton, the Usana Bali, the Babad Blahbatuh,
Dalem, Badung, Mengwi, Buleleng, not neglecting the "Geschiedenis van
Java" by Fruin-Mecs. Old people, who were considered as experts in the
field of genealogy were also consulted. All this was written down in a
notebook. In this notebook he further added corrections on to the old BAT
from Puri Anom, which he had used as a stafting point for the new babad.
In 1937 he began to arrange his notes, although having become blind in
the mean time, and to dictate these to a certain schoolteacher, who was
known for his elegant hand Kawi, the language of the old BAT, was so
much as possible maintained as a language for the new edition. The rough
draft took six months. Having been submitted to various specialists in the
fields of babad, genealogy and language, corrections having been entered
by them, a brahman scribe was sought to transfer the text on to lontar
leaves. The "pamahbah" was composed by I Gusti Putu Oka and a member
of The royal house of Tabanan. Herein the texts consulted are listed.
Hereafter comes a "pangaksama", written by a brahman priest, who later

s
 THE BALINESE BABAD

also consecrated the text. However, in most babad's the order of pamahbah
and pangaksama is reversed.
In the new B A T only seven generations of ancestors are enumerated
after which one continues with the more recent generations. Consequently,
not all the ancestors of the old BAT were taken up in the new. The number
of 7 is noteworthy..
The babad having been written, it was consecrated (mlaspas) by
Ida Padanda Gde Rai, of griya Kedampal in Krambitan. Mlaspas is a
process employed after the making of various objects, such as sculptures,
masks, houses, etc. In a mlaspas a sloka and/or pangaksama of the priest
may appear in the babad. Apart from the original BAT, two copies were
made. These were also consecrated. The original, bound in black and white
crossed material was deposited in the pavillion named "saren tegelï' in Puri
Gede, Krambitan. Other relics are also kept in this pavillion. The original
may not be loaned out. One copy, placed in a chest with other lontars
may be borrowed and copied. The second copy was given to a fro.
A babad, unlike a kakawin, is not reqited in public, rather it is
more usual that two or three members of the family meet, read and discuss
its contents. Generally speaking jaba's and women are said not to read
babad's.
Authors of babad's and babad specialists are usually brahmans. This
is because they represent the highest, religious rank, which makes the babad
most valuable, and because they have a good knowledge of Kawi and litera-
ture and often have memorized many genealogies.

Summary — conclusions
Each royal house, group of brahmans or other recognized group or
sect desires to honour and to localize their ancestors. This can be done
by having a written genealogy, termed babad, in their posession. Of these,
there are various kinds.
A. the older babad's, presumably of the 17th, 18th and beginning of the
19th Centuris, which have extensive episodes concering the ancestors
who immigrated to Bali from Java. Royal families, descended from the
kings of Gelgel, or who have a relation with them via one of the Arya,
consider as a basic text of their babad the 16th Century Kidung
Pamancangah, or its later adaptions. Other families, not wishing to
exhibit their dependency on the kings of Gelgel use the Usana Java,
the Usana Bali or other texts as starting point. Brahmans, pande's,
and other groups, refer back to the Usana Bali and Calon Arang as
well as to texts not yet traced.

49
 H. I. R. HINZLER

B. the later babad's, written since the end of the 19th Century, which refer
to one of the later princes or ancestors be it that they originate io
Gelgel or elsewhere, and from these personages trace their descent.
At the moment there is a revived interest in the making of babad's,
especially among groups previously considered to be of low rank.
As concerns the babad's of group A and their basic texts, further
research is indicated. This will be possible only when the collection of
MSS is as complete as possible. There are also new texts found daily and
many MSS in posession of the University Library of Leiden, the Kirtya of
Singaraja, or the Fakultas Sastra in Den Pasar, of which there are no
copies elsewhere. It is to be hoped that a fruitfull exchange of copies of
aiese MSS can take place in the near future.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Babad Andul, coll. Hooykaas, Z. '400.

Babad Arya Pacung, coll. Hooykaas, Z. 10.
Babad Arya Tabanan, Kirtya, K. 1792.
Babad Badung, coll. Hooykaas, Z. 352.
Babad Bangli NyaUan, Kirtya, K. 2195.
Babad Batur, Kirtya, K. 834.
Babad Dalem, coll. Hooykaas, Z. 672.
Babad Dalem Srampangan, Kirtya, K. 1045.
Babad Gusti Celuk, Kirtya, K. 1315.
Babad Jawi Nguni, Kirtya, K. 7801.
Babad Ksatriya, coli. Hooykaas, Z. 693.
Babad Sukahet, Kirtya, K. 1921.
Babad Ksatriya Taman Bali, Kirtya, K. 1026.
Babad Mengwi-Buleleng, Kirtya, K. 1135.
Babad Ni Calon Arang, Kirtya, K. 1844.
Babad Nderet, Kirtya, K. 253.
Babad Pandé Bang, Kirtya, K. 1230.
Babad Pasek, Kirtya, K. 965.
Babad Pinatth, coli. Hooykaas, Z. 10.
Babad Pinatih, Kirtya, K. 1134.

50
 THE BALINESE BABAD

Babad Pulasari, Kirtya, K. 1262.

Babad Pungakan Timbul, Kirtya, K. 1154.
Babad Ksatriya, Kirtya, K. 958; K. 6921.
Berg, C C , Babad Blahbatuh, 1932,
Beru. C C , Kidung Pamancangah, Santpoort, 1926.
Berg, C C , "Kidung Sunda", BKI, 83, 1927.
Brahmanapurana, Kirtya, K. 678.
Brandes, J., Beschrijving der Javaansche, Balineesche en Sasaksche Hand-
schriften in de nalatenschap van dr. H.N. van der Tuuk, 1901.
Brandes, J., "Negara Kertagama", VBG, 54,1, 1904.
Brandes, J., "Pararaton", VBG, 49,1, 1897, revised by N.J. Krom a o
VBG, 62, 1920.
Dharma Kapandeyan, Kirtya, K. 1473.
Gaguritan Pararaton, coll. Hooykaas, Z. 841.
Gaguritan Rusak Buleleng, Kirtya, K. 1035.
Gaguritan Uweg Gianyar, Kirtya, K. 560.
i Gusti Made Susrana, Sejarah Empu Baradah, 1956.
Ida Bagus Putu Bek, Kitab Sejarah Dang Hyang Nirartha, 1959.
Kandan Calon Arang, Kirtya, K. 1844.
Kawi tan Pasek Gelgel, Kirtya, K. 1078.
Kidung Pamancangah, coli. Hooykaas, Z. 249.
Pabalik Gusti Batan Jeruk, Kirtya, K. 1010.
Pamancangah Tabanan, Kirtya, K. 950.
Pambuktian WHatikta, Kirtya, K. 724.
Parikan Lawé, coll. Kirtya, K. 426.
Paswara Catur Nagara, Kirtya, K. 1156.
Piagem Pinatih, Kirtya, K. 818.
Pigeaud, Th., Java in the 14th Century, The Hague : Nijhoff, 1960.
Pigeaud, Th., Literature of Java, vol. I, II, III, 1967-1970.
Poerbatjaraka, R. Ng., "De Calon Arang", BKI, 82, 1926.
Prasasti Pande, Kirtya, K. 1171.
Rajapurana, Kirtya, K. 828; K. 1531.
Rereg Kadin, Kirtya, K. 1972.
Rusak Sasak, Kirtya, K. 507.

51
 H. I. R. HINZLER

Sejarah Maospahh, coll. Hooykaas, Z. 328.

Usana Bali, Kirtya, K. 43.
Usana Java, Kirtya, K. 360.
Yudha Mangwi, Kirtya, K. 501.
Wariga Kusuma Dewa, Kirtya, K. 1804.
Worsley, ed., Babad Buleleng, 1972.

rtuA

52
 BUSTAN - COPY AND THE JOHOR - HISTORIES *
ULRICH KRATZ
UNIVERSITY INDONESIA

The libraries in Jakarta and Leiden preserve two manuscripts

(Ms von de Wall 196 and Ms Kl (inkert) 24 B) which according to their
description given by van Ronkel in 1909 (Jakarta) and 1921 (Leiden) do
contain a 'Hikajat Atjeh', but which in fact deal mainly with the history
of Johor in the 18th century. Indeed, at their beginning they do report
on the history of Aceh, but to continue after some pages without any
break or any other discernible sign with the history of Johor. Only a
closer look reveals, 'mat those first pages are not taken from the 'Hikajat
Atjeh'. In reality they are pages taken from Bab II fasal 13 of the Bus-
tanus-Salatin by Nuru'd-din ar-Raniri. Those very first pages shall be
discussed in this paper, but before proceeding to them, a few words about
the bigger part of the two manuscripts which deal with the Johor his.ory.
Although their text in many ways is different from other known
manuscripts which belong to this group, as for example the Hikayat Negeri
Johor and the Tuhfat al-Nafis by Raja Ali Haji and the Silsilah Melayu
dan Bug's with their various sources, they only dSffer in minor details
from each other and can be regarded as identical. The said difference to
other manuscripts results from their length and their contents. The part
of these manuscripts which covers the history of Johor is shorter than the
Hikayat Negeri Johor. Besinning with the well-^known formula that Johor
was conquered by Jambi it takes the history of Johor only up to 1750,
whereas the Hikayat Negeri Johor leads us right into the 19th century.
These two manuscripts alco contain information, which can't be found
elsewhere, like a shair, 'the text of a treaty and two letters.
The manuscripts Kl 24 B and von de Wall 196 were copied in
the middle of last century, just like most of the other manuscripts about
lohor and, by the way, just like the known copies of the Bustan. But
whereas it can be concluded, 'that the Hikayat Negeri Johor in its present
form was compiled last century, from the said two manuscripts one can
gain the impression, that their text is older. They not only contain the
above mentioned primary-sources, but the whole set-up of the manuscripts
gives another picture. The manuscripts conclude at a time, when Sultan
Sulaiman still is reigning, but they don't end abruptly, i.e.. they have the
outward appearance of a proper ending, which also is to be seen from
the way of writing, and, for example, the shair mentioned above, which
praises a newly installed bendahara must have been written by a
contemporary. The manuscripts, which each show one hand-writing
throughout the text, were most likely copied in Riau and, judging from

* Paper presented at the Vth IAHA Conference, Yogyakarta, 1974

53
 ULRICH KRATZ

the way of writing, they were written by different persons. Their writers
and/or copyists are unknown.
A comparison of the two manuscripts with the other known copies
as well as with Tuhfat al-Nafis and Silsilah Melayu dan Bugis led to
the conclusion, that they do not contain just another copy of the Hikayat
Negen Johor, in fact they present another version of the same story, i.e.
the conflict and power - struggle between Bugis, Johor - and Siak-Malay.
If we regard the picture which is given by Tuhfat al-Nafis and Silsilah
Melayu dan Bugis as the Bugis - version of this struggle, the Hikayat Negeri
Johor tells the story from a Siak-point of view, whereas those two
manuscripts contain a different version, namely the sequel of events as
Sultan Sulaiman and his followers liked it to be seen.
But this is not the only fact, which makes the manuscripts Kl 24 B
and yon de Wall 196 different from the others. Afthougil they don't give
the impression that their text consists of two parts, their beginning is
different, as it is taken from the Bustan.
The two manuscripts don't give us the complete fasal, but some
excerpts about life and reign of Sultan Iskandar Thani, the successor of Sultan
Iskandar Muda, as well as some passages with reference to Johor. Com-
paring contents and spelling of this part of the manuscripts with each
other, they can be said to be almost identical. Only at one instance manu-
script von de Wall 196 contains two sentences which are not included in
manuscript Kl 24 B, but which can be found in the printed edition of
this fasal, which was arranged by Teuku Iskandar. Regarding the spelling,
the manuscripts show only minor differences. At cases manuscript von
de Wall 196 seems clearer and we have added a name or word missing or
misread in Kl 24 B, but which can be found in de edited text.
When comparing the contents with the text edited, it has to be
said, that, the passages quoted are literal copies. Only a few summarizing
sentences are the exception.
Since these two manuscripts almost certainly were copied in Riau,
a special comparison was made with T. Iskandar's description of his manu-
script C, an incomplete copy of the Bustan, which is kept in the Library
of the University of Malaya and which, according to T. Iskandar has been
copied in Johor court-circies in 1231 hijra (ca. 1816). Following T. Iskandar's
description and his annotations, we find with one exception toe same pecu-
liarities, i.e. 'hilang' become 'mangkaf or 'kembali ke rahmat ul-llah' and
'alalhi'-salam' and 'salla'lahu 'alaihi wasalam' are written in their complete
form and not shortened. The difference only concerns the speling ot the
words 'manusia' 'perkasa', which are not spelt as in manuscript C 'manushia'
and 'perkakasha'. Only once von de Wall 196 shows the spelling 'tuha'
as found in edited text. Ommissions and/or additions in their contents
don't seem to correspond, except that the three manuscripts miss the des-
scription of the wedding-ceremonies of Sultan Iskandar Thani. Apart from
that, the time-period covered by manuscript C and the Jakarta and Leiden
manuscripts differs from each other. Whereas manuscript C ends with the

54
 B U S T A N - C O P y AND THE JOHOR - HISTORIES

coronation of Sultan Iskandar Thani, those two other manuscripts only

come to an end with the death of this ruler. Summarizing the contents of
the two manuscripts, they begin in describing the meeting between the
seven years old then Sultan Bungsu, whom Sultan Iskandar Muda recognizes
as a blessed one. Next the text states, that Iskandar Muda has Sultan
Bungsu educated and that after two years the ruler expresses his desire,
to marry him with his daughter Puteri Sri Alam Permaisuri. Not mentioning
the detailed preparations for the wedding, the text says, that the wedding
took place in the presence of Sheikh Shamsu'd-Din and that the title Sultan
Husain Shah was conferred upon Sultan Bungsu. Omitting the festivities and
elaborate ceremonies which took place after Sultan Husain Shah's 10th
birthday, the manuscripts continue, how the young prince was named
Sultan Mughal and was appointed as a crown-prince. Next follows the
news of Sultan Iskandar Muda's death and the coronation of Sultan
Iskandar Thani, whose reign is to bring happiness and justice to everybody,
as the incomplete eulogy voices. Without mentioning an effort to poison
the Sultan and deleting 'Che arrival of some treacherous Peringgi as well
as the behaviour of Haji Kamal from Bengal, the text continues with the
creation of beautiful garden, Taman Ghairah. The detailed description of
this garden, which covers pages in the edited text and which is also to be
found in the Hikayat Hang Tuah, is miissiing. The ruler's intention to
travel to Pasei in 1636 is stated, without referring to the discussion
preceding it. The presence of a Dutch embassy at that time is not
mentioned as in contrast to the arrival of an embassy from Johor, which
accompanied the ruler to Pasai. The complete itinerary of the ruler's
journey in Pasei is missing. The departure of Paduka Raja, who led the
embassy from Johor is mentioned again, as well as the ruler's further
activities, which are found in the printed text. Also mentioned are the
Johor attack on Pahang, Sultan Iskandar Thani's reaction to it and
finally his death. Here ends this copy of fasal 13. The text still contains
a note on laksamana's calling to Malacca and on the journey of Sultan
Abdul Jalil JJ of Johor to Makam Tauhid, his new capital, in 1646.
Immediately after this reference the manuscripts go on with Jambi's victory
over Johor, which must have taken place in 1672, according to these
manuscripts, and not in 1673, as usually recorded.
The manuscripts don't contain very much less factual information
than the printed text. Not mentioned are the attempted murder of the Sultan,
the arrival of some Peringgi, the Bengalese merchant and the Dutch embassy.
All other events are reported, but still it is different. As seen from the above
summary, these two manuscripts miss the detailed descriptions. When
Nuru'd-Din indulges in lengthy though interesting descriptions, these
manuscripts are more matter-of-fact. And it is this very character, which
makes these copies attractive, as they can serve well as an example how
the information for manuscripts of this kind has been compiled and
collated. In fact, the first part of the manuscripts Kl 24 B and van de
Wall 196 is of greater importance for the study of the following text on
Johor, than it is for the establishing of a final text of the Bustan. In

55
 ULRICH KRATZ

reading those passages from the Bustan it not only can be seen that the
compiler(s) of these manuscripts made a selection, but also how they
choose their material. The writer(s) copied most of the factual information
and omitted most of the descriptive passages. This again throws an
interesting light on the following Johor-text, which is very similar in style
and which also contains at several places a phrase, that the writer does
not not want to continue a certain story, in order not to lengthen the whole.
It now becomes even more obvious than before, that this Johor-text repres-
ents a compilation and abstract from other sources. Direct speech and
descriptive language of the original, which still can be found in both texts
have been reduced in our present copies and don't count any longer as
stylistic means on their own. Here they stay as last remnants of another
text and serve as indicators of their text's origin. They show, that this
text still is close to its original source, as is proved in the case of the
Rustan-exceipts, which are reported literally. On a very small scale, here
we can see, how certain kinds of historical manuscripts by way of simple
reduction rather than concentration gained their present shape. This in
contrast to another possible development of texts, which tends to enlar-
gement rather than to reduction, depending on which purpose a text was
to serve, being a historical narrative or a mere compilation of historical
facts. There is to discern between texts like the ones on Johor, which
contain an enumeration of Facts, selected in accordance wi;h the
intentions of a certain writer, compiler and/or royal patron and which
are simple excerpt-copies and, in contrast to those just mentioned texts
as for example the Tuhfat and the Bustan, which represent a category on
its own, with a capable, inspired mind as its author, who sets out with
the well-defined purpose, to write something new.
Two questions concerning 'this excerpt of the Bustan remain
unsolved : Which were the reasons for this specific selection and why do
these excerpts precede the Johor-text? There is of course a historical
sequel in this set-up. These are the events which chronologically precede
the following happenings; and after Acheh's decline it. was Johor, which
at least for a few decades gained in power. But if we regard this part
of the manuscripts written from a Johor point of view, it must be said,
that those two references to Johor are too meagre in their essence, to
justify this long historical enumeration beginning with Sultan Iskandar
Thani's youth. Furthermore, for Johor vital events as for example the
defeat of the Acheh-fleet in 1628 and the recovery of Malacca in 1641
are not mentioned. Unnecessary to say, this was none of the aims of the
Bustan. From that it is impossible to galm the impression of a purposeful
draft. But if nevertheless this part of the Bustan was inserted intentionally,
there still remains the final question, why those thirty years until 1672,
which showed a prospering Johor are not mentioned whatsoever, and why
this text as well as the others which deal with the history of Johor,-only
begin with a defeat.

56
RELIGION
 SHI'A ELEMENTS IN MALAY LITERATURE *

BAROROH BARIED
GADJAH MADA UNIVERSITY

Introduction.
There are a few documents in the catalogues of Van Ronkel 1 and
Juynboll2 of which the contents are stories reminiscent of the Shi'a order,
that is, a sect considered3 in Islam, in origin dating back to the time when
Prophet Muhammad was still alive. These documents relate stories about
Ali bin Abi Talib, his wife Fatimah, and both his sons Hasan and Husein.
The length of 'the narratives vary as can be seen from : Hikayat Nur Mu-
hammad VI,4 Hikayat Nabi I,a Hikayat Nabi mengajar Ali,a Hikayat
Raja Handak I, II, IV, V, and VII,7 Hikayat Muhammad Hanafiyah 8
and Cerita Tabut. 9 Part of these documents are either translations from
the original language, if not Arabic then Persian, or they are essays about
an episode in those narratives. Ali, his wife and sons, are often referred
to as ahl'l-bait, which means they belong to the house of Rasulullah.10
'The attention of the story is focussed on incidents in their life, and not
on Shi'a teaching. In this matter it differs from documents of which the
contents or trends are sufistic, Sufism being a sect in Islam that has left
deep imprints in Malay literature,. Sufism is dealt with and discussed in
many Malay documents. This sect has developed in the Indonesian ar-
chipelago and its leaders have left their writings in the form of books or
documents which deal with Sufism. Among them are, for example : Tabyan
fi ma'rijati'l adyan,n Mir'at utullab,12 Mir'at ul-mukmin.13 So much
about Sufism. As to Shi'a, this sect has developed and come into full
growth after its penetration of Persia.14 It has many followers in that

* Paper presented at the Vth IAHA Conference, Yogyakarta, 1974.

i Ph. S. van Ronkel, Catalogus der Maleische Handschriften in het Museum
van het Bataviasch Genootschap van Kunsten en Wetenschappen (Batavia,
1909).
2 H.H. Juynboll, Catalogus van de Maleische en Soendaneesche Handschriften
der Leidsche Universiteits - Bibliotheek (Leiden, 1899).
» H.A. Abubakar Acheh, Syi'ah (Semarang, 1972), pp. 1 0 - 1 1 .
* Ph. S. van Ronkel, op. cit., p.223.
» Ibid., p. 225.
« Ibid., p. 228.
T Ibid., p. 234 - 236.
» Ibid., p. 250 - 254.
» Ibid., p. 255.
îo R.s. Nicholson, A Literary History of the Arabs (Cambridge, 1953), p. 213.
n H.H. Juynboll, op. cit., p. 282.
12 Ibid., p. 625.
1= Ibid., p. 256.
i* R.A. Nicholson, op. cit., p. 214.

59
 BAROROH BARIED

country, and has since the sixteenth century even been the officially accepted
madzab there. This tradition is still being closely observed and is perpetuated
in the Constitution of Iran.15 Sufism too has come to its full growth and
bloom on Iranian soil. 16 Many of its leaders have written essays or books
on Sufism in Arabic and Persian, such as Al-Ghazali, Ibn'l Arabi and
Jalalu'ddin Rumi. 1T Indonesia has also witnessed Sufism in its development.
It has been written about and discussed. In North Sumatra this kind of
writing occurred in the 16th and 17th century, of which there are docu-
ments available.18
As sects in Islam, Sufism and Shi'a came into Indonesia together
with the advent of Islam in the 13th century after having passed through
Persia and India. 19 Worthy of note is the fact that Shi'a as a sect is less
well-known in Indonesia than Sufism. About Shi'a, Malay literature pos-
sesses documents only in the form of stories about the first leaders, never
about the doctrine itself. A few traditions which are considered as origi-
nating from the Shi'a sect are extent in certain areas, such as the com-
memoration of Husein's death in Karbella which is yearly observed in
Aceh, 20 Minangkabau and Java. To my knowledge no profound study
has as yet been undertaken as regards this aspect.

Shi'a and its development.

Shi'a is an Arabic word meaning follower or party. This term is
used to denote the group of Ali bin Abi Talib. This group believes in the
Koran, in Muhammad as the last Prophet, and in Ali as chosen by the
Prophet to succeed him. While in youth the Prophet was taken care of
by his uncle, Ali's father. Ali himself had a particular place in the Prophet's
life, he being the first man to have been converted 'to Islam, and a disciple
who possessed knowledge of Muhammad's life, a man who had given a
great deal of sacrifice for his sake. 21 According to Shi'a adherents, the
Prophet — while on his way back to Medina after having undertaken his
last haj — said, 'Allah is my leader, and I am leader of all mukminin.
Verily, for all those whom I lead Ali is leader'. He repeated this sentence
three or four times, and later he said, 'Oh, God, whoever befriends Ah,
let him be his friend, and whoever opposes him, let him be his opponent.'
Afterwards, before his life came to an end the Prophet left his umat a
message, stipulating that he would leave behind as a heritage : the Koran,
Sun-nah Rasul and his family.22
In accordance with the two hadis just mentioned and with some
isKenneth W. Morgan, Islam Djalan Mutlak (Djakarta, 1963), r 193.
ioSir Thomas Arnold, The Legacy of Islam (Oxford, 1952), p. 228.
VtIbid., pp. 228-238.
isG.W.J. Drewes, "Indonesia : Mysticism and Activism", in G.E Grunebaum,
Unity and Variety in Muslim Civilization (Chicago, 1Ö55), pp. 288-290.
i» Ibid., p. 287.
20 Koentjaraningrat, Manusia dan Kebudayaan Indonesia (Diambatan, 1971),
p. 287.
si Kenneth W. Morgan, op. cit., p. 170.
23 Ibid.

60
 SHI'A ELEMENTS IN MALAY LITERATURE

other hadis of the same contents, the Shi'a adherents are convinced that
actually it was Ah who had a right to the Caliphate after the Rasulullah.
And afterwards this office should be held by Ali's descendants. However,
another group had decided in favour of Abu Bakar as Caliph. AU submitted
to this decision, but his followers persisted in fighting for his right.
After Abu Bakar's demise, Umar assumed the office, to be later
on succeeded by Usman. Only after Usman the office came open for Ali.
When Ali fell a victim to a murderer's hand the Shi'a group appointed
his son, Hasan, as successor. Another group preferred Mu'awiyah governor
of Syria to succeed Ali to the calipathe. 23 Mu'awiyah's followers managed
to poison Hasan. The Shi'a group appointed Husein as successor. After
Mu'awiyah's death, his son Jazid, was chosen as the heir to the Calipathe
by the followers. Many people did not agree 'to this choice, Jazid being
a sinner, one who was ignorant of law, a man who neglected to do good
work. At length Jazid could manage to kill Husein at Karbella while on
his way to Kufa. Husein's death is considered a martyr's death. It is com-
memorated every year by the Shi'a group in all Islamic countries where
Shi'a influence is felt, including Indonesia.
The Shi'a leader is called Imam. Ali is considered the first Imam.
This position should be occupied by Ali's descendants about whom there
are two opinions among the Shi'a adherents themselves. Persia Shi'ites assert
that only descendants from Ali's marriage with Fatimah — Muhammad's
daughter — are entitled to be Imam. The Arab Shi'ites have the opinion that
the office of Imam is indiscriminately open to all Ali's descendants, ir-
respective of his wife. This difference of opinion has brought about discord
within Shi'a. It should be clear that in addition to Fatimah Ali had taken
another wife from 'the Hanafiyah tribe. By this marriage a son was born
by the name of Muhammad ibn Hanafiyah who avenged Husein's death.
He fought against Jazid but was defeated and with his men found death
ill a cave, having been surrounded by the enemy. The Arab Shi'a acknow-
ledged him as an Imam who was considered not dead but only hidden,
and who, from his hiding place continued leading his partisans. In the
future he would reveal himself again to return to the midst of his followers
to lead them direct.24 This group gave to Muhammad Ibn Hanafiyah's
teaching the appellation of the teaching of the hidden imam The Persian
Shi'ites do not acknowledge Muhammad Ibn Hanafiyah as an imam. To
them there are in all 12 imams as their leaders. These 12 imams begin
with Ali and end with Al-Muntazar in the 9th century. The last imam
is considered not dead. He has vanished momentarily to reappear in the
future to lead his followers. This group is called Shi'a Ithna 'ashariyah
or Shi'a Imamiyah, up to the present being dominant in Persia. 26

23 Ibid., p. 178.
2* Ignaz Goldziher, Vorlesungen über den Islam (Heidelberg, 1925), p. 217.
26 E.G. Browne, A Literary History of Persia (Cambridge, 1951), p. 295.

61
 BAROROH BARIED

The points in the Shi'a doctrine are as follow : 26

1. Every Shi'ites has to know and believe in the rukuns iman, i.e. :
a) believe in God's oneness, b) God's justice, c) in Rasulullah and
his predictions, d) in the twelve imams, e) the last day.
2. There are four sources in religion :
a) the Karan, b) the Sunnah Rasul, c) ijmak, and d) reason.
3. The imamat is established in accordance with the Prophet's prediction.
4. All God's attributes are part of God's substance.
5. The door of ijtihad is open for deciding the laws of religion.
6. The Constitution of Shi'a compiled in four books, which are second to
the Koran.
7. There are two kinds of alms :
a) zakat is one-tenth of one's wealth to be distributed to eight cate-
gories contained in the Koran.
b) khums, one-fifth of one's wealth to be distributed to the imam and
the Prophet's descendants who do not receive zakat.
8. It is everyone's duty to tell any other person to act virtuously and to
ward off evil.

Shi'a elements in Malay literature.

If one reads Malay stories, in particular those relating to the Pro-
phet and the people around him, one would be struck by the fact that
among those stories there is a special place reserved for Ah and his family,
i.e. his wife Fatimah, and his two sons Hasan and Husein. One would feel
that in some stories their role is made to appear or their names alluded
to. Ali in his position as Caliph is made to appear more striking than any
of the others. In like manner, in his position as the Prophet's disciple
he is depicted more conspicuously than any of the others. In fact, to the
Shi'a Ah and his family are glorious. In the Shi'ites opinion they excell
over all ordinary people because of their superhuman qualities.
As regards Ali's son from the other wife, viz. Muhammad Ibn Ha-
nafiyah, his pre-eminence is illustrated in one story only, namely in the
'Hikayat Muhammad Ibn Hanafiyah'. I am of the opinion that the author's
policy attitude of putting the Shi'a leaders in the limelight was conditioned
by the influence exerted on him by the Shi'a sect. For that reason Shi'a
elements can be traced in the works. As far as I know, no profound study
has as yet been undertaken regarding these existing elements within Malay
literature in particular, and inside the entire literature of the archipelago
in general. Such as a study would be beneficial with a view to enable and
facilitate the compilation and formation of theories which might solve pro-
blems pertaining to the Shi'a sect in our archipelago.

2« H.S.R. Gibb, Shorter Encyclopaedia of Islam (New York, 1955), pp. 538-540.
G2
 SHI'A ELEMENTS IN MALAY LITERATURE

To make the first step in that direction I have tried to collect Shi'a
elements that are scattered here and there within Malay literature. The data
gathered will help in the furtherance of the study. These data are taken
from documents available in the catalogues of Van Ronkel and Juynboll,
and also from abbreviated documents found in Old Indonesian Literature
under the influence of Islam.2T
1. Hikayat Nur Muhammad. a8
It contains the story of a bird created from Nur Muhammad. This
Bird's head is Ali, its eyes Hasan and Husein, its neck Fatimah of Syria.
Mention is also made of Ali's descendants. The story ends in Ali's
death. Hikayat Muhammad Hanafiyah and Hikayat Syah-i Merdan
also contain Hikayat Nur Muhammad. 20
2. Hikayat Bulan Berbelah. (Moon broken in two ?) 3 0
On pp. 21-48 entitled "Hikayat tatkala Rasulullah memberi sedekah
kepada seorang derwisy". The contents of the story are not in keeping
with its title, because the story depicts how Ali managed to defeat
king Sowail.
3. Hikayat Raja Khaibar. 31
This document contains the story of AU when he was dreaming. He
could subdue three viziers. He was able to spread Islam, after which
he returned to the Prophet.
4. Hikayat Pendeta Raghib.32
Ali has resolved to wage war with a Jewiah territory in Khaibar.
5. Hikayat Tamin Ad-Dari.33
In this story AU is requested to act as judge to give verdict in a
dispute between Tamin and a man who married Tamin's wife during
his absence. Ali's verdict is that the woman should be returned to
Tamin. Ali said, 'Every man should shake hands with Tamin'. Then
he told the woman to give back the dowry she received from that man.
6. Hikayat Muhammad Hanafiyah.34
The whole story is characteristic of Shi'a. The story related Ali's three
sons, viz. Hasan, Husein and Muhammad Hanafiyah. This is the only
Malay document in which the story dwells on Muhammad Hanafiyah.
The document opens with the story of Nur Muhammad. Later on it
proceeds to Muhammad's birth, his life, the life of the four Caliphs,
-' "Singkatan Naskah Sastra Indonesia Lama Pengaruh Islam". Bahasa dan
Kesusasteraan, Seri Khusus no. 18, (1973).
2H Ph. S. Ronkel, op. cit., pp. 222-225.
29 H.H. Juynboll, op. cit., pp. 202.
30 Ibid., p. 182.
31 Ph. S. van Ronkel, op. cit., p. 238.
32 Ibid., p. 239.
83 ibid., p. 244.
34 Ibid., pp. 250 - 254.
 BAROROH BARIED

the story of Hasan Husein, and finally the story of Hanafiyah. This
story comprises 197 pages of which page 125 begins with the story
of Muhammad Hanafiyah.
7. Hikayat Ali Kawin.3S
Contains the story of Ali's marriage to Fatimah, with decorations sent
from heaven and angels among the guests during the wedding.
8. Hikayat Fatimah berkata dengan pedang AU. 30 (Fatimah talking with
Ali's sword).
Also called Hikayat Fatimah when talking Ali's sword, named Dzul-
fakar. The contents resemble Hikayat Nabi teaching his daughter
Fatimah.
9. Hikayat Nabi mengajar AH.37
Has in it the story of the Prophet teaching Ali about syariat, tarikai,
hakikat and ma'rifat.
10. Hikayat Nabi mengajar anaknya Fatimah.36
The Prophet teaches Fatimah woman's duties. This story is also called
Hikayat Nabi Muhammad mengajar anaknya Bibi Fatimah. 39
11. Cerita Tabut.40
It contains the story about the miracles in Husein's life and his death
at Karbella. This story is linked up with the Tabut celebration.
12. Hikayat Amh'l Mukminin Umar.41
Ah fights Kisra and succeeds in killing Rustam. Husein marries a
daughter of king Horman Syah.
13. Hikayat Raja Khondak.42
Because the story is almost entirely about Ali it is more proper for
this document to be entitled Hikayat Ali. In this story Ali holds the
most prominent role. He succeeds in conquering king Khondak, king
Ifrit, king Peranggi and king Badar.
14. Bustanussalatin.4S
The 6th chapter occurring on page 250 is about the Prophet's message
Aminu'l Mukmin Ali.
35 Ibid., p. 254.
30 Ibid., pp. 254-255.
3V Ibid., p. 228.
38 Ibid.
s» H.H. Juynboll, op. cit., p. 188.
& Ph. S. van Ronkel, op. cit., p. 188.
« H.H. Juynboll, op. cit., p. 200.
«2 "Singkatan . . . ", op. cit., p. 21.
« Juynboll, op. cit., p. 220.

64
 SHI'A ELEMENTS I N MALAY LITERATURE

] 5. Hikayat Nabi Bercukur. *4

The Prophet has his hair cut by Jabrail in the presence of his four
disciples viz. Abu Bakar, TJmar, Usman, and Ali.
16. Hikayat Nabi Wafat. 45
When the Prophet feels his end approaching he takes leave of Aisyah
and Fatimah. Afterwards he goes to the mosque. There he asks of
those in the congregation whom he may have wronged to get redress
from him. Akasya's grievance is that once in a battle he suffered from
a blow occasioned by the Prophet's whip. Subsequently the Prophet
asks Bilal to take the whip from Fatimah to be given to Akasya as
a means for his revenge. Fatimah is prepared 'to incur the punishment
for her father's sake. Eventually Akasya relinquishes his claim. Fa-
timah asks the Prophet when she will meet him again, to which the
reply is that it will be in heaven on doom's day.
17. Hikayat Abusamah. 40
As a punishment for having committed adultary Abusamah is whipped
till he dies. At night, Ah, Umar, and Usman dream seeing him paying
his respects to the Prophet.

Conclusion.
These are rough and imperfect data with regard to Shi'a elements
in Malay stories. They are still rough in that they constitute only fragments
of stories about Ah and his family (Ahl'l-bait). No selection has been made
as to which of the data indicate real Shi'a elements. Nor are they perfect,
because they are derived, not from all the existing Malay documents, but
from a limited number which, in particular, show clearly that they carry
Shi'a elements. In fact, more careful study will bring to light that Shi'a
elements exist in stories other than those of which the contents have bear-
ing on Shi'a narratives. For example, there is in Hikayat Amir Hamzah an
episode dealing with Ali's war against the heathens, a fragment as well
about the Prophet teaching Fatimah what woman's duties are. 47 The names
Hasan and Husein are also sporadically interwoven in many stories. In
various stories whenever the name Ali is mentioned, we may every so often
read this term followed by the eulogy 'karrama'l-lahu wajhahu', which
means 'may God bless Ali'. As a summing-up, what has been gathered this
far forms but the first step towards more profound and further study.

^
«« "Singkatan . . . ", op. cit., p. 21.
« Ibid., p. 33.
*« Ibid., p. 44.
«T G.K. Niemann, Bloemlezing uit Maleische Geschriften ('s-Gravenhage, 1906),
65
 THE INSTITUTIONALIZATION OF ISLAM IN THE
MALAY PENINSULA : SOME PROBLEMS FOR
THE HISTORIAN *

WILLIAM R. ROFF
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY

In general, historians are concerned with the analysis and under-

standing of social change over varying periods of time — periods usually
characterized, however, by their length rather than their brevity, which is
one of the things that helps to distinguish them from sociologists. Thus,
as a simplistic example, one might wish to understand and explain what
happened in England between (say) 1780 and 1880, the period known as
the industrial revolution. There is a before and an after. If one looks at
English society in 'the mid-eighteenth century it presents one face — one
set of social structures — in the mid-nineteenth manifestly another. What
happened in between?
In my case, I am concerned with a completely different sort of
society — the largely peasant Malay society of peninsular Malaya — and not
with all its aspects but with one which to me, as an historian, seems of
central importance : the nature and structure of Islamic authority within
Malay society, over time. The 'before' and the 'after' can be represented
fairly plainly, if at some risk of oversimplification.
In the early nineteenth century (say), in the riverine peasant
societies that characterized the peninsular Malay negeri, or state systems,
all Malays (the vast bulk of the inhabitants) were in some sense Muslim.
Religious authority — and I am here talking rather arbitrarily about speci-
fically Islamic religious authority and not magical or other systems of
belief by no means always completely dissociated from Islam — showed a
marked degree of localization or devolution. Religion was the province of
village practitioners or fuctionaries — the imam who led congregational
Friday and certain other common ritual prayers in the village surau
(prayer house), perhaps a khatib to recite Friday sermons and bilal to
call the prayer times. Though in a hmited sense specialists, all were
ordinary members of the village community, padi farmers like their fellows,
for the most part chosen or self-selected from within the community
either by reason of special skills, learning and piety, or because of (often
allied) superior wealth in land — the latter especially true in the case of
imam to whose families surau buildings often belonged. Though the negeri
might well be partitioned, nominally, into mukim surau (parishes), each
with its imam and other officials, there was little or no external super-
ordinate ritual activity above the village level into which they might be
drawn. Disputes within the village relating to Islamic law — most frequently

Paper presented at the Vlth IAHA Conference, Yogyakarta, 1974.

66
 THE INSTITUTIONALIZATION OF ISLAM

concerning divorce and inheritance — were settled almost entirely at the

village level. Likewise, contractual matters involving Islam — most obviously
marriage — were undertaken there.
At the centre, in the purlieus of the court town and its port (formest
riverine Malay negeri were of this kind), there did exist a state Mufti
(or Syaykh ul-Islam) acting as judge in a Shari'a court primarily concerned
with personal law; and probably also a Hakim, presiding over a criminal
court in which a mixture of Islamic and customary law was applied. The
writ of neither functionary ran very far, and little interference with village
Islam was attempted or achieved,. This remained, as I have said, the pos-
session of the peasantry and the rural elite. It is of course true that on
occasion, and usually for short periods of time, it was possible for a single
charismatic or politically powerful individual to mobilize substantial and
widespread peasant Malay Islamic following, in the interests of religious
intensification or response to oppression or outside interference. The latter is,
indeed, one of the now recognized patterns of peasant social history in
Islamic Southeast Asia. For the moment, however, I am concerned not with
these extraordinary occasions but with what one might call the day-to-day
'administration' of Islam at the local level.
Now, at the other end of the time scale — for convenience we may
say "today', though in my own work I am more directly concerned with an
intermediate point somewhere around the end of the Second World War —
the" picture is very different. At the apex of a precent elaborate and elabo-
rating system of religious authority that reaches down to the tiniest hamlet,
there is the recently created (1970) National Council for Islamic Affairs
(Majlis Kebangsaan bagi Hal Ehwal Ugama Islam), among whose tasks, as
laid down, is movement towards the unification of a substantial body of
exis'ing statutory Islamic law throughout the Malay states ; the working
out of national policies concerning religious education ; deliberation
concerning the proper disbursements of the baiance of zakat payments after
cancnically enjoined requirements have been met ; the declaration of uni-
form dates for beginning and ending the fasting month ; and much else
besides. Though this body has in the main purely advisory powers, its
potential is clearly much greater.
Below the National Council — or perhaps, more properly, separate
from it — are the State Councils of Religious Affairs, which exist (in slightly
varying forms) in each of the nine states ruled by Sultans. Though of
varying dates of foundation (the oldest was formed in 1915), these have
enormous power over the administration of Islam within their states.
Appointed in each case by the Sultan, in whose hands constitutional Islamic
authority rests, and consisting of both al'm and non-alim members, they
discharge functions as various as the promulgation of Fatwa (through sub-
committees known as the Council of Ulama), the organization of the collec-
tion and canonical disbursement of zakat and zakat al-fitr (amounting for
peninsular Malay as a whole to something like M $ 8 million a year) ;

67
 WILLIAM R. R O P P

compulsory certification of all teachers of religion (which includes overyone

teaching, however informally, to other than members of his immediate
family); appointment of all Islamic judicial officials from kathi downwards;
control of wakaf or religious endowments; oversight of all village surau
and their officers ; and the giving of advice to state governments on all
legislation affecting Islam, from the sumptuary to the regulation of divorce
and plural marriage. They constitute, in short, enormously powerful
bureaucratic institutions, in which authority once exercised at the level of
the village by figures perhaps not completely charismatic but nevertheless
possessing real claim to personal, exemplary qualities not accessible to the
ordinary individual has passed to bureaucratically staffed central organs
which have accreted to themselves institutionalized control over all public
aspects of Islamic life.
There, then we have our beginning point in time and our end point
in time. The task of the historian is to find ways of analyzing and under-
standing the processes by which this social change — or complex of social
changes — has taken place. I have described the process in general, in
the title of this paper, as the institutionalization of Islam in Malaya —
though even as a non-sociologist I am not altogether happy about the
appositeness of this term, and others may be even less so. Borrowing,
however, and however ineptly, from that discipline, it seems to me that one
might (before I discuss concrete instances) distinguish between three forms
of institutionalization — always allowing that we are not starting from
Weberian scratch, with the decay of pristine charismatic authority after the
death of revelation, but coming in at some more or less intermediate point
in the process. These three forms seem to me to be : (1) structural institu-
tionalization; (2) cultic institutionalization, in relation to worship and other
ritual acts; and (3) doctrinal institutionalization. I shall have more to say
about the first of these than about the second two.
Under structural institutionalization I would place especially the
process by which the loosely, indeed nominally, structured system of village
mukim surau, with their imam, has been brought by degrees in each state
under the control of a central religious body, in which there are elaborated a
stable set of statutes and roles defined in terms of bureaucratic function
with entailed duties and rewards. In the specific case of Kelantan, for
example, legislation was introduced after 1910 which established a structure
of offices (ultimately institutionalized in the State Religious Council set
up in 1915) which provided for the appointment of pemereksa agama
{religious inspectors), whose task it was to tour the mukim of the state
making sure that Friday prayers and basic religious teaching (the fardhu
'ain) were being properly observed; of 'demarcators of mukim surau boun-
daries', with responsibility for looking into the frequent territoral and consti-
tuency conflicts between one surau and imam and another (thus bearing
directly on the stuff of rural politics); and travelling religious teachers who
to some extent took out of the hands of village imam the role of educators
of the young. This bureaucratic establishment (which rapidly came to

68
 THE INSTITUTIONALIZATION OF ISLAM

include many other kinds of official) was paid for partly out of slate
funds but also from what was at the time called the Muhammadan Religious
Fund, made up largely of Shari'a court fines; and the establihment was
overseen, initially, by the state Mufti, who thus became an administrator
and was put for the first time into the state payroll establishment. As this
latter functionary became increasingly powerful, however (for, it might be
observed, whoever controlled the village imam and village Islam controlled
the state), his functions were put into committee, with the creation in 1915
of the Sultan - appointed State Religious Council, in which no one person
dominated. Under the terms of reference of this council, in turn, organi-
zational institutionalization proceeded apace, machinery and officials being
set up to establish and run council madrasah (religious schools); the
judicial bureaucracy being extended to provide for district kathi's courts
outside the capital, with salaried kathi; and much of this activity being
funded out of a new source of revenue (for purposes of this kind) — the
organized collection from village imam of 'two-fifths of the total amount
of zakat and zakat al-jitr surrendered to them annually by their parishioners.
Although Kelantan was the first state to create such an all-embracing
organization, and totalize what was known as 'the Sultan's share' of zakat
(previously applied mainly to the upkeep of the state's three central
mosques), it was followed in due course by others. In Pahang, a central
'Kuranic Instruction Committee' set up in the early 1920s was expanded
into a Majtis Ugama on the Kelantan pattern, based on zakat cohection.
Treiigranu formed a Department of Religion within the apparatus of the
state government itself in the 1920s and Seiangor and Perak, though lacking
any single body prior to the Second World War, increasingly directed Islamic
affairs through Malay-member sub-committees of the colonial-sponsored
State Council. In all cases, the process of structural institutionalization
described (and again, this may readily be documented by, for example,
Kelantan), was much facilitated by on the one hand a contemporaneous
improvement, for other ends, of communications, principally road and rail;
and on the other by a changing rural economy with a stable cash base, which
allowed the commutation of the padi and beras (husked rice) in which
zakat and jitr had customarily been paid into money that could be sur-
rendered to the centre.
Where cultic institutionalization is concerned. I am less sure of the
analytical apropriateness of the term, especially as it seems at times to
overlap conceptually with doctrinal institutionalization. Perhaps, indeed,
these categories are not wholly appropriate, and I should welcome comment
on this. It is true that ritual worship in Malay Islam — to which, of
course, prayer (salat), and more especially Friday congregational prayer,
was central — was already well institutionalized in form at the beginning
of the period with which I am concerned, and did not differ in any impor-
tant respect from that in other Muslim communities. It is however very
marked tliat along with (and assisted by) the structural institutionalization
of the kind to which I have been referring went a new emphasis on (a)
regularity of attendance at Friday prayers (with fines for those failing to

69
 WILLIAM R. ROFP

attend without adequate excuse, first to the imam and then through him
to the visiting inspectors of religion), and (b) on compulsion to attend at
one's defined local surau and not at a neighbouring oae. In the 1880s in
Selangor attendance requirements were, indeed, the first measures con-
cerning Islam to go on the statute book. In similar ways, public observation!
of the en joinder s related to the fasting month early became a matter for
substantive legislative provision, institutionalizing what had previously been
a matter for personal, or at most local, determination under the shari'a.
Correspondingly, perhaps, just as most of the Malay state religious establish-
ments in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries paid special
attention to these aspects of the cult, so was considerable attention paid
to the cleansing of ritual practice from impurities associated with Malay
'custom' (adat) on the one hand, and of the alleged excesses of the Sufi
tarekat (the rather florid Naqsyabandiyya being prominent in Malaya at
this time) on the other. In all cases, the bureaucratic apparatus or organized
Islam was used to pursue renovation of practice and dispel bida'ah, or
innovation. In passing it may be remarked that it is not possible to make
any simple correlation between the state religious establishments and the
kaum tua - kaum muda (old and new faction) disputes of the time.
Though the functionaries of the Islamic bureaucracy were often drawn
among the kaum tua, it was also the case that, as with the urban-based
kaum muda whom they often castigated, they had 'reform' interests at
heart.
Finally, doctrinal institutionalization. Here again I should like to
turn to early twentieth century Kelantan, where, over a period of a decade
or so from about 1910, there may be observed increasing institutionalized
control (culminating in that exercised by the State Religious Council over
the intellectual or doctrinal content of Islam, through the publication of a
set of officially approved elementary text-books on, for example, adab and
tauhid for the use of local teachers; central examination and certification of
those teachers engaged to give religious instruction in secular government
schools; prohibition of all teachings not approved by the Council (two cases
here come to mind, one of a Syaykh Hassan al-Azahari who was
expelled from the state in 1919 for Sufistic teaching; the other of an
'Afghani' who taught fiqh from a comparative madzhab standpoint, Malay
Muslims being Shafi'e); and the publication of fatwa enunciated by the
Council of Ulama in a journal created at least partly for this purpose. At
the same time, moral laxity within the umat (exacerbated by the increasing
presence within the state of Chinese, Indians and Europeans) was attacked
by means of statute law intended to curb prostitution and adultery, the
consorting with members of the opposite sex not prohibited in marriage,
intoxication, gambling and the like — the statute law, it being held, giving
expression to the shari'a itself.
Other states, at different times during the same period, adopted
similar measures directed towards central control of the doctrinal content
of Islam and its expression in public (or indeed private) behaviour. Clearly,
such control was not always readily acceptable, and there is some evidence

70
 THE INSTITUTIONALIZATION OF ISLAM

that both cultic and doctrinal institutionalization, and their accompanying

routinization and bureaucratization, actually encouraged the growth of
'extra-establishment' institutions which, while perhaps not coming into
direct conflict with authority, offered an alternative. The continued strength
oi the independent pondok schools in both Kelantan and Kedah before the
war (and even more recently), and of the To' Guru associated with them,
perhaps reflect to some extent a reaction against the 'discredited' or
establishment ulama (imam and others) associated with central religious
authority.
Clearly, it is possible to be a great deal more exact about the
detail of the three forms of institutionalization I have outlined as in fact I
have in a lengthy paper on Kelantan published recently. The point I wish
to make here, however, is that in the course of the first several
decades of this century there did occur in all the peninsular Malay states
a complex process, or set of interrelated processes, of institutionalization of
religion which effectively removed the governance of Islam, and in many
respects definition of its nature and content, from the village to the centre.
As with all forms of religious institutionalization, the process was accom-
panied by the creation of a class or group of religious functionaries — the
members of the state religious councils, the kathi and their legal bureaucra-
cies, the inspectors of religion (and more recently penecegah ma'asiat, or
extirpators of vice), the administrators of zakat collection and disbursement
and of wakaf, the council-certificated teachers of religion, and others,
who, possessing the status and power accruing to their offices, became part
of the ruling and dominant classes in society. To some degree, this group
may be discussed like other bureaucracies — as a group with a vested
interest in its own continuance and growth, and desirous of controlling its
own mode of recruitment. In addition, however, it seems to me to be of
importance to note that the position of the group in modern Malaya,
relative to competing groups and classes, has often been an ambigious one,
but one that must be taken into consideration in any analysis of modern —
and modernizing — Malay society. Crucial to this is the relationship between
the new 'establishment ulama' and their own patrons and creators. For the
institutionalization of Islam in the Malay states was essentially dependent
upon the traditional, if infrequently mobilized, nexus between 'secular'
rulers — the Sultan — and the defence of the faith. I have argued elsewhere
that the growth of the religious bureaucracies was very much the product
of the deprivation of political power resulting from colonial rule, which
left the traditional ruling class — by treaty definition and largely in prac-
left the traditional ruling class — by treaty definition and largely in prac-
tice — with authority over only 'Malay custom and religion'. Similarly great
in the maintenance of the traditional ruling class itself.

71
 WILLIAM R. ROFF

Whether or not this is the case however — and I am not unaware

of its more controversial implications — I am principally interested at the
moment in gaining your comments on how the historian can best come to
grips with the processes of institutionalization as such. How, in other
words, does one begin to understand what I would describe as the Islamic
sosiological revolution that took place in the Malay states between 1870
and 1970?

"

72
 A GENERAL THEORY OF THE ISLAMIZATION
OF THE MALAY - INDONESIAN ARCHIPELAGO *
SYED NAGUIB AL-ATTAS
UNIVERSITY OF MALAYA

I. Preliminary remarks
The title of this paper indicates that the subject is to be treated
at length and in great detail. Such a work is in fact in preparation and
what follows is merely a skeleton outline. Within the scope and time-limit
ot this Conference, it is possible and necessary only to present such an
outline here. It is found unnecessary, however, to demonstrate here the
validity of some very important assertions by adducing detailed supporting
materials, since 'that is being done elsewhere within its proper scope and
perspective. An earlier paper which I had written1 may be regarded as a
part of this paragraph on preliminary remarks. A concise chronological
order of historical events pertaining to the coming of Islam to the Malay-
Indonesian Archipelago, which ought to form part of this paragraph, but
which forms merely a small part of 'the history of Islam in the Archipelago
and its historical and cultural role in the life of the Malay-Indonesian
peoples, is given in my article on Islamic history in the new edition of
the Encyclopaedia of Islam under the article "Indonesia."
The method of hypothesis and formulation of a theory that I have
adopted in my research on the subject emulates 'that of Socrates which
Plato developed in his Phaedo. An example of a result of this theoretical
methodology is my recently published work on the origin of the Malay
sha'ir. 2
The general theory of the Islamization of the Malay-Indonesian
Archipelago is based chiefly on the history of ideas as seen through the
changing concepts of key terms in the Malay language in the 16th and
17th centuries. Primary source materials used have all been of a literary
nature in the fields of religious law and jurisprudence (shari'ah and fiqh),
philosophy or rational theology and metaphysics ('Urn al-kalam and ta-
sawwuf). Almost all the evidence for the formulation of this general theory
has been used on these primary literary sources chiefly in the Malay
language. Apart from critical commentative interpretation of the texts, I
have also employed the methodological concepts and approach of modern
semantic analysis. The study of ideas and change of ideas bearing upon the
Malay-Indonesian Weltanschauung has never to my knowledge been under-
taken in the context of a general theory such as the one outlined here.

* Paper presented at the IVth IAHA Conference, Kuala Lumpur, 1968.

i "Islamic culture in Malaysia", The Cultural Problems of Malaysia in the
context of Southeast Asia, ed. by S. Takdir Alisjahbana (et al), Kuala
Lumpur, Malaysia Society of Orientalists (1966), pp. 123-30.
2 The origin of the Malay sha'ir, Kuala Lumpur, Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka,
1968. For a concise formulation of this method of hypothesis, see p. 42.

73
 SYEDNAGUIB AL-ATTAS

r TO
II. General observations
Much of the history of Islam and its role in the Archipelago has
yet to be written. Due to the lack of data on the precise dates of the
introduction of Islam into the Archipelago, some of the dates traditionally
given could very well be put back. Several theories on 'the introduction
and expansion of Islam in the Archipelago, and the ways and means by
which it was spread, have been advanced. There have also been some
attempts made at presenting a cultural evaluation of Islam in the history
of the Malay-Indonesian peoples. The various main theories each emphasizes
singly the dominant role of
(i) trade in conveying Islam 'to the Archipelago ;
(ii) traders, officials connected with trade, among whom was the Shah-
bandar, and intermarriages in spreading Islam and effecting conversion
among the people ;
(iii) competition among Muslims and Christians, accelerating the spread
of Islam, particularly between the 9th/15th and llth/17th centuries
— this is conceived as a continuation of the crusade between Islam
and Christianity ;
(iv) political conveniences as being the motive for conversion to Islam ;
(v) Islam's ideological worth as being the main factor of conversion ; and of
(vi) the influence of Sufism and its tariqahs — the notion of autochthony,
however, is here emphasized.
Suggestions have been made that the above theories 'taken collectively
could be conceived as the basis for a general theory of Islam in the Ar-
chipelago. However, almost all these theories and elaborations pertaining
to them cannot strictly speaking be considered as having achieved the
scientific rank of theory, or even in some cases that, of hypothesis, and
most of them have been critically demonstrated as untenable while others
are simply guesswork and statements on what was already obvious.
Most of 'the scholars who have been influential in setting forth these
theories have been ardent admirers and scholars of Javanese culture and
civilization. Having been entranced by that culture and civilization, they
have apparently proceeded to elevate it above all else in the Archipelago,
making it a standard and criterion for the consideration of Malay culture
and civilization. Enthralled perhaps by the wayang, it would seem that they
saw history as if it were an operatic gamelan incessantly repeating the old
theme. They speak of the indigenous quality and character of what to them
only appears historically to be important cultural influences of Hinduism,
Buddhism and Islam: that some of the most important culture values,
characteristic world views, conceptions of being that Hinduism, Buddhism
and Islam impressed upon the Malay-Javanese civilization were already
present in that civilization — autochthonous; that only the outward form,
the name, is assumed; the spirit, the essence, the character remains the
same, impervious to alien innovations, inscrutable and mysterious. The
'autochthonous theory' has indeed affected a great number of influential

74
 A GENERAL THEORY OF THE ISLAMISATION

scholars and historians in their view of Malay-Indonesian history which

has in turn affected the problem of historical periodization. While I agree
that Hinduism and Buddhism — on which greater accumulation of data
and more intensive study have been accomplished by the orientalist scholars
of the Archipelago than 'that of Islam — might not have had much effect
in changing the essential character and world-view of the Malay-Javanese
civilization, 'the same view cannot be applied with regard to Islam. The
differences between the spirit of the former religions and that of Islam.
their places of origin, their religious mediums, their initial and significant
influences — on the Javanese civilization, in the case of the former and
the Malay in the case of the latter — are so considerable that to entertain
such a view would be highly fallacious. The following are general sum-
maries of only some of the main points of differences :
(a) Hinduism is not a Semitic religion based upon an uncompro-
mising monotheism charged with a missionary spirit. It is true that the
metaphysical formulations of Semitic monotheism become almost identical
with those of Hinduism at certain levels, yet they are generally conceived
by their respective adherents as considerably dissimilar. The several formu-
lations of Hinduism — even in its country of origin— have been prepon-
derently of an aesthetic nature. One of the main reasons for what is stated
here is stated in (b) below. The scientific formulations of the metaphysical
doctrines of the religion cannot be said to be generally recognized and
accepted. By nature the Javanese civilization was more aesthetic than
scientific. The scientific part of Hindu philosophy and metaphysics was
ignored in favour of what was more congenial to the autochthonous world-
view. It was aesthetic and ritualistic Hinduism that was recognized and
accepted; the scientific, with its emphasis on the rational and intellectual
elements and on systematic and logical analysis, was rejected — and even
when accepted had first to be sifted through the sieve of art so that the
world-view presented was that envisioned by poets rather than by thinkers
and philosophers.
(b) Hinduism is couched in symbolic forms that are aesthetic and
anthropomorphic, no doubt in large measure due to the influence of the
language which forms its medium of expression. The same conclusions may
be drawn with respect to the old Javanese language. There has been fur-
thermore, a preference for poetry rather than prose in the languages of
the two civilizations, Indian and Javanese.
(c) Unlike Islam, both Hinduism and Buddhism came from the
same stock and the same place. There is, moreover, a 'tendency towards
insulation of the latter religions within Asia only, while the former tends
to spread internationally.
(d) The essential religious spirit of Islam is monotheistic, couched
in its unique conception of 'the Unity of God (al-tawhid). Conceived
philosophically through rational theology and metaphysics ('Urn al-kalam
and tasawwuf), it sets forth an ontology, cosmology and psychology of its
own in its conception of the Oneness of Being (Wahdat al-wujud). This
75
 SYED NAGUIB A L - A T T A S

ontology, cosmology and psychology is not to be equated simply with that

of Neo-Platonism and Hinduism according to the Vedänta, as it in general
has its foundations in the Qur'an whose uniqueness has impressed itself
upon every facet of Muslim life.
(e) The Qur'an came together with Islam to the Malay-Indonesian
Archipelago. No comparable event occurred in pre-Islamic times to match
that of the impact and influence of the Qur'an, as no complete holy
scripture ever seems to have existed in the past. The Quranic conception
of man as a rational animal, capable by means of his reason or intelligence
('aql) of understanding and appreciating the signs (ayat) that point to God
is made all the more significant in respect of the future development of
the Malay language by 'the emphasis laid on the meaning of 'rational' as
the capacity to speak — the emphasis on the faculty of speech. Now, it
is not just the capacity to speak that is being emphasized as the rationality
in man but, more significant, the capacity to speak clearly; to employ
correct and unambiguous symbols and signs in interpreting experience and
reality. Indeed, perhaps no other holy book as so impressed upon man
the importance and uniqueness of language. The Qur'an alone claims clarity
(mubin) as being one of its most important chief virtues. It has chosen
Arabic to be its language because of the inherent scientific tendency towards
clarity in the structure of Arabic. The preference is for prose rather than
for poetry (shit), and even when poetry is used later in religious and
metaphysical topics and excellence is not considered merely from the point
of view of 'the science of prosody but, more important, from that of ex-
position of meaning, interpretation, and commentary achieved through sharh
(lit. from the root "to open" or "to interpret the true meaning"). A whole
science of Islamic prosody is evolved out of the Qur'an; it is also the sole
authority on Arabic and its grammar. Arabic is the language of Islam and
no language of any Muslim people, whether or not it has achieved a lofty
rank in civilization, is without the profound influence of Arabic. The Qur'an
also inaugurated among the Arabs themselves the tradition of a written
language, and wherever oral tradition was 'the literary tradition of a people,
it was the influence of the Qur'an that, having effected conversion 'to Islam,
brought about the transition to a written literary tradition. All the Muslim
peoples adopted the Arabic script, creating wherever necessary new letters
to represent the phonetic peculiarities not found in Arabic but still basing
such letters on the Arabic script.

(f) From what has been stated above, it may be concluded that
Islam, as opposed to Hinduism and Buddhism, is a scientific and literary
culture. Added to this is the fact that it was Islam that first brought the
Malay-Indonesian Archipelago in contact with 'western' rationalistic thinking
in the form of Greek philosophy represented chiefly by the ideas of Plato,
Aristotle, and Plotinus.
From what has been stated in connection with Islam as being a
scientific and literary culture, stressing an acceptance of a unique con-
ception of Being by means of language, it is therefore manifestly erroneous

76
 A GENERAL THEORY O F THE ISLAMIZATION

for scholars and historians in the past to look for 'the revolutionary changes
brought about by Islam in the Malay-Indonesian Archipelago merely at
easily perceptible 'external' historical phenomena such as trade, and shifts
in economic and political power, and in art and such external forms of
religious manifestation. It is not merely by gazing at 'the volume of trade,
international or otherwise, the development of economic and political in-
stitutions alone, the Menduts, Prambanans and Borobudurs that they will
discover that they seek — if 'they seek that — for as far as Islam in the
Archipelago is concerned they have looked at the least reliable historical
evidence. They ought to have looked at the language of the Malay-Indo-
nesian Archipelago, which turned out to be the Islamized Malay language,
for it would be there that the revolutionary changes in world-view effecting
other changes would be preserved and reflected; for language is the silent
yet ever present living witness whose words and vocabulary still hold captive
the thoughts and feelings of centuries. It is equally erroneous to magnify
Java and the Javanese civilization; to cause it, by comparison with the
Malay-Indonesian civilization, to be the object of exclusive and reverent
study; to cast one's gaze always at enchanting India even when seeking
the answer to the provenance of Islam in the Archipelago.
But one can understand why, perhaps, this has been so. The in-
fluential scholars and historians who have been treating the subject have
themselves been the product and representatives of a civilization and culture,
of a world-view that has been and still is iin considerable measure firmly
rooted in aesthetic values. Religion in Western culture has always been
conveyed through the medium of art. Rational theology and philosophical
speculations on God were initiated later after greater acquaintance with
Greek philosophy became possible through the paradoxically significant
contact with Islam. Even then, religion remained in the firm embrace of
art, as it does now. Philosophy and science divorced themselves from
religion, though not from art, disenchanted from its lack of certainty. The
introduction of Christianity to Europe, just as that of Hinduism and Bud-
dhism to the Archipelago, has never been followed by a rationalistic
clarification of the conception of Being. This task as far as Christianity
was concerned, was left to philosophy which reduced religion to a mere
theory, and even then it occurred in comparatively recent times. Indeed,
it can be said, perhaps without exaggeration, that the very nature of the
problem which lay within the inmost ground of Western culture has its
roots in the frustrations in early Christian theological polemics and disputes
which in turn gave rise to all manner of "developments" in philosophy,
in science, in humanism, and in what is considered today as "modern".
Finally, another important and relevant general observation is what
appears to be an historical accident, a coincidence in the 'choice' of the
Malay language as the language of Islam in the Archipelago. It appears
to me that the occurrence might not necessarily have been entirely coinci-
dental and this because of several striking though not quite similar parallels
between 'the vicissitudes of Arabic and Malay after the impact of Islam
and before — enough indeed to have made the Arabs themselves feel that

77
 SYED NAGUIB A L - A T T A S

Malay would have been the 'natural choice' within the Archipelago, with
which they had been acquainted since pre-Islamic times. Like the Arabic
language in Jahili times, Malay was not an aesthetic religious language.
Although we know that pre-Islamic Arabic was highly developed in folklore
in the oral tradition, particularly in poetry, we know practically nothing
about Old Malay except perhaps that in folklore it was also in the oral
tradition. Malay was used as a lingua franca in a limited sense in trade in
relevant parts of the Archipelago only. The Malay society, as opposed to
the Javanese seems, like Meccan Arab society before Islam, a mercantile
one. Pre-Islamic Arabic, not being an aesthetic religious language, whose
vocabulary is generally enriched or emburdened as the case may be by
the sophisticated and inevitably confusing mythological, mystical, metaphy-
sical and philosophical vocabularies, was comparatively 'pure' and unsophis-
ticated as far as the purpose of Islam was concerned in relation to the
Graeco-Roman and Irano-Persian languages that held sway in the
neighbouring regions. The Qur'an, when it came upon the Arabs, extolling
clarity and intelligence, declares itself to be in 'plain' and 'not devious'
Arabic. By relative comparison, as far as aesthetic religion was concerned,
the relationship between Arabic on the one hand and the Graeco-Roman
and Irano-Persian languages on the other, was like Malay and Old Ja-
vanese, the latter being the dominant aesthetic literary and religious language
of the Archipelago. Semantically, Old Javanese would have been less
susceptible than Malay of recognizing and accepting the Quranic teachings,
since its understanding of them would have been more clouded or confused
by the existing and firmly rooted concepts and ideas in its aesthetic reli-
gious vocabulary. Indeed, this was what actually happened with the problem
of Islam in Java : the notion, now still popular among scholars on 'Javanese
Islam', about the so-called 'conflict' between 'Javanism' and Islam, the
alleged 'rejections' on the 'encroachment' of Islam on the Javanese religion
is, in my opinion, exaggerated; what occurred in most important and re-
levant cases was more indicative of an attempt at clarification of Islam
on the one hand and difficulty in recognizing and understanding the
clarification on the other, precisely due mainly to the 'opaque' and 'semi-
transparent' connotations imposed by the Javanese language. For this
reason also, the Muslims resorted to making use of the aesthetic Hindu-
Javanese religious vocabulary in explaining Islam to the Javanese. One
must recognize such a method of explanation as being another aspect of
the ingenious missionary tactics the Muslims have employed in Java, ex-
celling by far their use of the wayang for similar purpose. The same con-
clusion could also be drawn in explanation of the continued preference for
poetry in Javanese-Islamic literature rather than prose. Much of Old Malay
folklore might also have been influenced by the hegemony of Old Javanese
in the latter's preference for poetry, but when Malay became 'the Islamic
language of the Archipelago, prose predominated in most aspects of its
literature. In poetry, the sha'ir is perhaps the only enduring and popular
Arabic legacy, though even in this domain, the prose commentary invariably
forms an integral and most important part — another succinct emphasis
on clarification almost never applied in Old Javanese.

78
 A GENERAL THEORY OF THE ISLAMIZATION

III. Summary of essential factual data and theoretical propositions.

1. The well-known theory that Islam came from India and was
conveyed to the Archipelago by 'Indians' cannot be accepted. This theory
seems to have been formulated to fit into the 'autochthonous theory' men-
tioned earlier. What is meant by 'Islam' itself has never been clearly ex-
plained in the context of the above theory whose foundations seem to have
been based upon observations of merely the 'external' characteristics of
Islam as revealed according to particular traits of the various Muslim
peoples, according to trade patterns, according to past experiences with
Hinduism and Buddhism. However, what is more important in this respect
should have been observations of the 'internal' characteristics of Islam as
a religion, for Islam is always understood by the Muslims themselves in
this sense. Roughly from the 10th/17th century backwards, all the major
relevant (religious) literary evidence studied did not record a single Indian
author or work of Indian origin. Any author described as 'Indian' or work
as of 'Indian origin' by Western scholars turned out to be actually Arab
or Persian, and most of what has been described as Persian has in fact
been Arabian, whether considered ethnically or culturally. The early
missionaries too, from what is known of their names and titles, have been
Arab or Arab-Persian. It is true that some came via India, but some also
came direct from Arabia or via Persia, and from there via China. It is
tiue that some works were written in India, but their origin is Arabia and
Persia; or they could even be, in comparatively small measure, Turkey
or the Maghrib and, what is more important, their religious content is
Middle Eastern not Indian. From the point of view of Muslims, it is not
important who ethnically brought Islam where, so long as what is brought
is Islam. But from the point of view of historians, it is necessary to be
accurate, since such conclusions would affect historical theoretical formu-
lations. It is more important and accurate to say, for example, that lbn
Rushd and lbn al-'Arabi were Arabs rather than Spaniards, and that their
works represent Arabian-Islamic (including even Greek) thought rather than
Spanish. Most of the early mossionaries were sayyids, many from the I
Hadramawt, and the later missionaries of Islam in the Archipelago were 1
the Malays themselves and the Javanese and other indigenous peoples. It
is not intended to mean by this that there were absolutely no Indians proper
involved, but to bring into proper perspective a more accurate picture of
the provenance of Islam in the Archipelago on which subject the role of
India and Indians have been unduly magnified.

2. Another vague and misleading notion entertained by Western

scholars is what constituted Muslim 'missionary activity'. This has neither
been clearly explained in their writings nor, from what is implied there,
understood. Under the dominating influence of their own religious history,
they have erroneously expected to find clearly defined organization of
missionary activity. In all other great religions, including their own, the
organisations of missionary activity is clearly defined because the monopoly
of religious knowledge and spiritual power lay in the hands of the clergy
or priestly organization. They know that Islam is the only great religion

79
 BYED NAGUIB AL-ATTAS

that has no such clergy or priestly organization; that every Muslim is ex-
pected to know the essentials of his own faith and that he is potentially
a missionary of Islam, charged with that duty whenever possible, each ac-
cording to his own capacity. They should not, therefore, have expected
to find the clearly defined organisation of missionary activity they seek
at work during the process of Islamization of the Archipelago. Muslim
missionary activity was carried out at different levels, according to different
methods, coming from different directions, with different peculiar techniques,
depending upon the different cultural traits of peoples they strove to convert.
Perhaps the only identical essential content of Muslim missionary activity
throughout consisted in the persistent preaching of the unique conception
of the Unity of God (Allah) as revealed in His Revelations embodied in
the Qur'an through His last Prophet Muhammad, and the unity of the
Law (shari'ah). These different levels in which Islam was conveyed accor-
ding to the different spiritual and intellectual capacities of the various
missionaries were gradually, 'standardized', as it were, 3 by the saints or
walis and sups, the scholars and the learned doctors of rational theology
('ulama) and of jurisprudence (fuqaha) and their disciples (murid) among
the missionaries who in structural pattern somewhat similar to the schema
traced in genealogical tables (sing, silsilah) transmitted and clarified the
teachings to their disciples and followers right down to and among the
masses of the people. The means by which the missionary activity was
conducted was primarily the usual verbal exposition of the essential
doctrines; exemplary devotional practice; written expositions on religious
law, on philosophical mysticism (tasawwuf) and works of such nature and
these various means were conducted by individuals and by institutions such
as the Sufi Orders or tariqahs, the schools and colleges or madrasahs and
other probably indigenous (Javanese) institutions made use of by the Mus-
lims for their purpose, such as the pasantrens and pondoks. 4 Indeed, the
pondoks and tariqahs in the Malay Peninsula, whose conversion is little
known, reveal traces of Javanese missionary activity in their use of such
institutions. The method of payment due to the master of the pondok known
in Malaya, for example, seems to be patterned on that known in the
Moluccas in the 9th/16th century when the Javanese missionaries spread
Islam among the Ambonese, except that in Malaya the most valued product
like padi is used as payment as cloves was in Ambon. Finally, there seems
to have been, as far as the Archipelago is concerned, a final 'corrective
phase' following the 'standradization' just mentioned during which phase
tasawwuf played the dominant role and 'this 'final corrective phase' con-
stituted the consolidation of Islam which in Sumatra (and perhaps the
Malay speaking peoples) became apparent in the 10th/17th century and
in Java in the 12th/ 19th century.

8 This process of 'standardization' is in a sense conceived also as the intensi-

fication of the process of Islamization. See p. 83 below.
< Pasantren refers to a place where santria or pious and religiously learned
people gather, some what akin to college ; pondok means 'hut' : the reference
here is to a school consisting of huts, clustered together where pupils live
and work under the direction of the teacher.

St»
 A GENERAL THEORY OF THE ISLAMIZATION

3. Witli respect to ideas on the development of the Malay language

and literature, a new formulation is necessary, it seems to me, as it forms
a coherent, integral part of the general theory of the Islamization of the
Archipelago here outlined in brief. With the introduction of Islam amongst
the Malays, and the conversion of the Malay kingdoms, the Arabic alphabet
and script were introduced and adopted. Based on the Arabic letters :
jim ( <S ) , 'W i ts > fas < ^ ),*«/( ^ ).
and nun { js ) , five new letters were gradually created to represent
the sounds : cha ( £ ), nga ( £ / ), pa ( ^ ) , S<*
5
( & ), and nya ( & ) respectively. The Malay language
underwent a revolutionary change; apart from enrichment of a great part
of its vocabulary by a large number of Arabic and Persian words, it became
the chief medium for conveying Islam throughout the Archipelago so that
by the 9th/16th century, at the latest, it had achieved the status of a
literary and religious language displacing the hegemony of Javanese. So
widely was the language spread by Islam that it is now the official language
ol over 100 million people, perhaps the largest Muslim language. The
spread, development and flowering of the Malay language was due to the
cultural impact of Islam with its own unique emphasis on literary culture,
as 1 have pointed out in II (e) and (f) above. Malay literature flourished
— and there are reasons to believe that it even originated — in the Is-
lamic period. The 9th/16th and 10th/17th centuries witnessed the unri-
valled prolificness of Malay writing on philosophical mysticism and rational
theory. The first Malay translation of the Qur'an with commentary based
on al-Baydawi's famous Commentary, and translations, commentaries and
original works on philosophical mysticism and rational theology also ap-
peared during this period which marked the rise of rationalism and intel-
lectualism not manifested anywhere before in the Archipelago. Correspon-
ding to what I have outlined as Phase II of the Islamization process,6
this period was significant in setting in motion the process of revolutionizing
the Malay-Indonesian Weltanschauung effecting its transformation from an
aesthetic to a scientific one. The underlying factor in this cultural revolution
was the clarification of a new conception of Being introduced by Islam.
It is the correct comprehension of this new conception of Being that con-
stituted the inner intensification of the Islamization process. The Malay
language, it seems to me, developed into a new stream as a result of its
being employed as the vehicle for philosophical discourse in the Archipelago.

B The letter representing cha ( gj. ) is called jimi farsi or jimi 'ajami, i.e.
the Persian jim; the letter representing ga ( j£ ) is called kafi farsi
or kafi 'ajami, i.e. the Persian kaf. The letter representing nga ( £, )
pa ( ,J9 ), and nya ( c*> ) are indigenous inventions in accordance
with the phonetic lawB of the indigenous language (s).
e See below, pp. 82-83.

81
 SYED NAGUIB A L - A T T A S

This new stream, probably originating in Barus, had its centre in Pasai
(later Acheh), the earliest centre of Islamic learning in the Archipelago,
whence its influence spread throughout the Archipelago. The new stream
is characterized by its terse, clear style, its Islamic vocabulary; it reveals
a language of logical reasoning and scientific analysis very much influenced
no doubt by its writers — Sufis, scholars, translators, and commentators —
who were themselves under the sway of the Qur'an which, as I have
already pointed out, extolls clarity and intelligence in speech and writing.
It is from this new stream 'that 'modern' Malay or the present-day Malay-
Indonesian language developed, since this was the stream that conveyed
and spread Islam in 'the Archipelago. The magnification of Peninsular
Malay as the 'paragon' of the Malay language is the fancy of Western
scholarship and the influence of Abdu'llah Munshi (c. 1211-71/1796-1854)
whom that scholarship sets up as 'the father of 'modern' Malay literature,
who in fact did emulate the style of the Malacca centred Sejarah Melayu.
The Malaccan Sejarah Melayu must in fact be considered the best literary
example of old court Malay — the earlier of the two streams of the Malay
language here conceived — whence flowed folklore, romance, epic and
quasi historical literature still reflecting traces of the old world view. The
Munshi must not be regarded as the father of modern Malay literature,
for he was in fact the last exponent of the dying 'Malaccan' style which
was gradually being displaced by the new stream pointed out above. Indeed,
quite significantly the Munshi had no followers to emulate his style. It
was, rather, Hamzah al-Fansuri (c. 9th/16th century) — the first man to
write intellectually systematic Malay on subjects of a highly rationalistic
order — who, I suggest, ought to be regarded as the true father of modern
Malay literature. The new stream in which Hamzah's influence is noticeable
emerged in the 9th"/16th — 10th/17th centuries. To 'this same period
must modern Malay historical writing be assigned (e.g. as manifested in
the historical writings of Nuru'1-iDin al-Ranliri (d. 1666) and not to the
12th/19th century as generally held (e.g. the first of such writing attributed
to Raja 'Ali Hajji (c. 1224-87/1809-70) by Western scholarship. There
has been a noticeable and significant tendency among Western scholars
to postdate important historic events such as the coming of Islam to the
various parts of the Archipelago and the 'modernization' of the Malay
language and literature — of the Malay-Indonesian world as a whole —
to coincide with the coming of the West and propagation and temporary
domination of Western culture here.
4 The process of Islamization underwent three phases.
Phase I : from approximately 579/1200-803/1400, jurisprudence or fiqh
played the major role of interpreting the religious law (shan'ah) in the
conversion of the Malays. The conversion was effected by strength of faith,
not necessarily accompanied by an understanding of the rational and in-
tellectual implications such conversion entailed. Fundamental concepts
connected with the central Islamic concept of Unity of God (tawhid) were
still vague in the minds of their old concepts overlapping and clouding
or confusing the new ones. This phase can well be described as the con-
version of the 'body'.

82
 A GENERAL THEORY OF THE ISLAMIZATION

Phase II : from approximately 803/1400-1112/1700, continuation of

the process described in Phase Î, but during this phase the major role of
interpreting the religious law had passed onto philosophical mysticism and
metaphysics (tasawwuf) and other rational and intellectual elements such
as rational theology (kalam). During this phase, Sufism and Sufi writings
primarily and the writings of the Mutakallimun played the dominant role
aimed at the conversion of the 'spirit'. Fundamental concepts introduced
according to the Islamic Weltanschauung, some of which were still under-
stood in the opaque sense, influenced by the old Weltanschauung, were
expounded and defined so that they were understood in both the transparent
and semi-transparent senses.
Phase III : from approximately 1112/1700 onwards, continuation of
Phase I and consummation of Phase II which had been largely successful.
To this phase must also be assigned the cultural influences brought about
by the coming of the West. What is generally known as 'Westernization'
is here conceived as the perpetuation of the rationalistic, individualistic
and internationalistic spirit whose philosophical foundations were laid
earlier by Islam.
5. The coming of Islam constituted the inauguration of a new
period in the history of the Malay-Indonesian Archipelago. The greatest
evidence of this cultural revolution manifested itself in expository and
polemical writings during the 8th/15th to 10th/ 17th centuries reflecting
the change of ideas in the world view of 'the people centred around a
different conception of Being from what they had known in the past. This
was also 'the 'clarification', 'intensification' and 'standardization' of Islam
followed by 'correction' to complete the change, as it were. Sufi metaphysics
did not come, contrary to what is generally held even by some Muslim
scholars, to harmonize Islam with traditional beliefs grounded in Hindu-
Buddhist beliefs and other autochthonous traditions; it came to clarify the
difference between Islam and what they had known in the past. Indeed,
the whole period from the testimony of the writings was devoted to
answering the ever increasingly persistent question and demand for clarifi-
cation of the nature of Being. The fact that the question was raised at
all revealed the existence of an inner problem experienced by the Malay-
Indonesians. No such polemics or raising of such questions were ever known
to have occurred before, as no such problem was encountered at the coming
of Hinduism and Buddhism.7 Major key terms represented by Malay
words having to do with God, Man, and the relationship between them
and the world, underwent examination, distinction and acceptance or rejec-
tion in relation 'to Arabic key terms and words philosophically analogous
to what happened to Arabic itself during the Translation Period when it
became the vehicle of Greek philosophy and was influenced by Greek
thought.
6. The spiritual revolution manifested in the 8th/15th - 10th/17th
centuries reflected the beginnings of the modern age in the Archipelago.
The concept 'modern' has nowhere, to my mind, been clarified when
' Cp. p. 75 (a) and (b) above.

83
 3YED NAGUIP AL-ATTAS

scholars apply it in the context of the Malay-Indonesian Archipelago or,

for 'that matter, of the Muslims as a whole. In Europe itself in the cultural
history of the Western Christian peoples, the concept 'modern' is traced
back to the rationalistic, individualistic and internationalistic spirit which
began to emerge in the 7th/14th century onwards. But, again, what con-
stitutes what is modern is very much dependent upon the religion. In
Western Christian cultural history, it was the very religion, as interpreted
by the Church, that gave rise to the attitude conceived as modern so that
the very meaning of the term is governed by Christian doctrines which
ultimately rest with the clergy. I have tried to convey this earlier 8 — that
it was conflict with and opposition to the teachings of the Church that
brought about the modern attitude; that is, rationalism, individualism and
internationalism which in the West has always been understood as humanism.
Clearly, such a concept cannot be applied to Muslims, for in Islam there
has always been neither 'Church' in the Western Christian sense nor clergy,
and the rationalism, individualism and internationalism understood by the
Muslims has always been in harmony, not conflict, with religion. The above
statements have profound implications embracing 'the distinct philosophical
and religious attitudes of Islam and the West (Christianity). It is not the
intention in the space and time limited, to initiate the necessary Dialogue
here, but it is important to state them here as they are of significant rele-
vance to the subject.
7. Finally, earlier on 1 pointed out that Western scholars seem to
postdate important historic events in the Archipelago after the coming of
Islam to coincide with Western presence.9 Schrieke, for example, went
to the extent of formulating the theory that Western Christians and Chris-
tianity made such a great impact in the Archipelago 'that paradoxically it
gave rise to the quickening momentum of the spread and establishment of
Islam in the Archipelago.10 This theory has so far not been satisfactorily
rejected, since its rejection has left unsolved the problem of the quickening
tempo of the spread of Islam between the 8th/15th and 10th/17th centuries.
As far as all the polemical works studied are concerned, there was not a
single polemical reference to Christianity. In fact, Islam did not regard
Christianity as a serious contender; furthermore, it is well known that it
was only in the 12th/19th century onwards that Christianity made any
impact at all in the Archipelago. The solution of the problem, then, is
that it is far more accurate perhaps, in the light of the present general
theory, to attribute the mysteriously accelerated momentum of the spread
of Islam to the intensification and standradization of Islam as outlined in
Phase II, 4, above.
,.
« Seo pp. 77-78 above.
» See p. 82, above.
10 sec p. 74, (iii), above.

SI
 RELIGIOUS MOVEMENTS OF JAVA IN
THE 19 TH AND 20 TH CENTURIES *
SARTONO KARTODIRDJO
GADJAH MADA UNIVERSITY

I. Preliminary Remarks.
Perhaps no historical phenomena have been so thoroughly neglected
in Indonesian historiography as rehgious movements. Their history remains
outside the file of systematic exploration and historical writing. It con-
stitutes a sector which is still dark, although such movements loomed
large in Java of the 19th and 20th centuries and archival documents
related to them would permit their being illuminated. This lacuna can
easily be explained since within the framework of colonial historiography,
which bears the stamp of conventional historical writing, religious move-
ments have not been considered a subject fit to be studied by historians.
Millennial or messianic ideology of religious movements have how-
ever, not lacked attention and there are a number of scattered studies
of it, textual and philological.1 In most of these cases ideological forms
have been considered to be at the heart of research. More stress is laid
upon structures of millenarian or messianic beliefs than upon patterns
of development of religious movements. It should be pointed out that
religious movements in Java have been looked upon mainly as manifes-
tations of the much - examined phenomenon of mysticism or suf;sm.a
Millennial - style religious movements have not been given the attention
they deserve in their own right. Here, perhaps, by accumulating details
of the many milennial movements in Indonesia in general and in Java in
particular, one of the great gaps in Indonesian histoy can be filled.
In advancing whatever pertinent knowledge I have acquired of some
religious upheavals of Java in the 19th and 20th centuries, I am con-

* Paper presented at the r v t h IAHA Conference, Kuala Lumpur, 1968.

i J.A.B. Wiselius, 'Djaja Baja, znn leven en profetieën', Bijdragen tot de Taal-,
Land- en Volkenkunde (BKI). XIX (1872), pp. 172-217; A.B. Cohen Stuart.
'Eroe Tjakra', BKI, XTX (1872), pp. 285-288; J. Brandes, 'Iets over een
ouderen Dipanegara in verband met een prototype van de voorspellingen van
Jayabaya', Tijdschrift voor Indische Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde (TBG),
XXXII (1889), pp. 268-430.
a D.A. Rinkes, Abdoerraoef van Singkel. Bijdrage tot de kennis van de mystiek
op Java en Sumatra, Heerenveen, 1909; B.J.O. Schrieke, Het boek van Bo-
nang, Utrecht, 1916; H. Kraemer, Een Javaansche primbon uit de Zestiende
Eeuw, Leiden, 1921; G.W.J. Drewes, Drie Javaansche Goeroe's. Hun Leven
Onderricht en Messias prediking, Leiden, 1925; B.M. Schuurmann, Mystiek
und Glaube in Zusammenhang mit der Mission auf Java, 's-Gravenhage, 1933;
P.J. Zoetmulder, Panthéisme en Monisme in de Javaansche Soeloek littera-
tuur, Nijmegen, 1935; C.A.O. Nieuwenhuyse, Samsu'ul-din van Pasai. Bijdrage
tot de kennis der Sumatraansche mystiek, Leiden, 1945.

85
 SARTONO KARTODIRDJO
i ITW*T~) HT 0 r ' CIW
strained to use the definitions and concepts that others have developed.
Religious movements with which we are concerned have been labelled in
a number of ways, namely as messianic, millenarian, nativistic, prophetic,
revitalization or revivalistic movements.3 The term 'religious movements'
has not always been used throughout with the same degree of precision
or with a great degree of conceptual rigour. Many social movements,
including riots, rebellions, sectarianism, may be classified as religious mo-
vements, since those phenomena generally tend to relate to movements which
are religiously inspired or which imply religious means in bringing about
their supernatural goals.4 Most of the upheavals no doubt had religious
overtones.5
The study of religious movements during the colonial period can
take advantage of ample source materials we inherit from colonial offi-
cials who were charged with missions of rigorous upheavals. For obvious
reasons there was much attention focused on dramatic-type movements ;
the millennial-style movements were a potential menace to the very foun-
dation of the colonial regime. This state of affairs has its dangers which
we must guard against: one is 'to assume that mliilennial-style movemnets
constituted the main style of religious movement, overlooking the fact that
the development of more peaceful movements was left umecorded ; the
other, to assume, that religious movements are a typical — if not
inherent — phenomenon in colonial society. ° In addition, it should be noticed
that colonial administrators' accounts of religious movements are often
distorted by ethnocentric prejudice and Islamo-phobia with the result that
there was a dispositional tendency to equate religious movements with
revolutionary, anti-foreign movements. To ass'gn every religious movement
a political, revolutionary character is, therefore, a fallacy.
For reasons of research strategy our line of inquiry will be confined
to some cases of millennial-style movements, describing their development
and seeking for generalization regarding their special features. The.e are
K For the term 'messianism' see W.D. Wallis, 'Quelques aspects de messianisme,
Archives des Sosiologie des Religious (ASR), V (1958), pp. 99-100; also G Ba-
landier 'Messianismes et nationalismes en Afrique Noire' Cahiers Interna-
tionaux de Sociologie, XIV (1953), pp. 41-65; for 'millenarism' see Norman
Cohn, 'Medieval Millenarism; its bearing on the Comparative Study of
Millenarian Movements' in Millennial Dreams in Action, Sylvia Thrupp, ed.,
The Hague, 1962; for 'nativism' see R. Linton, 'Nativistic Movements',
American Anthropologist, XLV (1943), pp. 230-240; for 'prophetic movements'
see Guarigha, Prophetismus und Heilserwartungs-Bewegungen als völkerkund-
liches und religionsgeschichtliches Problem, Horn-Wien, 1959; for 'revitali-
zation' see A . F . C . Wallace, 'Revitalization Movements', AA, LVITI (19591,
pp. 264-281; for 'revivalism' see P. Nash, 'The Place of Religious revivalism in
the Formation of the Intercultural Community on Klamath Reservation',
Social Anthropology of North American Tribes, Chicago, 1955, pp. 377-444.
4 For this definition see Bryan R. Wilson. 'Millennialism in Comparative Pers-
pective', Comparative Studies in Society and History (CSSH), VI (1963).
pp. 93-144.
5 See K.F. Holle in his missive of 20 August 1873, no. 126.
« See V. Lanternari, The Religions of the Oppressed, New York, 1963, P.
Worsley, The Trumpet shall sound, London, 1957; cf. G. Balandier, loc cit.

86
 RELIGIOUS MOVEMENTS OF JAVA

for example, aspects of their leadership patterns, their messianic,

millenarian and nativistic ideas, their ancestor worship, and their
belief in invulnerability. This study is not intended to examine causal
or conditional factors which brought about the rise of religious movements,
for the simple reason that our documentary evidence is quite 1 mi ed. The
deficiency in our knowledge of source materials prevents us devising an
analysis of historical situations in which religious movements arose or
devising a truly satisfactory scheme of causal explanation of those move-
ments. We have to put aside 'the problem of explanation including the
combination of all necessary predisposing factors which will lead to religious
upheavals. As an alternative, we have to trace our theme historically
through dissimilar regional communities and to compare its place in different
subcultural traditions. The salient characteristis of religious movements will
be discussed and compared; certain types of prevalent religious beliefs will
shed much light on recurrent patterns which tend reappear and reveal
regularities and similarities.
Earlier essays on comparative analysis of Indonesian religious move-
ments have been based on a limited selection of factual material.7
In this study I shall endeavour to give new factual material on religious
movements in various parts of Java which hitherto has not been studied.
The selection of material is mainly controlled by the choice of movements
which occurred in different regions of Java with different subcultures ;
certain typical and specially important movements receive greater attention,
i.e. the Nyi Aciah affair, 1870 — 1871; the Amat Ngaisa and/or Kobra
movement, 1871; the Jasmani affair, 1888; and the Tangerang affair,
1924,. Very close parallels in all these movements will be pointed out.
The movements can mainly be regarded as processes of internal
dynamics of local or regional societies; their history is actually 'm'cro-
history' pertaining to detailed accounts of particular social groups. This
kind of infranational history is obviously not history on the grand-scale, but
it has unmistakable links with the wider setting of general historical deve-
lopment in Java. As has been indicated above, religious movements caused
serious concern to the colonial government. Dur.ng the colonial period
the local or regional community was subject to the most various external
pressures, and its history cannot be understood without reference to them.
Probing more deeply, we can regard local history as the basis of the inti-
mate understanding of social change. As for the study of religious move-
ments in Java in the 19th and 20th centuries one of the most ubiquitous
of problems is that of sosial change with its concomitants — social unrest,
mobility and conflict. Here several themes come to a most exciting
confluence and a comprehensive account of religious movements should have
its methodological implications ; different lines of inquiry should be pulled

T G.W.. Drewes, op. cit.; J.M. van der Kroef, 'Javanese Messianic Expectation:
Their Origin and Cultural Context', CSSH, I (1959), pp. 299-323; also his
'Messianic Movements in the Celebes, Sumatra and Borneo', CSSH, Sup-
plement II (1962), pp. 80-121.

87
 SARTONO KARTODIRDJO

together in order to do justice to the richness of this historical phenomenon.

This of course is an ambitious approach which must not be pushed too far,
especially when source materials are lacking.
The tendency for religious movements to become correlations of
social change has frequently been noted, and on the basis of this tendency
the generalization has been made that exogenous sources of change were
the prime movers of religious movements. b What confronts us again and
again is the fam:liar over-emphasis on Western influence. It may be well
at this point to admit that with reference to traditional society during the
period of pre-Western contact not much cases of religious movements are
heard of. This is mainly due to a lack of documentary evidence; but we occa-
sionally come across other vestiges according to which religious movements
of a similar revivalistic or millenarian nature dfid accur.8 What does exist
seems to indxate that religious movements were already there.
In order to cope with the problem of close parallels in the religious
movements under study, their patterns of appearance and their special
characteristics, we have to employ certain forms of generalization. From
previous studies i't will be evident why the generalizing method has
proved so effective. 10 Tn actual fact, this method is in a way imposed
by the special nature of the subject - matter on the one hand, and its
historical material on the other; religious movements as a process are
extremely complex and they may best be approached by utilizing the
microcosmic perspectives of sociology or anthropology, in order to shed
more light on patterns, trends and features. The scanty source materials
compel us to look for supplementary data by means of a morphological
analysis and a systematic comparison. Although each religious movement
exhibits its own unique particularity and distinctiveness, similarities with
other movements can easily be discerned- This approach may well reveal
the repetitive aspects in the strategic or dramatic situations emergent
in the life history of religious movements. With this methodological consi-
deration in view, it would be useful at this point to outlne salient
features of religious movements before describing some instances of them.
II. Salient Features.
For the purpose of our study we need an inquiry which should
cover the essential characteristics of religious movements, i.e. the character
of leadership, the pattern of ideologies, the system of beliefs. Besides the
» See T. Bodrogi, 'Colonization and Religious Movements in Melanesia' Acta
Ethnographica Academica Scientiarum Hungarica, I I (1951), pp. 259-292; G,
Balandier, loc. cit.
F o r a religious movement during the Kartasura period see 'Serat Tjebolek',
K.R.A.P. Surjakusumo, ed., Semarang, 1885; see further D.A. Rinkes, 'Ki
Pandanarang te Tembajat', TBG. L U I (1911), pp. 435-581; Th. G. Th. Pigeaud,
'Aantekeningen betreffende den Javaanschen Oosthoek', TBG, L X X n (1932),
pp. 215-313; H.J. de Graaf, De Moord op kapitein Francois Tack, Amsterdam,
1935, esp. pp. 14-19.
II> For comparative studies of religious movements and the forms of generaliza-
tions implied, see Sylvia L. Thrupp, ed., Millennial Dreams in Action, Essays
in Comparative Study, CSSH, Supplement n , The Hague, 1962.

88
 RELIGIOUS MOVEMENTS OF JAVA

description of analogous features, study in detail is still much needed in

order to shed more light on historical developments in their particularity
involving the incidental and the occasional within even structures.
The central element of religious movements is a religious leader
who is either a prophet, a teacher, a curer, a magician or an abode of
the messiah. These leaders claim to be inspired by divine revelation (wah-
yu). A good instance is the Tambakmerang case of 1935 in which a cer-
tain Wirasenjaya got his revelation at illhe end of a fasting period of
forty days. After receiving this revelation he started to take up teachings;
later on he had 'to assume the role of a messiah, more or less imposed
on him by his followers.11 In the case of the Srandakan affair in 1924
a certain Kramaseja claimed to be an incarnation of Ratu Adil himself,12
while in the Tegalredja affair of 1889 a certain Dulmajid acted as a
precursor of Ratu Adil whose role has to be enacted by Prince Suryenga-
laga of Yogyakarta.13 In addition, we have to mention the case of Nang-
gulan in 1878 in which Sokadrana adopted the role of Ratu Adil.1* As
we shall see, like Wirasenjaya from Tambakmerang, Nyi Aciah from
Malangbong had to function as a symbolic focus, performing a role which
was imposed on her by her following. Nyi Aciah's leadership was in fact
insignificant and her elevation to such a position seems to be accidental.
It is generally known that in the Javanese cultural realm latent
millenarian expectations were quite conducive to the emergence of pro-
phetic figures. They were mostly reputed guru ngelmu (mystic teachers),
kyafs or holy men in general, who possessed charismatic power. This
religious elite was able to articulate the longings of the common people,
because they were mostly heirs of oral or written (millenarian) tradition.
It seldom happened, however, that in the course of the movement these
leaders built up a body of positive doctrine. What they actually did was to
convey the religious techniques for the promotion of the coming of the
millennium, e.g. holding feast meals, and other religjo-mystic rituals, dis-
tributing amulets, observing a period of fasting, and the like.
The supernatural power of those religious leaders is mainly based
upon their being endowed with charisma, the idea of which is generally
present in Indonesian society and commonly designated as keramat, wahyu,
or sakti. This gift of grace surrounds the persons endowed with it, with
an aura of holiness. It is a commonplace that charismatic leader»hip
constitutes a latent menace to the authority in power, for charismatic
power is basically revolutionary in nature. This certainly holds true for
traditional society and instances can be pointed out in which religious
leaders challenged the raja's authority.1B With the growing impact of
i i See Harjaka Hardjamardjaja, Javanese Popular Belief in the coming of Ratu
Adil, a religious Prince, Rome, 1962, 33-34.
12 Boedi Oetomo, 5 August 1924.
ia Oost-Indisch Besluit, 10 May 1890, no. 26.
i« Mailrapport 1878, no. 452. Cable of the Resident of Jogjakarta, 1 July 1878
no. 68.
i» J.A.B. Wiselius, 'Historisch onderzoek naar de geestelijke en wereldlijke su-
prematie van Grisse op Midden- en Oost-Java gedurende de 16de en 17dp

89
 SARTONO KARTOPIRD.TO

foreign rule during the colonial period there was a tendency for religious
movements to be used as a cloak for political opposition. Other basic
tendencies of religious movements predispose them to develop more ex-
treme political orientations and to emerge as radical political movements.
A second feature we have to stress refers to the rejection of the
present situation and the expectation of the coming of a millennium.
Besides the revival of traditional values, millennium usually envisages
an ideal society and romanticises the time to come as a golden age.
The ideal world is pictured as follows : „When the time comes there
will be no more conflicts, injustice and suffering; people will be freed
from paying burdensome taxes, performing compulsory services. There
will be neither sickness nor theft; there will be abundance of food and
clothes; everyone will possess à house; people will live in peace." 10
There is testimony from the Javanese cultural realm that elements
of millenarianism were present before the impact of the West; Hindu-
Javanese myths and the Erucakra belief seem to indicate that millenarian
expectations were already there. The reign of Erucakra is associated
with the millennium.17 As we have frequently observed, leaders of
millenarian movements or of political movements with millenarian un-
dertones adopted the name of Erucakra. 18 Needless to say, such
movements speedily brought uneasy authorities down to them. In actual
fact, the millenarian vision instils in the movement a sense of extreme
urgency and throws it into spells of rebellious activity, during which,
as sometimes happened, people sought physical protection from the
catastrophic events which were alleged to precede the millennium.
For example, in the Bekasi affair of 1869 Bapa Rama referred to total
darkness1"; Amat Ngisa of Karangkobar (1871) awaited the coming
of Ratu Adil with his army of devils who would spread plagues;20 and
Wirasenjaya of Tambakmerang (1935) expected a great flood.21 These

eeuw' TBG, XXIII (1876), pp. 458-509; H.J. de Graaf, 'Het Kadjoran vraag-
stuk', Djawa, XX (1940), pp. 273-327; see also Th. G. Th. Pigeaud, Javaan-
sche Beschavingsgeschiedenis, MS H 717 a-c Koninklijk Instituut voor Taal-,
Land-en Volkenkunde, 1943-1945.
16 On the traditional prophecies, see R. Tanojo, ed., Djangka Djajabaja. Weddha
Wakja, Sala, n.d. Bratakesawa, ed., Djangka Ranggawarsitan, Jogjakarta,
1959. Tjantrik Mataram, Peranan Ramalan Djojobojo dalam Revolusi kita,
Bandung, n.d.
IT See J. Brandes, loc. cit., p. 371; also A.B. Cohen Stuart, loc. cit., pp. 285-
288; Cf. G.W.J. Drewes, op. cit., esp. pp. 130-137.
i<* For the Diponegara rebellion, see Soemodidjojo, ed., Babad Diponegara, Jogja-
karta, 3953, esp. pp. 11-12; for an earlier Dipanegara rebellion, see Meinsma,
ed., Babad Tanah Djawi, The Hague, 1941, p. 333.
is» See missive of 5 August 1870, in Verbaal 31 August 1871, no. A.
-o Missive of the Resident of Banjumas, 14 June 1871, no. 2947
2i Harjaka Hardjamardjaja, op. cit., p. 34.

90
 RELIGIOUS MOVEMENTS OF JAVA

cataclysms in the apocalyptic future were regarded as imminent and

people lived in tense expectation and preparation for it. As a matter
oi fact, such visions had powerful revolutionary potential. In addition
it should be noted that millenarian prophecies often included elements
referring to changes which had taken place as a result of exposure to
Western dominance, such as hostility among compatriots ; conversion of
Muslims to infidelity; contamination of religious officials by unbelievers;
loss of honour of the king in the eyes of the commoner.22 These changes
were alleged to be sources of social disturbance. No wonder that people
envisaged a return of the good old days which would be hastened by
the movement.
From the explanations above it is evident that millennial ideology
incorporates eschatological elements which constitute an accelerator of
the millenarian movement. The transformation from the present situation
to the millennium is conceived in radical, revolutionary terms. The faithful
who wished to survive cataclysmic disaster were told 'to observe the pres-
criptions of the leader in undertaking rebellious action. Here we come
across the key element in a millenarian movement, i.e. the appearance of a
messiah or his abode.
What has been said so far may already indicate that messianic
note pervaded Javanese millenarism. As we have frequently observed, in
social upheavals in Central and East Java the weft of the messianic idea
has crossed the warp of religious movements with much repetition of pattern.
The Javanese messianic myth refers to the appearance of Ratu Adil or the
Righteous King, also named Erucakra, during whose reign righteousness
would prevail among the people; they would be delivered from evil, ene-
mies, illness and pestilence. The resurgence of King Tanjung Putih would
occur in 1800, while Erucakra would rule in Ketangga in 1900. 23
As we look back at the last two centuries that have passed, we find
that a number of leaders of rebellious movements adopted the name of
Erutjakra indicating their claim to be the messiah ; the oldest case on
record refers to Pangeran Dipanegara, who assumed the name of Erucakra
when he rebelled against the reigning sultan of Mataram, Amangkurat IV,
in ca. 1720.24 The wellknown Prince - Rebel, another Pangeran Dipa-
negara of about a century later, wore the title of Erucakra. According to his
autobiography he claimed to have received his revelation from Ratu Adil
himself, who bade him to expel the foreign ruler. -5 In 1888 a certain

22 On the various social changes, see W. Hoezoo, 'Het Javaansch geschrift

"Achiring Djaman" 'Mededeelingen vanwege het Nederlandsch Zendeling-
genootschap, XXVII (1883), pp. 1-42; compare with the signs of the coming
of the Righteous King as mentioned by Tjantrik Mataram, op. cit., esp.
pp. 29-31.
r , See a version of the Djajabaja prophecy in J.J. de Hollander, Handleiding bij
de beoefening der Javaansche Taal- en Letterkunde, Breda, 1848, pp. 173-183.
24 J. Brandes, loc. cit.
25 Serat Babad Dipanegaran, Surakarta, 1913, pp. 98-100.

ai
 SARTONO KARTODIRDJO

Jasmani of Blitar, who was, it was said, to be proclaimed sultan, would

take the name of Sunan Erucakra. 20 Although our documentary
evidence is still fragmentary, it would not be hard to find instances of
Ratu Adilism. Besides those cases referred to above we may mention
the following: (1) the Mangkuwijaya affair in 1865;27 (2) the lmansujana
affair in 1886; 28 (3) the Malangyuda movement;29 (4) the Pulung case; 30
(5) the Srikaton case; 31 (6) the Jalegong case in 1904; 32 the Imam
Buntara movement in 1907 33 ; and two other cases of 1925 are mentioned
by Drewes in passing.3*
The messianic tradition of Islam has made inroads in Javanese
millenarism, an Mahdism can be discerned in some currents of religious
movements in Java. 35 The 19th and 20th centuries furnish some instances,
like the Nurhakim affair in 1870, 36 and the Cilegon affair in 1888. 37
A more significant aspect of Java's religious ferment, which has
often agitated the people, is the idea of the holy war or perang sabil.
It cannot be denied that this idea considerably accelerated militancy among
dedicated believers. Simultaneous attacks could be launched by the religious
movements, against the rule of infidels and against social evils which had
come in the wake of foreign rulers. From the 'forties' of last century social
upheavals broke out because people were incited by zealous writings preach-
ing hostility against the infidels and foreign rulers. One should mention
the movement led by Baujaya of Semarang in 1841 ; a s the Achmad

2C See my The Peasants' Revoit of Banten in 1888, 's-Gravenhage, 1966, pp. 269-
271; cf. J. Groneman, Uit en over Midden-Java, Zutphen, 1891, pp. 66-67.
n L.E. Gerdessen, 'De Zamenswering in de Vorstenlanden', Tijdschrift voor
Nederlandsch Indie (TNI) II, (1871), r>. 207; cf. Verbaal 18 Oct. 1865, E 15
Kab.
a» Missive of the Resident of Surakarta 11 Oct. 1886, no. 32, in Mailrapport
1886 no. 664.
2» G.W.J. Drewes, op. cit., esp. pp. 19-38 cf. Report of the Resident of Ba-
njumas, 28 Sept. 1885 no. 3456/17 Geheim; see also Proces-Verbaal 14 Oct.
1886 and Oost-Indisch Besluit 14 Dec. 1886, no. 4.
so see 'De Poeloong-zaak (rustverstoring in Madioen in 1886), een ernstige
vingerwijzing' Indische Gids (IG), 1 (1886), pp. 231-238; also Koloniaal Ver-
slag 1886, fol. 2.
ai See rapport of the Resident of Surakarta of 14 Nov. 1888, no. 1; also 'Of-
ficeel relaas van de ongeregeldheden in Solo', IG, 1 (1889), pp. 216-221;
IG, 2 (1889), pp. 1768-1776.
«2 J. J. Samwel, 'De mislukte Djokjasche perang sabil' Weekblad voor Indie, 11
(1904), pp. 135-137; cf. 'De Djokjasche onruststoker Djalegong', Weekblad
voor Indie, 17 (1904), pp. 211-212.
sa See G.W.J. Drewes, op. cit., esp. footnote a t pp. 169-170.
8* G.W.J. Drewes, op., cit. footnote a t p. 192.
8« See W. Hoezoo, 'Het Javaansche geschrift "Achiring djaman", loc. cit., pp.
1 - 42 : on Mahdism in general, see C. Snouck Hurgronje, 'Der Mahdi',
Verspreide Geschriften, Vol. I. (Bonn, 1823), pp 147-181.
st G.W.J. Drewes, op. cit., esp. pp. 39-49.
37 See my 'The Peasants' Revolt of Banten in 1888', 's-Gravenhage, 1966.
38 Oost-Indisch Besluit 21 April 1841, no. 3.
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 RELIGIOUS MOVEMENTS OF JAVA

Daris affairs of Kedu in 1843;36 and the case of Haji Jena! Ngarip of
Kudus in 1847;40 all aiming at exterminating Europeans. In addition it is
important to note that the Cikandi Udjik affair in 1845 was strongly anti-
Furopean in purpose.41
Throughout most of the island, religious movements in the same way
rested their appeal to the people largely on the idea of the holy war.
It is sufficient here to refer to some upheavals that arose in the late
19th century and in the early 20th century : (1) the Ciomas affair in
1886; 42 (2) the Cilegon rebellion; (3) the Campa affair;43 (4) the
incident of Kyai Hasan Mukmin of Gedangan in 1904; 44 (5) the incident
of Pak Jebrak of Brangkal in 1919; 45 (6) the incident of Haji Hasan
of Cimareme in the same year. 40 Upon examining those religious move-
ments we find that the avowed anti-European attitude unmistakably comes
from the holy war idea, according to which the Muslim community is in
duty bound to wage war against infidels. Needless 'to say this very idea
not only promotes the sensitiveness of the people towards the rule of
infidels, but also accelerates religious movements in their radical and
revolutionary form.
The true significance of the religious movements of Java in the 19th
and 20th centuries cannot be appreciated unless we take into account
their nativistic aspect. And neither can they be properly evaluated except
in relation to social change brought about by Western domination.
Documentary sources reveal the idea of re-introducing some elements of
the society's pristine culture and rejecting the invading foreign culture.
Nativistic hopes promised the coming of a restored native earth on which
the white men would be no more, and which 'the old dynasty would rule
again. In 1840 an upheaval occurred in Yogyakarta which centered around
a certain Amat Sleman; he claimed to be a recipient of divine revelation
and also claimed the right to establish a new kingdom47, in 1843 Achmad
Daris of Kedu, mentioned above, adopted royal titles and announced that
the time had come to throw out all authorities.

s» Oost-Indisch Besluit 26 March 1843, no. 6.

40 Oost-Indisch Besluit 20 Dec. 1847, no. 5.
43 See 'De Opstand en Moord van Tjikandie Oediek in 1845', TNI, 1 (1859).
pp. 139-168.
42 See 'Onlusten op het particuliere land Tjiomas (Buitenzorg) in 1896', IG, no
2 (1886), pp. 941-942.
43 See 'De ongeregeldheden op het particuliere land Tjiampea (Buitenzorg) in
Juni 1892. Rapport van den Assistent-Resident', IG, no. 2 (1892), pp. 1920-
1926.
44 See J.F.A.G. van Moll, 'De onlusten in Sidohardjo (Mei 1904)', Archief
Java-suikerindustrie, XIII (1905), Bjjblad no. 33, pp. 579-607.
4» See 'Verzetsbewegingen op J a v a en Madoera en de voorkoming daarvan',
Orgaan van den Nederlandsch-Indische Politiek-Economische Bond, V (1924),
pp. 120-131.
46 On the Garoet affair, see for instance among the numerous articles 'Het
Garoet-drama en de afdeeling B', IG, no. 1 (1920), pp. 449-458.
47 See Kommissoriaal 21 March 1840, La HI; also Kabinets missive 29 June 1941,
no. 175.

93
 SARTONO KARTODIRDJO

It is also interesting to note that the recurrent disturbances in

Banten bear witness to the popular quest for socio-political redemption.
For a century and a half, and until recent times, people held up the
dazzling hope of the restoration of the great realm of the Banten sultans. 48
In the Priyangan region the popular tradition held up the dream of re-
storing the old glories of the Sunda kingdom. 49 What confronts us again
and again is the yearning to found a native kingdom ; this expectation
is ubiquitous in its appeal among the people whose social life has been
disintegrated by colonial rule. The myth of the return of the traditional
kingdom (of popular currency in Central and East Java) can easily be
traced in the above mentioned Javanese messianic prophecies.
In reviewing these nativistic movements, one cannot fail to notice
one distinct trend, i.e. the fact that the acceptance of foreign culture is
discredited and people who pollute themselves by adopting it should be
treated with contempt and disgrace. Accordingly, Indonesian bureaucrats
employed by the Dutch were regarded as decadents, and to be opposed.
Il should, therefore, hardly be necessary to explain why popular hostility
was shown towards civil servants, and why fierce attacks were launched
upon them during disturbances. The Jasmani case and the Cilegon affair
speak volumes for this anti-civil servant sentiment.
Two more characteristics of considerable importance emerge clearly
from a general review of these religious movements : aspects of ancestor
worship and of magico-mysticism. Religious leaders usually claim a kind
of contact with ancestors, saints, or the spirit world in general. At this
point we should recall the elleged meeting of Prince Dipanegara with
Ratu Adil on the top of Mt. Rasamuni;r'° Amat Sleman, mentioned
previously, claimed to have received his vocation from the Prophet himself;
visits to holy graves during the preparatory stage of a rebellious movement
are especially to be remarked. My case studies hold particular significance
for the observation of these crucial moments in the development of religio-
nativistic movements; they will be considered in some detail.
In all their varied forms, religious movements have been characterized
by a deep-rooted belief in magico-myticism (ngelmu). What people generally
are craving for is the quality of invulnerability. They are spurred on to
participate in the revolt with the promise of invulnerability, or of immunity
from the bullets of the Dutch military forces. The belief in invulnerability
has often been so strong that people abandoned all precautionary measures
in confronting military forces; a tragic battle usually ensued which ended
with a mass slaughter. In addition, it should be pointed out that there

4» See my The Peasants' Revolt of Banten in 1888, passim; also Harry J. Benda
and Ruth McVey, eds., The Communist Uprisings of 1926-1927 in Indonesia :
Key documents, Ithaca, 1960, p. 42.
4» On historical instances of the Ratu Sunda movement, e.g. in 1830, 1832,
1841, 1853, 1863, see missive of the Resident of Priyangan, 20 Dec. 1871,
La A, Geheim.; for a more recent instance, see 'Ratu Sunda', in Weekblad
voor Indie, n (1905-1906), p. 22.
<0 Serat Babad Dipanegaran, op. cit., pp. 98-100.

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 RELIGIOUS MOVEMENTS OF JAVA

is a popular belief in the im mortality of some particular leaders, regarded

as saints. In short, faith in invulnerability intensified the aggressive potency
of the population.
111. Four Historical Instances.
Such are the salient features which one should point out. They
help to shed a good deal of light on religious movements peculiar to a
large part of Java in the 19th and 20th centuries. From the wealth of
historical material four cases may now be selected. These are more or less
typical, but since there are great gaps in our information, no attempt has
been made to construct a 'typology. The present essay goes to show the
career pattern of a few selected religious movements from the point of
view of their salient characteristics.
Our first concern is with the so called Nyi Aciah affair (1870-1871).51
The movement was centered around Nyi Aciah of Sumedang (Priyangan)
who was well known to the people in the region in the late 'sixties'. She
had travelled much among them from the time when she was four or
five years old. In the course of the years Nyi Aciah became venerated
as a saint who could perform miracles, and in their need — especially
in seeking a cure for illness — people approached her for help. Her fame
began to spread widely after she had miraculously cured an eye disease
of her father. People came from distant villages to pay hommage and
many gifts were offered to her. When she was travelling, she was followed
by a large retinue. Everywhere she went she received a warm welcome
and elaborate preparations were made for her official reception.
At the peak of her movement a prophecy concerning her future
role circulated widely among the people. Two kingdoms would be established,
one at Keling, south of Banjar, and (the other at Tegalluwar. The setting
up of these would precede the coming of ithe Mahdi, who for the time
being did not want any religious war to occur. Nyi Aciah would be pro-
claimed queen of Tegalluwar. She was believed to be none other than
the daughter of Sunan Jumadilkubra, named Dewi Siti Johar Manikam.
On account of that high origin, princes, regents and other noblemen were
urged not to obstruct her movement. In the coming Sunda kingdom a
certain Hasan Mohamad would be appointed as deputy of the queen; Bapa
Enom would become commander-in-chief, while his son would function
as an umbrella-holder. People would be freed from paying taxes. War had
to be waged in order to overthrow the existing order; amulets (djimat)
and swat tobat were distributed among the devotees of Nyi Aciah. It should
be noted that the content of the surat tobat refers to the revelation received
by Hasan Mohamad.
In actual fact, it was this very Hasan Mohamad who fostered the
prophetic idea and instigated the Sunda kingdom movement. Being a
descendant of Javanese ancestors from Bagelen, Hasan Mohamad hved in

si The description of this movement is mainly based on documents compiled

in Verbaal, 30 Jan. 1873, no. 33, see esp. the missive of the Resident op Pri-
jangan, 20 Jan. 1871, L A, Geheim.

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 SARTONO KARTODIRDIO

Urug, his place of origin. He had received some religious education, suc-
cessively in the pesantren of Malangbong, Garut, and later on in a number
of pesantren in East-Java, i.e. in Madiun and Kediri. In 1869, he returned
to his village and established himself as a religious teacher and as a
medicineman as well. He soon became quite well known to the local com-
munity; he was venerated by the people and was called kyai. Sometimes
he became possessed by the divine spirit and WUJ prophesied through his
mouth that the existing order would be overthrown and that Ratu Sunda
would be proclaimed. The content of this revelation was written down
as a piagem, later on better known as the surat tobat mentioned above.
Copies of it were distributed among devotees during religious gatherings
with a warning to keep them safely until — as they put it — "the time
is come",. It should be noted that the first copy was given to Nyi Aciah
on the occasion of her first meeting with Hasan Mohamad. The latter
recognized her as the very person whom he had been looking for quite
some time and spoke to her with the appellation "daughter". From that
time forward conferences were held between Hasan Mohamad and his
aident followers, among other the Naib of Malangbong, Mas Abdulmanan;
the Naib of Indihiang, Raden Haji Mohamad Sanusi; the Naib of Tasik-
malaya. Raden Achmad Mohamad; Bapa Enom and Bapa Asminem, both
from Cibiana; Bapa Naib and Ambu Aciah — parents of Nyi Aciah; Haji
Abdullah and Haji Abdullah Omar. It is remarkable that three religious
officials were to be found among the prominent participants of the move-
ment, namely the three naibs.
One of the extraordinary manifestations of the movement took place
when Nyi Aciah and her following visited Malangbong in May 1871.
She was received with great enthusiasm and pomp, and provisions were
collected to feast her and her large retinue. A procession to the holy
graves of Malangbong was held in which a large number of women took
part, among others the wife of the Wedana of Malangbong. It is also
noteworthy that among the members of Nyi Adah's retinue some petinggis
(subdistrict heads) were to be found. The goverment was then determined
to put an end to this movement and Nyi Aciah together with prominent
devotees were arrested. The whole movement subsided totally.
Thus the movement of Nyi Aciah, which stated as a movement
ol her devotees, consolidated into a powerful religious movement giving
its followers the millenarian hope for the coming of the Sunda kingdom.
Previous messianic movements, successively led by Raksapraja in 1841,
by Bapa Kantang in 1853 and by Mutayam in 1863, were all meant to
restore the realm of Ratu Sunda. In my opinion this messianic figure can
be regarded as the Sundanese counterpart of the Javanese Ratu Adil.
Our next example is the so-called Kobra (or Jumadilkubra)
movement, centered in the southern part of the Pekalongan district and
in the northern part of the Banyumas district of Central-Java.52 In 1871

»2 On the Kobra movement, see missive of the Resident of Pekalongan, 21

August 1871, no. 4081 Geheim; for the document on the Amat Ngisa mo-
vement, see Verbaal 25 March 1872, no. 52.

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 RELIGIOUS MOVEMENTS OF JAVA

there began at Karangkobar, a small village in the valley of the Serayu,

a movement which could be called a Ratu Adil movement. Its precursor
was a gwu (religious teacher) called Achmad Ngisa, who declared that
Seh Jumadilkubra from Wanabadra had given him a holy message. He
prophesied the coming of Pangeran Erutjakra, followed by his army,
consisting of ghosts, demons, poisonous animals; they would rise against the
foreign rulers and expel them from the country, being allowed to return
only on condition that they were converted to Islam and were confined
to trading. After the foreigners had been driven away three rulers would
emerge, one originating from Majapahit, another from Pajajaran, and
the third from Kalisalak (Pekalongan). Towns would be replaced; the
capital of Banyumas would be removed to Daing and that of Banjarnegara
to Batur ; everybody, however, would stay in their birthplace. Achmad
Ngisa preached repentance and called upon his adherents to hold feast
meals (slametan) and to get possession of jhnats (amulets), consisting
of pieces of cloth, from Jumadilkubra. He proclaimed that people would
escape from all perils during this time, due to their devotions. 5S
There is no doubt that Achmad Ngisa's preaching appealed to many
different sections of the population, including civil seivants and village
notables. The demand for magical protective measures against plagues and
other catastrophes was almost certainly powerful to these groups. The
colonial administration did not take this situation lightheartedly ; a number
of lower regional officials and four village heads were apprehended for
having held slametans and kept jimats.r>1
The main theatre of the movement was the Pekalongan district where
Jumadilkubra was able to command a much larger following. When he
first comes into view, in the 'sixties, Hasan Achmad, alias Jumadilkubra,
appears as a carik (village secretary) of Besani. After giving up his job
he led a wandering life, always choosing holy graves where he could
practise asceticism (tapa), especially those of Wanabadra which had attracted
pilgrims from olden days. He claimed to have received his vocation when
he visited the holy graves of Gunung Lawct. B5 Then he began his mission
by spreading the prophecy of the coming of Erutjakra, as mentioned above.
In addition, it should be noted that Jumadilkubra had been put in asylum
for suffering from lunacy ; at this time it was observed that he easily fell
into trances.
Jumadilkubra's call to penitence found a great response. His fame
spread far and wide; people flocked to him from Semarang, Cilacap,
Kedu, and Yogyakarta. Adherents held meetings either in mosques or in
the homes of local notables. As might be expected, Jumadilkubra him-
self was nearly always present, and as the records tell us, some occasions
a See missive of the Assistant Resident of Banyumas, 14 June 1871.
54 Ibid.
i« On the holy graves of Gunung Lawet, see G.W.J. Drewes, op. cit. pp. 19
ff.; see also J.W. van Dapperen, 'Plaatsen van vereering op de zuid-helling
van de Slamef, Djawa, XV (1935), pp. 24-32; also Babad Djambukarang,
Jogjakarta, 1953.

97
 SARTONO KARTODIRDJO

he predicted the coming revolt. During the visit of three noblemen from
Yogyakarta his prediction referred to an insurrection which would break
out throughout Java, these noblemen being counted among what he describee
as the prominent heads of the movement ; they were to overpower Batang.
Then he came into contact with a certain Haji Brahim from Kedu during
the fasting period at the end of 1870, from whom he received various
inspirations, for example, to assume the name of Kobra and to intensify
his penitence. He began to tour the neighbouring places, like Bandar,
Segelap, Pekalongan, Blado, Senopo ; meetings were held in which prominent
local notables were present. Every command of his was promptly obeyed.
In fact, rumours were spread that he had secret communication with the
Regent, the Patih and the Wedana of Pekalongan. Later on these officials
had to face charges of incitement to insurrection. Comprising facts were
put forward against the Regent, who would not detect anyhting in the
movement. He was accused of supporting the rebels in order to bring
disgrace on the Regent of Batang, so that his own son — the Wedana of
Pekalongan — could be appointed successor. 56 In any case, as soon as
the Dutch authorities were on the scent of Jumadilkubra's mysterious
activities, he was quickly put in jail. According to the view mentioned
above, Jumadilkubra had only played into the Regent's hands, though it
was found later that this information was incorrect. ßT With the arrest ol
Jumadilkubra the movement died down.
The Jasmani affair which forms our third example took place in
Kediri in East-Java; it also extended to Madiun, west of Kediri. This
movement was inaugurated by a certain Jasmani of the village Sengkrong
in the district of Blitar. He was born in Sumawana (Kedu) ; he had received
some religious education, having attended pesantrens in various places, e.g.
in Yogyakarta, Madiun and Kediri; then he had lived for a while with Amat
Mukiar, a very well reputed guru to whose name an aura of holimess was
attached. Profoundly versed in the various branches of religious learning,
he established a religious school at Sengkrong. He began to adopt the life
of an ascetic, retiring mositiy for prayer and meditation. In the course of
lime he became venerated as a saintly character. People who were in need
of help or desired a boon, such as a good harvest, believed that he could
fulfil 'their desires. Jimats were also distributed.
In the beginning of 1887, Amat Mukiar held festivities for the
wedd'ng of his daughter, which actually became a big gathering of his
disciples; Jasmani also came and partook of the feast. All those who
gathered for this meeting listened to Amat Mukiar's prophecy, wh ch
referred to the coming kingdom of Sultan Adil; it would be established
in Birowo in the Lodoyo district at the end of the Javanese year Wawu.
O «

50 Kommissoriaal 20 Sept. 1871, no. 6809.

s: Missive of the Resident of Pekalongan, 17 July 1871, no. 3422 Geheim.

98
 RELIGIOUS MOVEMENTS OF JAVA

Furthermore, Amat Mukiar disclosed that he intended to assume the role

of panembahan (regent) while Jasmani would be proclaimed Ratu Adil
Igama. People should wage war against Europeans, Chinese and all native
civil servants who collaborated with them. At the same time it was intended
to return to one religion. In this connection Amat Mukiar demanded from
his disciples a complete submission to Jasmani. In particular, he insisted
on the initiation of the disciples in the invulnerability-cult and on the
distribution of djimats to every adherent. He introduced the so-called ilmu
pasucen according to which the rites of washing corpse should be
abandoned. S8
Back in Blitar, Jasmani started to propagate those millenarian
ideas and secured a large following. An intense preparation for open
rebellion was made; weapons were collected; externally, Jasmani's fol-
lowing was to be recognized by the peculiar fashion of their clothes,
consisting of a blue jacket and trousers, and black head gear. Jasmani
himself would appear in Javanese clothes on the top of a hill in Birowo.
On the same spot he would set up a banner bearing Arabic superscrip-
tions, and be announced that he would be marching out under this
standard at the head of his followers.
But before Jasmani could give the signal for the revolt, he was
arrested. It appears that by the time of his arrest the movement had
already found considerable support outside the district of Blitar. The of-
ficial world, in alarm, started a campaign in those regions where the
movement evidently had ramified, for example, Banyumas, Bagelen, Yogya-
karta, Surakarta, Madiun, and Malang; this persecution of "plotters"
resulted in many captures.r'9
Persecution about that time raged also in Panaraga, bordering on
Kediri. fl0 The leader of this movement was Achmad Suhada of Gading,
who prophesied that a pure Islamic kingdom would be established, while
at the same time encouraging his disciples to arm themselves for the coming
war. This was revealed to him by the daughter of the Sultan of Rum,
whom he saw in a vision when he was in retirement on Mt. Grono. It is
noteworthy that Achmad Suhada toured the neighbouring areas to recruit
disciples. Meeting were held on Mt. Juga and1 Mt. Gading. The anti-foreign
tendency can be easily discerned from the slogans they used, such as
"Ngetok Walanda" (Behead the Dutch), and "Ngush Kumpeni" (Oust the
Company). In the coming kingdom Achmad Suhada was to be proclaimed
king while a certain Karnijan would be appointed Paüh (grandvizier),
and one Karmanawi would become Senapati (commander-in-chief). The
local government, which had been watching the movement with concern,
found it necessary to step in. Achmad Suhada was arrested with twenty
of his closest followers.

os Missive of the Resident of Kediri, 18 Oct. 1888, no. 52, Geheim.

s» See my The Peasants' Revolt of Banten in 1888, op. cit., esp. pp. 269-271.
eo Missive of the Resident of Madiun, 13 Oct. 1888, no. 3017.

99
 SARTONO KARTODIRDJO

As we have pointed out in another work, the European community,

shocked by the manslaughter in Cilegon a few weeks before, were apt
to assume that the movement mentioned above intended a general rising
throughout Java. We are tempted to admit that the idea of a nation-wide
revolt would rather confirm their own preconceived suspicions. What the
documentary evidence does tell us is that the end of the Javanese year
Wawu seems to be relevant to the expectation of the coming kingdom of
Ratu Adil.61
Our last example goes to show the pattern of development, leader-
ship, and ideological orientation as it may be observed in the Tangerang
affair (1924). °2 We know that the leader of the movement was a peasant,
called Kaiin bapa Kay ah. When he came into view he was of middle age;
he possessed a good home and since his marriage to Tan Teng Nio had
increasingly prospered. By the time of the affair Kaiin was considered
a dalang (shadow puppet player) of repute, so that he usually went by
the name of Bapa Dalang. During the last few years he had frequently
visited the holy graves at Manggadua in downtown Batavia, well known
as the keramat of Pangeran Blongsong and Ibu Mas Kuning. There he
came into contact with Sairin alias Bapa Cungok of Cawang who initiated
him in the ilmu kawedukan and ilmu kaslametan (mystical teaching on
invulnerability). In 1923 he also Visited Kyai Mohamad Santri from Giri-
jaya on the slope of Mt. Salak; people reputed the latter to be holy
hermit whose blessings was very much sought after.
The story of Kaiin's conversation relates that he attended wedding
festivities at Marin's house. During the shadowplay performance in which
the story of Panggiring Sari and Suklawijaya — both descendants of Prabu
Siliwangi, the legendary king of the Sundanese kingdom — was told, Kaiin
suddenly felt miserable and told the audience that Suklawijaya's story
actually was his own life history. He also disclosed that he was of royal
discent and would be proclaimed king, with the title Ratu Rabulalamin
or Sanghyang Tunggal. Furthermore, he revealed that he had completed
his seclusion for seventeen years and the time had arrived to establish
his kingdom. Then he invited the audience to take part in the coming
triumphant march to Mt. Salak.
In the course of the following months meetings among the plotters
were held; pilgrimages were made both to the sacred tombs at Mang-
gadua and to that of Raden Bagong at Parangkored; the saints' blessings
were invoked in order to succeed in conquering the Javanese kingdom.
To increase his hold over his following Kaiin adopted the method of
the tarekat (Islamic mystical order). Moreover, his adherents enjoyed the
prospect of owning abundant land which was to be wrested from its
former owners. During a meeting at 'the end of December 1923 Kaiin
received a revelation, in a dream, that the estates in Tangerang actually

«i See my 'The Peasants' Revolt of Banten in 1888' op. cit., esp. p. 272.
«2 For the data on this movements, see Rapport over de Tangerangsche Ratu
Adil of March 1924 (MS).

100
 RELIGIOUS MOVEMENTS OF JAVA

belonged to his ancestors — Pangeran Mayor Blongsong and Ibu M »

Kuning. Since the term of the landlease had terminated, the Chinese should
be driven out from the estates. Kaiin would be proclaimed king of the land
and named Prabu Arjuna.
According to Sairin's proposal the revolt was to be staged on 10
February 1924, i.e. the fourth of the month Rajab. The few weeks prece-
ding the launching of the assault was a period of throbbing activity in
which visits were made to the hermitage at Girijaya and the holy graves;
fasting was performed; various sorts of jimats were distributed (e.g. small
coins and incence); and rituals of purification were observed. On the
appointed day all participants were to wear white trousers and bamboo
hats made in Tangerang.
As the day was drawing near, adherents assembled at Kaiin's house,
observing rituals and listening to Kaiin's admonitions. According to an
enlightenment Kaiin identified himself with Saidina Ali, Mirah Dalima,
and Malaikat maut; furthermore, here was nobody else than the last keramat
(saint). He also prophesied that on the appointed day the earth would be
covered with darkness ; people were, therefore, urged to stay at home.
On 10 Febuary, Kaiin marched with a band of his followers to
the house of the landlord of Pangkalan and committed several outrages
on people and property. The office of the landlord of Kampung Melayu
was sacked and books were burnt. Then the band moved on, and came
to a halt at the house of the sub-d|istrict head. Bapa Dalang conveyed
to him that his band would move to Batavia (Jakarta) in order to destroy
it. The sub-district head was aware of what was going on and tried to
dissuade the band from proceeding. He partly succeded in persuading them
to calm down and to have them drink a cup of tea. Meanwhile a dispatch
from him informed the Controller of Tangerang and the Commander of
the district police of what was taking place. A small squad of policemen
was rushed to the place. Later in the afternoon the band moved on to Batavia
accompanied by the police ; the procession ended with a dramatic occurrence
in Tanah Tinggi where shots were fired and 19 rebels were killed and
23 wounded. After this encounter the movement broke down, and nothing
more was heard of it.

IV. General Comments

The description of the four historical cases in the preceding part
suggests that some common characteristics among those religious movements
can be pointed out, i.e., their messianistic, millenaristic, nativistic character
and aspects of prophetism, the holy war idea, xenophobia, magicomysticism,
and ancestor worship. Furthemore, there are obvious parallels between those
movements as regards their delelopmental patterns. It can be safely said
that there is a remarkable consistency in the pattern of the religious
movements that have occurred in Java of the 19th and 20th centuries,
the emergence of a divine abode, the centreing of devotees around him,
the conveying of religious techniques for promotion of the coming of the

101
 SARTONO KARTODIRDJO

millennium. Dramatic situations did not always emerge in the life history
of religious movements since their career was too often cut short by
the suppressive action of authorities.
Here again it will be necessary to notice that our study of religious
movements does not readily lend itself to the sort of comparison we have
in mind — namely, an assessment of the same set of selective characteristics
of all or of most religious movements in a single society at specific epochs.
Such a comparison calls for a range of information currently unavailable.
In attempting to clarify the generic significance of religious movements
under study some outstanding tendencies should also be considered.
Recurring outbursts of religious frenzy are features of rural Java of
the 19th and 20th centuries. Without a doubt, socio-religious commotions
of that period mostly occurred in rural areas and seldom, if ever, had
their centre in urban areas. Of course, instigators of some upheavals
were occasionally to be found in towns, but the leaders, °3 the avant guard
and the rank-and-file alike were generally made up of peasants and other
segments of the rural population. As has been stated elsewhere, the
leadership was commonly in the hands of the rural elite, while the peasants
constituted the numerical strength of the movements.64 It was certain
categories of the religious elite who were able to convey traditional concepts
of the millennium to the peasants.
A concomitant aspect of religious movements which mainly appeared
in the rural scene is their unmistakeable stamp of what we may desig-
nate as traditionalism. It implies the intellectual expression of revivalism
as can be discerned in the nativistic traditionalism and was the conspicuous
form of reaction of the rural population. Xenophobia and anti-foreign
attitudes may be partly considered in terms of this traditionalistic ten-
dency. Thought of in terms of socio-cultural conflict, "reaction" is almost
synonymous with "protest", namely social protest against various inroads
of westernization. As Balandier put it, religious movements generally took
on the character of a total reaction,05 i.e. a rejection of the European
presence. In addition we may notice that millenarism usually includes
a rejection of the present, its attitude to which is radically negative. In
fact, millenarism is essentially of revolutionary character since it refers
to a total transformation of the status quo. We have shown that it was
the use of millenarian ideas which gave the people a means of expressing
their resistance.
As we have frequently observed, political radicalism is often a con-
comitant of religious movements. ReUgious ideas and symbols were quite
effective in 'their appeal to the people, who were for most part religious
in their modes of thinking. In imposing the holy war idea Islam ra-
dically opposed foreign rule, shaped the existing conflict and facilitated
03 For insurrectionary movements instigated by the urban elite, see my The
Peasants' Revolt of Banten in 1888, pp. 122-127, on the Wachia revolt of 1850
also on the Koletet affair in 1866, pp. 129 -130.
6* See my The Peasants' Revolt of Banten in 1888, p. 4.
«s G. Balandier, loc. cit., pp. 41-45.

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 RELIGIOUS MOVEMENTS OF JAVA

the reaction. Furthermore, by affirming religious ties, religious movements

were capable of incorporating a large number of followers going far beyond
the limits of kinship groups, in some instances of upheaval it was the tarekat
(mystical brotherhood) which functioned as a device for radical protest. «
In this connection it is noteworthy that guru-murid relationship (teacher-
disciple) considerably facilitated the mobilization of adherents for a move-
ment. During the colonial period tarekat movements took the form of a
campaign against secularization and further penetration of the rule of
infidels.
It should not be overlooked that radicalism in religious movements
can be accelerated by eschatological targets of millenarism on the one
hand, and the belief in invulnerability on the other. Eschatological pro-
phecy envisages an imminent and total redemption and instils in religious
movements a sense of extreme urgency; consequently, when the appointed
day comes die movement reaches its critical moment and a fanatical
outburst follows. The struggle has powerful radical potential because of
the belief in invulnerability and the vision of an imminent victory.
Needless to say, an encounter with colonial military forces always results
n disaster and disillusion.
Although traditional protest as manifested in religious movements
s essentially religious, many of those movements have their secular aspect.
Rebellions or popular disturbances which can be clearly recognized as
mvolving secular issues seem mostly to have arisen from fiscal conflicts.
t should also be clear from the historical cases which have been men-
loned in passing that in the colonial situation religious conflicts frequently
aerge with secular ones. Clear instances of this kind of religious move-
îent include the Ciomas rebellion in 1886; the Cilegon revolt in 1888;
ne Gedangan affair in 1904; and the Cimareme case in 1919.67 In these
ases people gave voice to their discontent, assigning motives for joining
te rebellion which refer to excessive taxes, revenues, and services demanded
torn them. Taking these facts into account, these movents may be regarded
s a channel for protest against a socio-economic system which upset the
raditional order. In reviewing various patterns of protest movements at the
ame epoch, it would not be hard to find instances of movements which took
realistic line,us In this respect Bodrogi's study on Melanesian movements
oes not hold true as regards movements in Java of the period under
îudy.6U Although times and conditions were the same, one category of

» See my 'The Peasants' Revolt of Banten in 1888', esp. pp. 157-165; chap. VI.
' Popular discontent was commonly excited by excessive demand of services
and the levying of various taxes; the issue of land use for sugar cultivation
and of compulsory contribution of paddy evidently had a direct bearing on
some social upheavals.
s On historical instances of social protest movements of a secular nature, see E.
de Waal, Onze Indische Financien, Vol. I, 's-Gravenhage, 1876, pp. 264-271.
Mention should be made of the institution of massprotest in the Principalities,
called pépé; see B. ter Haar, Adat Law in Indonesia, New York, 3918 p. 76.
' See T. Bodrogi, loc. cit., p. 279.

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 SARTONO KARTODIRDJO

movements was kept on a religious level while another category took

a realistic line. It must be stressed that besides socio-economic conditions
other eccelerators or determinants come into play. As we have repeatedly
observed, it is the rise of the charismatic religious leaders, their millenarian
preaching, and the anti-foreign hatred inculcated by those leaders which
make people receptive to revolutionary ideologies. It would be worth while
to examine what part the leader may have played in non-religious protest
movements. In Conn's view, severe conditions, like catastrophes, are
favourable to millenarian movements. 70 As regards religious movements
in Java, his findings are not compatible with our observations on docu-
mented'historical cases. It is, therefore, our conclusion that an explanation
of religious movements in terms solely of socio-economic conditions will
be inadequate. In this essay we are not inclined to speculate broadly about
explanations of a general type. n Instead our contention is that any
historical explanation has to resort to historical contingency. Here, perhaps,
by accumulating details of the numerous Indonesian religious movements,
the historian can contribute to illuminating the pure nature of religious
movements in general.
Finally, we come to those religious movements which are to some
degree in a transitional category, involving the presentation of modern
ideologies, belonging to modern-style movements like the PKI or the SI
(Sarekat Islam), very much in the manner of the millenarian prophet.
This is best illustrated, perhaps, by the Tuban affair in 1912, in which
people who declined to become members of the SI were mutilated; or
in the Banten revolt of 1926, where PKI aims were presented in the
light of both millennial and religious ideas. 72 These movements express
a "moment'' in Indonesian history in which the forces of modernization
and archaism come together.

70 s e e Norman, loc. cit., p. 40.

Ti On the various types of explanation of religious movements, see Sylfia L
Thrupp, loc. cit., 25-27.
T2 For the Banten revolt of 1926, see Harry J. Benda and Ruth T. McVey
op. cit. esp. pp. 43-47, for the disturbances in Tuban in 1912, see 'Verzetsbe-
wegingen op Java en Madoera en de voorkoming daarvan' in Orgaan van de
Nederlandsch-Indische Politiek-Economische Bond, loc. cit., p. 123. Compart
also with disturbances in Jambi which also showed both traditionalistic and
modernistic features; see 'De Opstad in Djambi', in IG. no. 1 f 1917),
pp. 340-653.

104
POLITICS

J
 SIXTEENTH CENTURY TURKISH INFLUENCE
IN WESTERN INDONESIA *
A.J. S. REID
UNIVERSITY OF MALAYA

The existence of diplomatic and military relations between Ottoman

Turkey and some Muslim states of Southeast Asia has been known for
centuries. The Portuguese chroniclers, notably Couto and Pinto, kept the
idea alive in the West; oral traditions and a few chronicles kept it more
vividly before the imagination of 'the Atjehnese; and in Turkey there has
been a revived interest in the connection since at least 1873. An attempt
therefore seems overdue to seek greater precision on these remarkable
events, by considering at least the most notable of the sources from the
three sides.
For the peoples of Indonesia and Malaysia, the Raja Rum has
figured as one of the great kings of the world since the earliest Muslim
literature. Since 'the sixteenth century this title clearly referred to the
Ottoman Sultan, the strongest of Muslim monarchs and heir presumptive
to the dignity of the Caliphate. Long before the Ottoman rise, however,
Persian and Turkish literature used Rum to designate the Byzantine, and
occasionally also the Roman Empires. 1 It is clear that the legendary
greatness of this distant kingdom owed something to the lustre of all three
imperial occupants of Constantinople.
Many traditions of Malaya and Sumatra, in particular, associate
Raja Rum, the great king of the West, with Raja Cliina, the great king
of the East. A typical origin myth is 'that of Johor, as quoted by Marsden.2
Iskandar Dzul karnain (Alexander the Great) had three sons by the daughter
of the King of the Ocean. After a contest between the three brothers in
Singapore Straits, the eldest went to the West to become Raja Rum, the
second East to become Raja China, while the third remained at Johor,
to begin the later Minangkabau dynasty. Even as late as Marsden's own
time in Sumatra (1771-9) the Sultan of Minangkabau styled himself younger
brother of the rulers of Rum and China. 3
A similar origin myth is that of Kedah, contained in the Hikayat
Marong Mahawangsa.4 The story goes that Garuda, the bird of Vishnu,

Paper presented a t the TVth IAHA Conference, Kuala Lumpur, 1968.

i Encyclopedia of Islam, III, 1174-5.
2 The History of Sumatra, 3rd. Ed. (London, 1811'), pp. 341-2.
a Ibid. pp. 338-41.
4 Siti Hawa Saleh, Hikayat Merang Mahawangsa (Unpublished M A . Thesis.
University of Malaya, 1966).
Abdullah b. Haji Musa Lubis (ed.), Kesah Raja Marong Maha Wangs-»
(Kuala Lumpur, 1965). R.O. Winstedt, 'The Kedah Annals', JMBRAS 16,
11 (1938) 31-5. c. Hoovkaas, Over Malaise Literatuur, Ind. Ed. (Leiden,
1947), pp. 91-4.
107
 A.J.S. RF.ID

who inhabited the island Langkapuri, made a wager with Suleiman (So-
lomon — lord of the animal world in Musjim literature), that he could
prevent the destined marriage between 'the son of Raja Rum and the
daughter of Raja China. Garuda succeeded in capturing the Chinese prin-
cess and bringing her to Langkapuri, and 'then sank the fleet which was
bringing the prince of Rum together with his escort, the hero Marong
Mahawangsa. The prince, however, drifted to Langkapuri and there married
the princess from China, bringing, frustration to Garuda. Meanwhile Marong
Mahawangsa established the kingdom of Langkasuka. Soon after he returns
to Rum, leaving Langkasuka to his son, who is the progenitor of the
dynasties of Siam (the eldest), Kedah, Patani, and Perak.
Equally fanciful tales are current among the Gayo, who now inhabit
the interior of Atjeh in Northwest Sumatra though they appear to have
come from the coast. They relate that a young child of Raja Rum was
conveyed to Sumatra, where the child was brought up by a local fisherman,
and in time became the progenitor of the Gayo people. °
The list of such traditions could certainly be lengthened. Suffice it
to say that when first Ottoman Turkey emerged as a power in the Indian
Ocean it became the focus of a considerable heritage of tradition about
a mighty kingdom in the West.
Only in Atjeh, however, do we find written accounts of contact
with Turkey which bear a historic character. The most reliable chronicle
oi sixteenth century Atjeh is the Bustanu's-Salatin, written in the Atjehnese
capital by the Gujerati Nurud-din ar-Raniri in 1638. In his usual factual
manner, Nurud-din ascribed the opening of relations with Turkey to the
Atjehnese Sultan Alau'd-Din Ri'ayat Shah al-Kahar (15377-1571) :
He it was who created the system of government of Atjeh Daru's-
Salam and sent a mission to Sultan Rum, to the state of Istanbul,
in order to strengthen the Muslim religion. The Sultan Rum sent
various craftsmen and experts who knew how to make guns. It
was at that time that the large guns were cast. It was also he who
first built a fort at Atjeh Daru's-Salam, and he who first fought
all unbelievers, to the extent of going to attack Malacca in person.8

« H.M. Zainuddin, Tarich Atjeh dan Nusantara (Medan, 1961), pp. 197-8.
For another reference to Gayo origins see A.H. Hill (ed.) 'Hikayat Raja-
Raja Pasai', JMBRAS 33, Pt. 2 (1960).
« Ia-lah yang meng'adatkan segala isti'adat kerajaan Aceh Daru's-Salam
dan menyuroh utusan kapada Sultan Rum, ka-negeri Istanbul, kerana me-
neguhkan ugama Islam, Maka di-kirim Sultan Rum daripada jenis utus dan
pandai yang tahu menuang bedil. Maka pada zaman itu-lah di-tuang orang
meriam yang besar-besar. Dan ia-lah yang pertama-tama berbuat kota di-
negeri Atjeh Daru's-Salem, dan ia-lah yang pertama-tama ghazi dengan
segala kafir, hingga sendiri-nya berangkat menyerang Melaka.
T. Iskandar (ed.), Bustanu's-Salatin Bab H, Fasal 13 (Kuala Lumpur,
1966), pp. 31-2.

108
 SIXTEENTH CENTURY TURKISH INFLUENCE

The most famous of the "large guns" to which Raniri referred was
known to the Atjehnese as lada sor-chupak — one (bamboo) measure of
pepper. It lay at the mouth of the A'tjeh-river until taken to Holland in
1874, and still bears a Turkish star-motief along the barrel. 7 Most of the
oral traditions which have been strongly preserved in Atjeh about a mission
'to Turkey are woven around this fine piece of artillery. At least one
chronicle, the Atjehnese epic poem Hikayat Meukota Alam,8 has preserved
this tradition in writing. It attributes the mission to Iskandar Muda
(1607-36), the Atjehnese roi-soleil traditionally credited with many of the
spectacular achievements of the early Sultanate. He decided to send an
envoy to Istanbul with money for the support of the holy places, because
the Sultan of Turkey was the greatest among Muslim rulers and had the
care of the holy places. He sent three ships, laden with padi, beras and
pepper respectively. But the crew had such difficulties that they only
reached Istanbul after three years, by which time they had eaten all the
rice, and sold most of the pepper to support themselves. Only sa-chupak
lada remained. The envoys were mortified, but Sultan Rum was magnani-
mous, and sent them back in state with the great cannon, which he named
himself. He also sent to Atjeh twelve pahlawans (war-leaders). These were
so skilfull that they anabled Iskandar Muda to build the great fort of Atjeh,
the palace, and even the famous Gunongan (more reliably credited to Is-
kandar Thani (1637-41). Sultan Rum had advised Iskandar Muda to kill
the pahlawans when they had finished their work. He was at first reluctant
to do so, but the Turks finally alienated everybody by their arrogance,
and were stoned to death. 9
The story of 'the pahlawans appears to be a special touch of this
poet, but in other respects the story is similar to those which have been
recorded more recently from oral traditions. The latter versions, recorded
by Snouck Hurgronje in 1891 1 0 and by Saffet in 1911, " have the Atjeh-
nese envoys wasting two years in Istanbul rather than at sea. They also

7 The cannon is described in K.C. Krucq, 'Beschrijving der kanonnen afkomstig

uit Atjeh, thans in het Koninklijk Militair Invalidenhuis Bronbeek', TBG, 81
(1941), pp. 545-6.
s This has been published only in the form of a shortened Malay prose
translation by T. Mohamad Sabil, entitled Hikajat Soeltan Atjeh Marhoem
(Soeltan Iskandar Moeda), (Batavia, 1932). H.K.J. Cowan believes the
Atjehnese original to be a reworking of the better-known Atjehnese verse
epic Hikayat Malem Dagang, with the addition at the beginning of this
Turkish incident. De "Hikajat Malem Dagang" (The Hague), 1937), pp.
12-13.
8 T. Mohamad Sabil, pp. 3-11.
iu Snouck Hurgronje, The Achehnese, trans. A.W.S. O'Sullivan (Leiden, 1906),
I, 208-9. Also Mohammad Said, Atjeh Sepandjang Abad (Medan, 1961),
p 101. The interpretation of the mission as one of tribute rather than
ailiance in the version of 1891 may owe something to the events of 1873,
when the Atjehnese attempted to portray their country as under Turkish
suzerainty.
n Saffet Bey, 'Bir Osmanli Filosunun Sumatra Seferi', Tarihi Osmani Encümeni
Mecmuasi, 11 (1912), pp. 681-3. See Appendix for this material.

109
 A.J.S. REID

stress the existence of a Turkish village in Atjeh named Bitay, which the
Atjehnese derive from Bait ul-mukaddis (Jerusalem). Its inhabitants were
said to be the descendants of Syrian artisans from that city, who were
sent out by the Sultan of Turkey. According to the version of Snouck
Hurgronje, the Ottoman Sultan exempted the Atjehnese from sending
regular tribute to him as their sovereign. Instead they should honour him
by observing the feast of Mohammad's birthday with special zeal. In this
way the latter-day Atjehnese explained their exceptional devotion to this
Mo'lot feast. Saffet's version also gives a religious character to the authority
of the Turkish Caliph. He was alleged to have sent a sermon to be read
in the Atjehnese great mosque every Friday.
This oral tradition was strong enough to form an important element
in the Atjehnese diplomatic offensive in 1873, when their country was
invaded by the Dutch. It even entered briefly into the calculations of the
Powers. Atjeh appealed to Turkey for protection on the strength of the
ancient connection between the two countries. The Porte took the idea
seriously, and stated in an official offer of mediation in the war, commu-
nicated to the Netherlands and other Powers :
When Sultan Selim 12 carried his victorious arms to the extremities
of the Arabian peninsula, of which he made the conquest, the echo
of his victories reached as far as the island of Sumatra. The Atjeh-
nese sent a deputation to the feet of the conqueror, recognized the
supremacy of 'the powers inherent in his title of Khalif, made an
act of submission into the hands of the famous Sinan Pasha, raised
the Ottoman flag in their ports and on their vessels, declared them-
selves vassals of Sultan Selim and asked in return for his high
protection. Sultan Selim received these offers favourably. By his
orders the Vezir Sinan Pasha sent to the vassal Sultan the cannons
and swords of honour which are still to be seen in Atjeh.13
While the date of the mission thus seems to have been pushed
back by the Turks to a period before Atjeh's appearance on the interna-
tional scene, other Atjehnese accounts prefer to credit it to the reign of
the great Iskandar Muda. But the mission takes on different shapes to
suit the chronicler's purpose. Thus the Hikayat Atjeh, a hymn of praise
to Iskandar Muda written during his lifetime, makes the incident an op-
portunity to show how "the account of Djohan Alam (Iskandar Muda)

12 Sultan Selim I 'the conqueror' (1512-20) seems to be meant here. He con-

quered Egypt in 1517 and received as a result the submission of the Hejaz.
If so it must be the result of a confusion with Selim II (1566-78), under
whom the contact did take place, and the Yemen was reconquered (see
below, pp. 116-117). A Turkish newspaper of 1873 similarly attributed it to
Selim I; see R. H. Djajadiningrat, 'Critisch Overzicht van de in Maleische
Werken Vervatte Gegevens over de Geschiedenis van het Soeltanaat van
Atjeh', BKI, 65 (1911), p. 146. Curiously, K.C. Krucq, op. cit. p. 546, appears
to have made the same mistake.
is Rashid (Turkish Foreign Minister) to Musurus (Ambassador to Britain and
the Netherlands) 11 Aug. 1873, Woltring (ed.), Bescheiden Betreffende de
Buitenlandse Politiek van Nederland, 2de Periode (The Hague, 1962), I, 612.

110
 SIXTEENTH CENTURY TURKISH INFLUENCE

became famous throughout all nations of the earth". 14 The Turkish in-
cident is made to follow the story of an embassy from Siam, which resulted
in the greater glory of Iskandar Muda among the nations of the East.
Then a delegation arrived from Rum, via Yemen and Mocha, seeking
oriental balms to cure the illness of Sultan Muhammad (Muhammad III,
1595-1603?). The envoys arrived while Iskandar Muda was warring against
Deli (thus 1612), but 'they were splendidly received on his return. Later
the envoys reported back to Sultan Rum on the wonders of Atjeh, where-
upon the Ottoman ruler declared :
. . . in former times in the providence of God there were two
great kings in the world, the prophet Solomon and Raja Iskandar
. . . Now in our time also in the providence of God there are
two great kings in the world. In the west we are the great king,
and in the east Sri Sultan Perkasa Alam (Iskandar Muda) is the
king who is great and who upholds the religion of God and his
Prophet. 15
Later the Pasha of Yemen confirmed the envoys account of Atjeh
from some Atjehnese pilgrims in Medina,. It was these hajis who brought
back to the great Atjehnese religious teacher Sheikh Shamsud-din of Pasai
the story of all that had occurred in Turkey.10
For a yet more fanciful account we might turn 'to the ever-popular
Malay romance of Hang Tuah. This legendary hero of the last years of
the Malacca Sultanate is pictured on a variety of adventurous missions for
his Sultan. After visits to Majapahit, India and China, he is finally sent
to Rum to buy cannons for Malacca. Though much embroidered, the basic
story may well be borrowed from the Bust anu's-Salatin.1T
Thus the notion that diplomatic relations were established with
Turkey, and cannons received in exchange for tribute, is well established
in the indigenous literature. Of the sources mentioned, the Bustanu's-
Salatin is much the most reliable in matters of chronology. It would therefore
be reasonable on the basis of the Indonesian materials alone to assume
that a relationship of this type was established during the reign of Sultan
Alau'd-din Ri'ayat Shah al-Kahar (15377-1571), and that this became the
basis for differently dated stories in the other sources. As Professor Boxer's
article makes abundantly clear, the Portuguese (as well as Turkish) sources
regarding this contact also focus almost exclusively on the reign of al-Kahar.
It seems to the writer that the Portuguese material systematically
presented for the first time by Professor Boxer lends further support to
an interpretation giving to Turkey a substantial role in the fortunes and
alliances of the Muslim states of Southeast Asia during the sixteenth century.

14 T. Iskandar (ed.) 'De Hikajat Atjeh', VKI, XXVI (The Hague, 1958) p. 167
(p. 239 of MS).
15 Ibid. p. 167 (p. 238 of MS).
i« Ibid. pp. 62-4 and 157-69 (pp. 215-42 of MS). Also Djajadiningrat, pp. 177-8.
17 Hikajat Hang Toeah (2nd ed. Balai Pustaka, Batavia, 1948), II. 237-87.

Ill
 A.J.S. REID

What follows is an attempt to relate some Southeast Asia developments

to the wider sphere of Turkish and Islamic politics.
Atjeh first emerged as a strong local power by the conquest of Daja
to the West (1520) and Pidie and Pasai to the East (1521 and 1524),
during the reign of Sultan Ali Mughayat Shah (15167-1530). The two
latter conquests involved the defeat of substantial Portuguese forces, and
made North Sumatra safe from the Western challenge for several centuries
to come. Atjehnese power during this early period rested in large part on
weapons captured from the Portuguese, and probably also on the support
of the Muslim commercial element from the old trading centres of Pasai
and Pidie. But Atjeh was not yet in a position to threaten overseas enemies
such as Portuguese Malacca. The relatively inactive decade following the
capture of Pasai may have been a period of consolidation, or of internal
dispute under Salah-ad-din (1530-37?) — "a weakling, not fit to rule",
according to Malay sources.18
Meanwhile Muslim trade in the Indian Ocean was recovering from
the Portuguese onslaught, which had incapacitated it almost completely
during 'the first two decades of the century.19 The date 1534 given by
Boxer,20 or "a few years" after 1526 by Meilink-Roelofsz,21 for the first
documented Atjehnese pepper-shipment to the Red Sea forms 'the back-
ground to a new burst of expansion in the late 1530's. It seems more
than likely that the Muslim shipping of this period was centred not at
Banda Atjeh, the capital of the weak Salah-ad-din, but at Pasai, where his
energetic brother Ala'ad-din (later Sultan) held local authority.22 The
valley of the Atjeh river, behind Banda Atjeh, had never produced much
pepper, the cultivation of which had long been centred in Pasai and Pidie.
Pinto's reference to a treaty giving the Turks a factory at Pasai about
1540 23 is evidence that the trade continued to be centred there for some
tune after the shift of the political centre. If the first Atjehnese attack on
Malacca, in 1537, predated Ala'ad-din's assumption of the throne, it is
likely that the expedition was nevertheless launched by Ala'ad-din from
Pasai.
The exact date of Ala'ad-din's overthrow of his elder brother is
unclear, though it cannot be later than 1539 and may have been as early
as 1537. 24 The events leading up to this coup and the beginning of a

i« Djajadiningrat, op. cit., p. 152.

u Donald Lach, Asia and the Making of Europe, I, ii, p. 107. R.B. Serjeant,
The Portuguese off the South Arabian Coast, Hadrami chroniches (Oxford,
1963), p. 14.
20 Ibid., p. 3.
si M.A.P. Meilink-Roelofsz, Asian Trade and European Influence in the In-
donesian Archipelago between 1500 and about 1630 (The Hague, 1962),
p. 145.
t'~ Iskandar, 'De Hikajat Atjeh', p. 38.
23 See below, p. 109.
2< Iskandar, loc. c i t Djajadiningrat, op. cit., pp. 152-3.

112
 SIXTEENTH CENTURY TURKISH INFLUENCE

more energetic period of expansion thus coincide with the major Turkish
enterprise in the Indian Ocean — Sulaiman Pasha's abortive expedition
co Diu in 1537-8.
Following Pinto's account,25 the major antagonist of Atjeh during
the late 1530's would have been an extensive Batak state which had access
to the north as well as the west coast of Atjeh, but whose centre was
probably in he region of the Singkil river (the s'till-Batak area of Tapanuli).
The warfare between Atjeh and the Bataks turned in favour of the former
only after :
There came to the Tyrant (Ala'ad-din) 300 Turks, whom he had
long expected from the Streight of Mecqua, and for them had sent
four vessels laden with pepper.
These hardy warriors with their up-to-date arms enabled Atjeh to
drive the besieging Bataks back to the hills with considerable losses. A
Batak emissary was thereupon sent for help to Malacca, where he awaited
the new Governor de Faria and Pinto in June, 1539. 20
This first recorded instance of substantial Turkish help for Atjeh
must have taken place sometime in 1537 or 1538. Thus either just before
or just after the great Turkish attempt to smash the Portuguese fleet under
Suleiman Pasha. We know that Suleiman despatched envoys to Gujerat and
the Arabian ports in 1537 to gain 'their support for the attack on the
Portuguese, 27 Did he also send envoys to Atjeh, which must have been
well known to him from its pepper shipments? If so, this might have
served as a stimulus for the first Atjehnese attack on Malacca in September
1537, and also for a correspondence between Johor and Atjeh in the autumn
of 1538 about a joint attack on the infidels at Malacca.28 It might, on
the other hand, be argued that the Turkish troops noted by Pinto were
a more fortuitous windfall for Atjeh from Sulaiman Pasha's unwieldy
army of 20,000 many of whom "dispersed because the people of India
had induced them away" during their abortive siege of Diu in September,
1538.20 In that case the dating of the events described by Pinto would
have to be compressed into a few months preceding his arrival, in Malacca.
Whatever the dating, it also seems likely that the Turkish contact may
have provided legitimation in Ala'ad-din's eyes for his seizure of the throne
from his elder brother.
25 Pinto's unreliability has been demonstrated in the case of his supposed
adventures in Siam and elsewhere, but not for matters in Sumatra which
were of more immediate concern to his probable informers in Malacca. His
account is confirmed in general terms by some other Portuguese references
(v. MacGregor, in JMBRAS, 28, ii, p. 82) and has been consistently followed
by historians of the area.
26 The Voyages and Adventures of Fordinand Mendez Pinto, the Portuguese,
trans. H. Cogan, introd. A. Vamberry (London, 1891), pp. 31-2.
2T Serjeant op c i t , pp 76-7 and 79-80. E. Denison Ross, "The Portuguese in
India and Arabia 1517-1538", JRAS, 1922, p. 15.
28 I.A. Macgregor, 'Johore Lama in the Sixteenth Century', JMBRAS, 28
ii. p . 8 i .
20 Hadhrami chronicle al-Sana al-Bahir, quoted Serjeant, p. 97.

113
 A.J.S. REID

The utter defeat of the 1538 expedition and his own inability to
control his agents so far away must have decided the 'Grand Turk', Sultan
Suleiman 'the Magnificent, to concentrate his major designs on Europe.
Later Turkish initiatives in the Indian Ocean were of very minor signifi-
cance, with the possible exception of the fleet of Piri Bey, smashed by
the Portuguese in the Persian Gulf in 1551. 30
In Atjeh itself the influx of Turkish men and weapons enabled
Ala'ad-din Ri'ayat Shah al-Kahar to defeat the Bataks and then to turn
his forces against Aru, a once-mighty state in northeastern Sumatra. In
this he was again successful, according to Pinto's account, because of the
continued receipt of Turkish soldiers and weapons from Egypt. One of
Atjeh's war-leaders, Pinto recounts, was an Abyssinian called "Mamedecan",
who a meneth (or thereabout) before was come from Juda [Jidda],
to confirm the new league made by the Bassa of Caire, on the
behalf of the Grand Signior, with the Tyrant of Achem whereby
he granted him a custom house in the Port of Pazem [Pasai]. 81
Shortly afterward, however, probably still during 1540, the Atjeh-
nese were expelled from Aru by a combined force of Malays from Johor,
Riau, Siak, Perak and elsewhere led by the Sultan of Johor, who had
married the widow of the slain ruler of Aru. In the course of the battles
of 1540 for possession of Aru most of the Turkish elite troops on the
Atjehnese side appear to have perished.32 Thus once again Atjeh's
expansion was halted. During the 1540's and 50's we hear less of Sultan
Ala'ad-din al-Kahar, whose main concern appears to have reverted to
strengthening his economic position as the major supplier of pepper for
the Muslim trade. Pepper growing spread down the west coast of Sumatra
to the south of Minangkabau, and Atjeh's commercial control followed
with it.
The only major blow by Atjeh against the Christian intruders
during this period was an attack on Malacca in 1547, but this was not
large by Atjehnese standards. A detachment of Turks was again noted
among the assailants, but the Portuguese chroniclers do not mention any
specific alliance. These Turks may be explained in the context of the
steadily-expanding numbers of traders from the Red Sea who must have
been calling at Atjeh during the period.
Indeed it was the ruler of Johor, rather than Atjeh, who appeared
to the Malacca Portuguese as "the man most feared in this fortress", Or
"our capital enemy" during these two decades. '!3 The sources do not
provide evidence that the forces of international Islam began to look to
Johor to rally their eastern flank. But on a local level Johor did take
so M. Longworth Dames, 'The Portuguese and Turks in the Indian Ocean in
the Sixteenth Century", JRAS, 1921.
si Pinto, op. cit., p. 63.
32 Ibid. pp. 62-76.
38 Macgregor, pp. 84-5, quoting respectively Simao de Mello, 1545, and Luis
Frois, S.J., 1555.

114
 SIXTEENTH CENTURY TURKISH INFLUENCE

this role upon itself. In 1550-51 it organised an anti-Portuguese coalition

in the name of Islam, which included Japara, Portugal's main rival in the
Moluccan spice trade, as well as the smaller Malay states of the Peninsula.34
The 1560's, on the other hand, saw Atjeh suddenly reemerging as
the formidable eastern bastion of the Muslim countercrusade against the
Portuguese. Professor Boxer's paper warns us against seeing this political
connection as the result of a wholly new commercial link with the Red
Sea ports. The 1560's were merely the peak period for a trade which
had steadily been gathering strength at the expense of the Portuguese since
the 1530's. Its growth is explained in part by the increasing volume and
strength of Gujerati and Arab shipping in the Indian Ocean in relation to
the Portuguese. In part, also, it relates to events in Indonesia. By the
1560's the rich new pepper-plantations must have been established around
Tiku, Pariaman and Indrapuri on Sumatra's West Coast, and brought
under Atjehnese control. 35 Moreover the Muslim merchants of Japara and
Banda were steadily eroding Portuguese control of the Moluccan spice
hade, especially since the 1550's. Much of their spice trade was carried
to the West through Atjeh.
While, therefore, we can safely assume the existence of a stable
and expanding commercial connection between Turkey and Atjeh from
1540 onwards, the evidence for political connections is markedly discon-
tinuous. Throughout the 1560's there are Portuguese, Turkish or Venetian
references to political relations between the 'two countries, where there
had been silence for the two previous decades.
Of the three sources of information, the Turkish are the most
important and specific. They include a few letters from Sultan Selim II
dated 1567-68 about a planned expedition to Sumatra. The first, dated
16 Rabi'ul-awal 975 H (20 Sept. 1567), was Selim's lengthy reply to the
embassy of Sultan Ala'ad-din Ri'ayat Shah al-Kahar. It describes how the
Atjehnese envoy, Husain, had requested help against the kafirs, who had
been harrassing traders between Mecca and Sumatra, and oppressing
Muslims in Calicut and Ceylon as well as the Sumatran area. Selim had
decided to grant the request for aid, by sending a fleet of 15 galleys and

34 H.J. de Graaf, 'De Regering van Panembahan Senapati Ingalaga', VKI

XIII (1954), pp. 33-4; P.A. Tiele, 'De Europeërs in den Maleischen Ar-
chipel', BKI, 28 (1880), p. 321; Meilink-Roelofsz, op. cit., p. 149. The main
source for all these references is again Couto.
so At Ala'ad-din al-Kahar's death in 1571, and probably for some time pre-
viously, his son Raja Mughal was established as Atjehnese viceroy in
Pariaman. Judging by 18th and 19th Century experience, Atjehnese methods
of growing pepper on virgin soil began to produce diminishing returns
within less than a century as a result of soil exhaustion (v. especially
J Gould 'Sumatra — America's Pepperpot, 1784-1873' Essex Institute,
Historical Collections, 122 (1956), pp. 207-39 and 297-319). The old centres
of Pidie and Pasai, still at their peak in Tome Pires's time, were unimportant
by the end of the century. We may, therefore, suggest a shift in the centre
of pepper-growing sometime in the middle decades of the sixteenth century
with the rapid growth of the west coast plantations.

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 A.J.S. REID

2 barks, with numerous master gunsmiths, soldiers, and artillery. The

Admiral of Suez, Kurtoglu Hizir Reis, was instructed to command the fleet,
to crush Atjeh's enemies, and to 'take the 'old fortress' from the hands of
the kafir. This letter was sent to Ala'ad-din by the hand of a Turkish
envoy, Mustaffa Camus.30
Another letter of approximately the same date gave instructions to
Kurtoglu Hizir about the expedition. Salaries and provisions for the men
would be provided for a year, after which the Sultan of Atjeh would have
to support them if he still required them. 37
Four months later, on 5 Rajah 975 H (5 Jan. 1568), Selim wrote
to the Atjehnese envoy Husain. He regretted the Sumatra campaign had
to be delayed because of a rebellion in the Yemen, which the fleet of
Kurtoglu Hizir had been diverted to suppress. God willing the rebellion
would be crushed, and the expedition to Sumatra would take place "next
year" [i.e. 'the Hijra year 976 beginning June 1568]. 38
Beyond this the primary sources do not go. We know much about
the suppression of the Yemen revolt, finally completed by Sinan Pasha
in 1571. But it is only the Atjehnese and Portuguese sources which give
us grounds for thinking that at least the large cannon and the gunsmiths
sent out by Selim must have reached Atjeh, and possibly a few of the
ships.This cannot, however, have been in time for the major Atjehnese
attack on Malacca which lasted from 20 January to 25 February 1568.
The Western sources, on the other hand, suggest a much earlier
military alliance between Atjeh and Turkey. The Venetians, in particular,
reported as early as 1562 that an Atjehnese ambassador was in Constan-
tinople to ask for artillery to fight the Portuguese.39 In 1564 Venetian
sources already stated that Turkey had sent arms and gunners to Atjeh.40
The earlier report receives a little support from the story of the sea-battle
off the South Arabian coast in March-April 1561. According to Couto's
version of this, the large ship from Atjeh which the Portuguese attacked
was laden with gold and jewelry for the Sultan of Turkey — a possible
indication that the Atjehnese were anxious to negotiate with him. 41
The Portuguese sources are less specific as to chronology. The
most quoted is Couto's Capitulo 21 of Decada VIII, which describes the
preparations of Sultan 'Alabaradi' to take Malacca. He sent rich presents
to the Grand Turk, and promises of all the spices of the Indonesian region
cnce Malacca was back in Muslim hands. The Ottoman Sultan responded
immediately to his request for aid, sending "500 Turks, many large bom-
bards, abundant ammunition, many engineers and masters of artillery".
Other Atjehnese ambassadors were sent to 'Baroche' (Bijapur ?), Demak,
36 Saffet Bey, 'Bir Osmanli Filosunun Sumatra Seferi', TOEM, 10 (1912), pp.
606-9. See appendix to this paper for the Turkish materials.
37 saffet, op. cit., 11 (1912), p. 680.
38 Ibid., loc. cit.
39 Krucq, 'Beschrijving der kanonnen', p. 546.
40 Tiele, op. cit. p. 424.
4i Boxer, p. 5. Serjeant, p. 110.

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 SIXTEENTH CENTURY TURKISH INFLUENCE

Calicut, and the Coromandel coast rulers seeking assistance. All sent help
except Demak, which was so afraid of the insatiable ambition of the Sultan
of Atjeh that it put his ambassadors to death.
All this, Couto continues, was communicated to the viceroy Antonio
Noronha when he assumed office in 1564. He immediately ordered rein-
forcements for 'the Malacca fortress to defend it against the Atjehnese.
Couto then immediately continues in the following chapter, to relate the
major Atjehnese attack of 1568. 42 It may therefore be reading too literally
to assume all the preparations attributed by him to Atjeh took place before
1564. 43 Rather may we assume that they were the preparations for the
1568 attack, but were sufficiently apparent already in 1564 to alarm
Noronha.
Couto is certainly not alone in referring to Turkey's help for Atjeh
earlier than 1568. According to Jesuit sources, a Turkish ambassador was
in Atjeh when some Portuguese vessels arrived there to trade during 1565.
Although Atjeh had previously not been at war with Malacca, the inter-
vention of the Turk resulted in the Portuguese being given the choice of
conversion to Islam or martyrdom.41 The same Jesuit letters, written in
Malacca at the end of 1566, indicate that an attack on Malacca was expected,
and that men and artillery for it had been supplied from Turkey, "for
the Turks merchandise with this king, who, every year, sends him many
loaded vessels to Mecca". 45
Couto is quite clear that during the attack of January-February 1568
the Atjehnese were aided by about 4U0 Turks, as well as some help from
Japara and Calicut. But the Jesuits insist that Turkish assistance to Atjeh
continued after the failure of that attack. A letter from Malacca at the
end of 1568 reported that the Malaccans were still living in fear, because
the Sultan of Atjeh was continuing his warlike preparations, and his al-
liances with Muslims in India, Malaya and Java. Because of his great
commerce with Turkey, "the Turk provides him with men, gunners and
artillery with which he makes war against us". 4 6 This pressure was main-
tained, and gave the Portuguese some of their most anxious moments in

42 Diogo De Couto, Da Asia (Lisbon, 1786) VHI, caps. 21 and 22.

43 As assumed by Tiele, op. cit. p. 425; De Graaf, p. 68; Djajadiningrat, p. 155;
Meilink-Roelofsz, p. 149; and Professor Boxer, p. 8. My doubt is strengthened
by Couto's introduction to his account of Atjehnese plans, which states that
after mastering Pedir, Pasai and Aru, only Malacca stood in his way to
becoming emperor of the Malays. The conquest of Aru and Johor are usually
dated in 1564.
44 Letters of L. Peres, Malacca, November and 2 December, 1566, in J. Wickl
(ed.), Documenta Indica VII (MHSI 89, Rome, 1962), pp. 33-4 and 89. Tiele,
pp. 425-6, doubts the validity of this story, but he has it only from a se-
condary Jesuit sources.
45 Wicki, p. 88.
4« Letter of C. da Costa, Malacca, 6 Dec. 1868, Wicki, op. cit. pp. 529-30.
Also ibid. pp. 514-5 and 574-5.

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 A.J.S. REID

Asia, until in 1570-71 Bijapur, Ahmadnegar (Gujerat), Calicut and Atjeh

launched a concerted offensive against Portuguese possessions. This of-
fensive was halted in a series of notable battles, particularly at Malacca
on 21st October, 1570. 47
Combining our various sources, the following reconstruction of the
events of the 1560's appears the most probable. The growing commerce
between the Red Sea and Sumatra must have brought a steady trickle
of Turkish traders and adventurers to Atjeh, whose military expertise
often proved useful to Atjeh. The Portuguese attacks against this commerce
from 1554 encouraged plans for large-scale attacks against the Portuguese
menace. From as early as 1561-2 Atjeh was sending envoys to Constan-
tinople to procure supplies and men, and to try to interest the Ottoman
Sultan in a major military operation. These efforts must have succeeded
in obtaining substantial reinforcements of Turkish mercenaries at least by
1568, and probably as early as 1564, when they may have helped Atjeh
to make a military comeback by conquering Aru and Johor. Some arms
were probably also purchased. There may even have been some official
Turkish response about the period 1564-6, though probably not at the
level of the Sultan himself. The embassy of Husain, which probably covered
the years 1565-8, achieved much more spectacular success. After the
delay caused by the death of Sulaiman in 1566, Selim II was sufficiently
impressed by the opportunities in the Indian Ocean to decree a major
expedition. His decision, taken in the autumn of 1567 soon after he had
established himself in power, is notable as marking a change of direction
for Turkish policy. The decision must have reached Atjeh well before the
end of 1567, and produced immediate preparations for an attack on Ma-
lacca. On January 20th the attack began without the expected Turkish
fleet, probably because Ala'ad-din had already heard the bad news that
Kurtoglu Hizir had been diverted to Yemen, but could not delay his own
plans once the preparations for an attack had been finalised.
Kurtoglu Hizir and his fleet never reached Atjeh. But the importance
the Atjehnese gave to the cannons, the flag, and the gunsmiths makes it
reasonably certain that these at least were sent, along with some sort of
imperial message. They probably reached Atjeh during 1568 or 1569, and
strengthened her considerably in relation to her Indonesian rivals. They
must also have encouraged further thoughts of a pan-Islamic front against
the Portuguese, which had its culmination in the manoevres of 1570-1.
The burst of Islamic solidarity with Indian states soon faded, but
its effects in the Indonesian region were felt for another decade. Indeed
the death of Ala'ad-din Ri'ayat Shah al-Kahar in 1571 appears to have
reduced some of the fears of Atjeh among her neighbours. His successor
Ah Riayat Shah (1571-8) showed a more genuine desire to win Johor
round to an alliance against the kajirs. It was probably in the early 1570's
that he sent one of the great cannons he had received from Turkey to
47 Wicki, Documenta Indica VTU (MHSI 91, Rome, 1964), pp. 488-9. Danvers

118
 SIXTEENTH CENTURY TURKISH INFLUENCE

Johor to symbolise this alliance.48 In 1573 Atjeh appealed successfully

to the militant Queen of Japara for a joint attack on Malacca, which
took place in stages during 1573 and 1574. The Japara fleet arrived before
Malacca only after the Atjehnese had retired. Johor too played a supporting
role in 'this alliance, as the Japara ships were reported to have called
there on their way to the attack. 49 The alliance with Johor appears to
have flourished thereafter for the remainder of Ali Riayat Shah's reign
in Atjeh. According to one Portuguese account it was sealed by a royal
marriage between the ruling houses.B0
The two decades from 1560 to 1580 must be seen as the highest
point for the military fortunes of Islam in Southeast Asia. During this
period the Portuguese were consistently on the defensive. Atjeh dominated
the Straits of Malacca, with fitful support from Johor and Japara, while
the Muslim traders of Japara, Grisek, Ternate and the Banda islands gained
the upper hand in the eastern archipelago. How much weight should we
give to Turkish intervention in bringing about this greater militance and
cohesion on the part of the Muslim states?
The failure of the Muslim powers to unite in the sixteenth century
has been much discussed. It should not, however, surprise us. There were
no precedents in Southeast Asia, and few in the Muslim world, for states
to undertake a joint enterprise on a basis of mutual equality and respect.
Boundaries were not clearly defined, and the strongest states were in-
fluenced by notions of universal empire inherited from the older Indianised
states. Given in addition the basic commercial rivalry of many of the states,
it is small wonder that the ambitions of the strong were always suspect. 1
More remarkable than this background of disunity, it seems to me,
are the tentative ventures that were made during the 1560's and 1570's
towards a Muslim alliance. Islam was the only basis for such an alliance.
But we must not forget that the political unity of Islam is a doctrine deep-
rooted in scripture and history, however distant from practice. Nineteenth
century evidence supports the conclusion that the ideal of the Caliphate
had particular weight for otherwise disunited Muslims in Southeast Asia.
The Malay literature suggests that this was no less strong in the sixteenth
century. At a point in time when the illustrious name of Rum and the
prestige of the Caliphate were supported by the immense military power
of Suleiman the Magnificent, the possibility of a common crusade under
Turkish leadership need not have seemed absurd.
Of course we should not press this too far. The only Muslim
powers in Southeast Asia which appeared susceptible to the pan-Islamic
ideal were Atjeh, Japara, Ternate, Grisek, and to some extent Johor. As
Mrs. Meilink has reminded us, these were all states which participated in
the Muslim spice trade from Ternate through Java and Atjeh to the West.
Consequently they shared the international currents of the Muslim world.
48 The Voyage of John Huyghen van Linschoten to the East Indies (Hakluyt,
London, 1885) I, p. 110.
4» De Graaf, pp. 34-5. Macgregor, p. 86.
so Macgregor, pp. 86-8.

119
 A.J.S. REID

It was otherwise with the agrarian heartland of Java, whether this

was centred politically at Demak, Pajang, or Mataram. Except for a brief
phase under Demak at the beginning of the sixteenth century, this region
was economically and culturally more self-sufficient. Bantam, however, is
an odder omission from the list of Muslim allies. Founded by the crusading
Falatehan, who had left his native Pasai in protest against Portuguese
control there, it remained a part of the cosmopolitan Muslim maritime
world. Yet like Brunei and a few smaller states it was seldom at odds
with the Portuguese. This must be attributed to commercial rivalries with
Atjeh. Both attempted to monopolise the supply of pepper, and competed
for control of south-west Sumatra. Probably because of Atjeh's obstruct-
ionism in the West, Bantam seems to have sent most of its pepper to
China and Portuguese Malacca. 51
If we accept the importance of Turkish intervention on Southeast
Asian alliances, should we agree with the Jesuit who argued that the Sultan
of Atjeh was "vehemently opposed to all Christians, spurred on to this
by the Turks" ? M The above account would lead rather to the conclusion
that the initiative for an alliance was taken first by the Atjehnese. During
the early 1560's was fully occupied with his push to the west, and can
have had little thought of eastern adventure. Indeed it seems possible to
argue that it was precisely this Atjehnese initiative which drew Turkish
attention once more to the Indian Ocean, after Suleiman had abandoned
it in 1540. A recent historian of Ottoman expansion has suggested 1570
as a date when the abler Turkish statesmen were considering a shift in
emphasis from the Mediterranean in view of the newly-realised importance
of oceanic strategy.ea But even before this, in 1568, Selim had issued the
remarkable instruction to the Governor of Egypt to prepare a scheme for
a waterway between the Mediterranean and the Red Sea. 5i Following hard
upon the decision in favour of an Atjeh expedition, this indicates the im-
portance placed by Selim's advisers on establishing their naval power in
the Indian Ocean.
This new-found emphasis came to naught because it coincided with
the beginning of the decline in Turkish power. Suleiman was the last of
the really masterful Ottomans. The empire was kept in order for a con-
siderable time after his death in 1566 by the talented ministers he had
gathered around him — especially the Vezir Sokolli. At the latter's death
in 1578 the empire became a prey to weakness and corruption at the

51 A clear example of this rivalry appears from the Turkish merchant the
Dutch encountered in Bantam in 1596, who was unable to return through
Atjeh because the Sultan was seizing all traders who came from Bantam.
J.C. van Leur, Indonesian Trade and Society (The Hague, 1955), pp. 3-4.
52 Letter of De Ribera (Macau), October 1568, in Wicki VII, p. 514.
53 W.E.D. Allen, Problems of Turkish Power in the Sixteenth Centurv (London,
1930), p. 30.
8« I.H. Uzuncarsili, Osmanli Tarihi H l / i (Ankara, 1951), pp 31-3

120
 SIXTEENTH CENTURY TURKISH INFLUENCE

centre, leaving the Janissaries as the effective power.BS The last Turkish
enterprise in the Indian Ocean was the very individualistic one of Ali Beg
(1580-9) who relied more on bluff than power in gaining brief recognition
from a number of East African states. His capture by the Portuguese in
1589 ended Ottoman naval power east of Aden. 56 The deterioration of
Ottoman power in the Yemen, complete by 1635, removed even the base
from which earlier fleets had set out.
In Atjeh, too, a period of weakness was inaugurated by the death
of Sultan AU Ri'ayat Shah in June, 1578. After a rapid succession of
three rulers, Ala'ad-din Mansur Shah was called from Perak to assume a
more shaky throne, and was not well obeyed by his new subjects, according
to a Portuguese source.57 The alliance with Johor collapsed, and war
had broken out again by 1582. The Portuguese could again rely on the
passive support of one or the other of their Muslim neighbours.
In India too, the Portuguese were able to establish cordial relations
with the Moghul ports in Gujerat towards the end of the century, and to
dominate even more the trade of the western Indian ocean. The traffic in
Gujerati ships between Atjeh and the Red Sea evidently survived as late
as 1598. 58 With the coming of English and Dutch shipping to Atjeh,
however, it quickly dwindled. In their dealings with Atjeh both Britain and
Holland were careful to stress their opposition to Spain/Portugal, and their
friendship with Turkey. 59 Thus the simple opposition between the forces
of Islam and the 'Franks' which had been fought for a century on so
many fronts, no longer met the needs of the period.
Though the political link with Turkey appears to have been almost
completely broken after 1580, Atjeh at least retained a measure of Turkish
influence for some time to come. This was most notable in the military
field. Atjehnese military tactics, military engineering, and artillery were
famous long after their Turkish tutors had departed. An example was
their capture of Deli in 1612 by the use of trenches, even though the
town was skillfully defended by the Portuguese.00 The palace guard
maintained by Iskandar Muda (1607-36) was remarkably similar to the
Turkish body of Janissaries. It was composed of military slaves, captured
from the enemy when young and trained rigorously in the arts of war.01

»5 E.S. Creasy, History of the Ottoman Turks (London, 1878), pp. 224-5.
56 Allen, pp. 32-3. Longworth Dames, JRAS, 1921, pp. 25-8.
57 Macgregor, p. 88. Iskandar, p. 39.
58 Boxer, pp. 17-18.
58 The Voyages of Sir James Lancaster to Brazil and the East Indies 1591-1603
(Hakluyt, London, 1940), pp. 94-5, and 97-8. The Voyages and Works of
John Davis the Navigator (Hakluyt, London, 1880), pp. 142-3.
6'i Beaulieu, 'Voyage to the E a s t Indies', in John Harris (ed.), Navigantium
atque Itinerarium Bibliotheca (London, 1705) I, p. 250.
t: Ibid. p. 251.

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 A.J.S. REID

The control of these considerable military resources on the Turkish

model, placed Atjehnese rulers on a perilous pinnacle of power. They
were in a position to tyrannise over their subjects to a greater degree than
most Indonesian rulers. In the case of Iskandar Muda in particular, the
picture we have of a court riddled with suspicion and intrigue, of a closely-
guarded palace reserved for the numerous royal women, is more reminiscent
of a Middle-Eastern state than the more patriarchal style of Indonesian
sultanates. It was clearly force, rather than the proverbial loyalty of the
Malay, which kept the Atjehnese state together.62
Culturally too, Atjeh retained a closer contact with the Muslim
countries of the West — though here it was the Arabs rather than the
Turks who had something to offer. From the 1570's the chronicles are
dotted with the names of eminent theologians from Egypt, the Hejaz,
Yemen and Gujerat who had come to teach in Atjeh. 63 Schools four.shed,
and a knowledge of Arabic was widespread among the upper classes. Many
of Atjeh's diplomatic letters in the early seventeenth century appear to have
been written in Arabic, including the one sent to Queen Elizabeth with
Lancaster. 64
To conclude, then, it is possible to discern two distinct periods at
which Turkish intervention was significant in Southeast Asia. The first took
place in connection with Suleiman Pasha's expedition to Gujerat in 1538;
the second during the peak of the commercial contact with the Red Sea
in the 1560's. In both cases Turkish influence was applied through, and
to the benefit of, Sultan Ala'ad-din al-Kahar. But in both cases, and parti-
cularly the second, this encouraged an unusual degree of cooperation among
some Muslim states of Southeast Asia. The diplomatic contacht of the 1560's
between Turkey and Atjeh reached the highest level, and was important in
the subsequent direction of both Tukish and Atjehnese policy. It has been
commemorated in a variety of forms in Malay and Atjehnese literature.

Wj See especially ibid. pp. 251-5.

68 Djajadiningrat, pp. 160-1.
«4 Lancaster, pp. 96 and 109-11.

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 SIXTEENTH CENTURY TURKISH INFLUENCE

APPENDIX
SOME TURKISH SOURCES FOR THE 'SUMATRA EXPEDITION'
The existence of Turkish references to the 'Sumatra expedition'
of the 1560's was first brought to the attention of Southeast Asian historians
by the article by Juynboll and Voorhoeve in the new edition of Encyclopedia
of Islam.1 Umortunately the effect of condensation and the misprint in the
conversion of the only Muslim date given make it in some respects a
misleading reference. Salih Ozbaran of SOAS and the University of Instanbul
was patient enough 'to go through some of the Turkish articles with me
providing a rough translation. As few Southeast Asian historians have a
knowledge of Turkish it may be useful to expand here on the content
of the various sources. I am very grateful to Mr. Ozbaran, and also to
Prof. Bernard Lewis, for the help they have given.
Much the most important source is article by the naval historian
Saffet Bey, which appeared in two parts in the standard journal of Ottoman
history during 1912. 2 Though not in scholarly form, it is based on some
letters in the Ottoman archives as well as some published sources available
to him. The article begins by retelling the lada sa-chupak story from
'European sources' — which can hardly be other than the English trans-
lation of Snouck Hurgronje's The Achehnese. Saffet then quotes in full
the text of Sultan Selim's first firman on the subject, dated 16 Rabi'ul-awal
(20 Sept. 1567). The firman first recapitulates petition of the Atjehnese
'Vezir', Husain. Atjeh, it is claimed, has been left alone to fight the kafirs
up till now, and requests the help of Turkey's experienced soldiers. In the
regions around Atjeh there are 24,000 islands, whose Muslim inhabitants
are oppressed by the kafirs. The Portuguese have also bombarded and
taken prisoner merchants trading between Atjeh and Mecca. Furthermore
"the kafirs of Calicut and Ceylon" are harming the Muslim inhabitants
ol those places. Husain believes that an Ottoman fleet in those parts would
be able to crush the kafirs. He also requests that gunsmiths be sent to
Atjeh, and that orders be given to the governors of Yemen, Aden, Mecca
and elsewhere to assist Turkish soldiers on their way to Atjeh. The firman
concludes by granting Husain's petition. Fifteen galleys (kadirqa) and two
barks (barqa) are ordered to proceed from Suez, with a master gunsmith,
seven other gunsmiths, some soldiers, cannons, and smaller guns (tufenk).
The High Admiral Kurt Oglu Hizir is given command of 'the expedition,
with orders to crush Atjeh's enemies, to defend the Muslim religion, and
to take the old fortress belonging to the kafirs. Kurtoglu should make
arrangements for paying the salaries of his men.
The remainder of the first part of Saffet's article is taken up with
some comments on this letter, followed by a description of Suleiman
Pasha's 1538 expedition and of Turkish-Portuguese relations.

i Article, 'Atjeh', Encyclopedia of Islam, I, p. 743.

2 'Bir Osmanli Filosunun Sumatra Seferi', Tarihi Osmani Encument Mecmuasi.
10, pp. 604-14; 11, pp. 678-83.

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 A.J.S. REID

The second part begins with some further comments about the
Atjehnese embassy, which appear to be based on some unnamed Turkish
books and the evidence of "a man here called Lutfy, who went to India
and returned". Saffet states that the Atjehnese ambassador stayed in
Istanbul for two years, in a special place for foreign envoys, while Suleiman
was away on the Szigetvar campaign. Selim II however welcomed the envoy
after his father's death, and sent him on a Turkish vessel to Alexandria.
From there he was accompanied to Aden by other Turkish officials. Later
the Atjeh expedition was prepared in Suez, consisting of altogether 19
galleys and three barks. Kurtoglu Hizir Reds was to be commander and
Mehmet Bey deputy commander. They were to be at the disposal of the
Atjehnese Sultan for as long as he required them, though they had salary
and provisions for only one year.
To reinforce this last information Saffet quotes two further letters
from the Ottoman archives. The first instructed Kurtoglu 'to besiege the
kafirs' fort by land while his deputy Mehmet remained with the ships. The
second, dated 5 Rajab 975 (5 January, 1568), advised Sultan Ala'ad-din
Ri'ayat Shah that the expedition had been delayed because of the rebellion
in Yemen. "God willing the rebellion will be crushed, and the expedition
will proceed next year".
These are the only archival sources given. Saffet goes on to describe
Kurtoglu's activities in the Yemen, about which, he says, there is abundant
literature.
He quotes two later Turkish writers of the mid-seventeenth century
who refer to Atjeh. These are the geographers Katib Çelebi and Ebu Bekr
Dimiski, in their works respectively entitled Cihannuma and Cografya. They
appear to say little about the Atjehnese save that they were good fighters,
who had learned how to make guns and swords from the Turks.
Saffet closes his article with two interesting informants of his own
time. The first is a member of the Atjehnese royal family who met Saffet
in October, 1911, and told him the following story: Long ago Atjehnese
ambassadors went to Turkey seeking help. Two ships were sent in return
to Atjeh, with many soldiers and craftsman. The guns and flags from these
two ships remained in Atjeh until the war against the Dutch. Neither ships
nor men ever returned to Turkey. They established a Turkish village in
Atjeh, whose inhabitants still regard themselves as Turkish, though they
have assimilated completely into the Atjehnese culture. With the two ships
there also came a firman, which was still in the hands of the last Raja. 3
There also came with the ships a sermon, subsequently read in the mosque
every Friday. There were numerous guns, large and small. A Turkish

3 Tuanku Daud, who resigned the Sultanate in submitting to the Dutch in 1903.
and was exiled from Atjeh three years later.

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 SIXTEENTH CENTURY TURKISH INFLUENCE

ambassador named Seyyid el-Kemal was subsequently made commander

of an Atjehnese province. Some ulama also came with the ships, among
them Sheikh Abdur'rauf, Teungku Sheikh Kuala. 4
Finally, Saffet quotes a Turkish traveller, Abdul Aziz, who visited
Atjeh in 1898 and met uleebalang of Maureudu, Teuku Suleiman. This
ulèëbalang told him that there was one old Turkish cannon in the Gover-
nor's residence, and one in Java. Abdul Aziz related further "I saw n
Atjeh a Turkish cemetery and other people resembling Turks, but though
they know unfortunately little about Turkey they still say they are Turks.
I saw nothing else of interest"'.
The other Turkish historians who have noted the Atjeh affair
appear to rely on Saffet. But what is hyphothesis in Saffet's work has
become fact for the later writers. LH. UzuncarsiM, in his standard Osmanli
Tarihi,5 relates that Atjeh sent an embassy to Istanbul in 1565. The
ambassador had to wait for two years, until Salim II accepted his appeal
and decided to despatch over 20 ships. After the expedition was diverted
to Yemen, the equipment and gunsmiths were sent on to Atjeh in two ships.
The Turks who were sent to Atjeh settled there.
The nationalist historian Danismend6 goes further in asserting the
certainty of the expedition to Atjeh, and does not even mention the
diversion of Kurtoglu's fleet to Yemen. He stresses the sovereignty which
Selim assumed over Atjeh, and concludes by pointing out that after
Ottoman rule expanded to much of Europe, Asia and Africa, it finally
reached as far as Atjeh.

4 Abdur'rauf of Singkil, the national saint of Atjeh. He is known as Teungku

Sheikh Kuala because his keramat, or tomb, is at the mouth of the Atjeh
river. This linking of his name with the Turkish expedition seems to be
gratuitous.
r. Osmanli Tarihi II (Ankara, 1949), pp. 388-9.
« I.H. Danismend, Osmanli Tarihi Kronolojisi II (Instanbul, 1948), pp. 380-:.

325
 CHANGES IN THE PATTERN OF MALAY POLITICS,
1629 - C 1655 *
D. K. BASSET
CENTRE FOR SOUTHEAST ASIAN STUDIES
HULL UNIVERSITY

For almost a century before 1629, the sultanate of Acheh in north

Sumatra was the most formidable indigenous state on either side of Malacca
Strait. A stalemate had developed between Acheh and the Portuguese in
Malacca, with the Portuguese unable to maintain sufficient forces locally to
invade Acheh, and the Achinese unable to press their numerous sieges
of Malacca to a successful conclusion before the Portuguese relief fleet
arrived from India. Under additional Dutch pressure early in the seventeenth
century, the Portuguese seem to have been unable to render the assistance
against Acheh which they had given the Malay states on occasion in the
sixteenth century. In 1613-20 Johore, Pahang, Kedah and Perak were
conquered by Sultan Iskander Muda (1607-36) of Acheh. In most cases,
the defeated sultan was carried off to Acheh and a relative installed as
a vassal of Acheh. Sultan Ala'ud-din Ri'ayat Shah II of Johore escaped
when the Achinese overran Batu Sawar in June 1613, but died a few
years later. His half-brother, Raja Bongsu or Raja Seberang, was taken
to Acheh, married to Iskander Muda's sister, and sent back to Batu
Sawar as Sultan Abdullah Ma'ayat Shah (1613-23). When Abdullah
rejected Iskander Muda's sister and married a daughter of the Sultan o*
Jambi about 1617, he also rejected the Achinese tradition of hostility
to the Portuguese. For this, the Achinese pursued him from his new capital
at Lingga to Tambilan, where he died of "hartseer" (despair) in 1623.
Carpentier, the Dutch governor-general at Batavia, assumed that the once
mighty Johore empire had come to an end.
The Achinese raids on Johore, Perak, Pahang and Kedah in 1613-20
and the second war with Johore in or before 1623 must have thrown the
Malay Peninsula into confusion. Johore traditionally exercised suzerainty
over Siak, Rakkan and Kampar in east Sumatra and seems to have
had at least an alliance with Indragiri, as well as certain rights over
Tongkal, lying between Indragiri and Jambi. The sultan of Johore also
laid some claim to Deli, in north-east Sumatra, which Acheh overran in
1618-9. The Achinese raided Indragiri in 1624 and the local sultan moved
his capital far up river. English merchants who visited Indragiri ten years
later found the pepper cultivation still disrupted. The Achinese raids also
impaired the movement of pepper from Kedah, Johore, Pahang, Indragiri
and Kampar to Patani, on the east coast of the Malay Peninsula. Succes-
sive Dutch governors-general in the 1620's grew increasingly resentful of
Iskandar Muda's pretensions to a monopoly of Sumatran pepper, but they
planned to check Achinese expansion in 1625-6 only if it engulfed the key
Dutch supply-points of Jambi and Palembang. This situation never arose.
* Paper presented at the TVth IAHA Conference, Kuala Lumpur, 1968.

126
 CHANGES IN THE PATTERN O F MALAY POLITICS

The mistake Iskander Muda made, as Professor Boxer has shown,

was to attack Malacca, thusi stirring the Portuguese to a last naval
response they m'ght otherwise have eschewed. The Achinese expedition
against Malacca in 1627 was defeated by Francisco Cout'nho del Sem and
that of 1629 was annihilated in the Duyong river near Malacca by Nunô
Alvares Botelho. The Achinese laksamana, the maharaja lela, some 19,000
men, and all the Achinese ships and artillery were lost in 1629. On
the latter occasion, the fleets of Patani and Johore came enthusiastically, if
belatedly, to the assistance of the Portuguese. In the case of Johore, the
defeat of the Achinese was reward enough. In March 1630, the Dutchman
Jan Oosterwijck reported from Jambi that the Johorese were thrusting their
heads into the light once more.
They had sent envoys to Jambi and Palembang to press for the
return of subjects who had fled there from the Achinese and to demand
that Jambi restore Tongkal, lying between Jambi and Indragiri. This new
confidence may have been misplaced, in view of the fact that the Portu-
guese expedition sent to Perak in December 1629 to supplant Achinese
suzerainty in favour of Malacca had lost its effectiveness by April 1632,
but at least it signified the resilience of the Johore empire, whose epitaph
Carpentier had pronounced in 1624.
When Sultan Abdullah Ma'ayat Shah of Johore died on Tambilan
in 1623, Raja Bujang succeeded him as Sultan Abdu'l-Jalil Shah. Raja
Bujang was the son of the sultan, Ala'ad-din Ri'ayat Shah, who had escaped
from Batu Sawar during the Achinese attack of 1613. After a brief term
as sultan of Pahang in 1615-17, with Portuguese help arranged by his
father, Raja Bujang himself escaped the Achinese raid on Pahang in the
latter year. He then joined Sultan Abdullah Ma'ayat Shah on Lingga and
was nominated to succeed the deceased sultan in 1623 by the laksamana,
on condition that the throne ultimately reverted to Abdullah's two year
old son, Raja Bajau. Raja Bajau and Abdullah's widow fled to Jambi
after the Achinese raid of 1623 and Iskandar Muda demanded their sur-
render from the sultan of Jambi ineffectively in 1625. The laksamana,
however, probably conveyed Abdu'l-Jalil III to his own base on Bintang.
In 1629 the Portuguese described the real ruler of the Johore empire as
the mother of Sultan Abdu'l-Jalil, but in the 1630's the laksamana became
increasingly important in determining and implementing foreign policy.
The fact that Patani was a reliable ally of Johore between 1629
and 1645 suggests a flexibility in contemporary political alignments in the
peninsula, which one might not imagine from the restricted loyalties of
the colonial period. Indeed, one of the drawbacks of a history of Malaya
by state, e.g. Johore, is that it overlooks the political inter-action between
the states, especially between those states one has come to think of as
Malay or Thai. Patani played a dual role in the early seventeenth century,
because it usually sent the bunga emas to Ayuthia, but also had strong
personal ties with the ruling families in Johore and Pahang. In 1612 the
wife of the Raja of Siak, brother to Sultan Ala'ud-din Ri'ayat Shah II

127
 D.K. BASSET

of Johore, was the daughter of the Queen of Patani's younger sister. The
sister herself had then been married to the sultan of Pahang for twenty-
seven years. This did not prevent Johore threatening Pahang in 1612-13,
before the Achinese raid on Batu Sawar. A month after Batu Sawar fell,
the Sultan of Pahang, with his wife, paid a short visit to the Queen of
Patani. After Raja Bujang became Sultan Abdu'l-Jalal III of Johore in
1623, he seems to have made his authority good also in Pahang and may
have lived there in comparative safety, while the laksamana restored the
government in the Riau-Lingga archipelago. In 1629 the fleets of Patani,
Johore and Pahang came to help Portuguese Malacca against the Achinese,
and the Queen of Patani was at that time the aunt of Abdu'l-Jalil III of
Johore. When the Queen refused to acknowledge the overlordship of
Prasat T'ong, who had usurped the Siamese throne in 1630, Pahang, Johore
and the Portuguese were her allies. The Thai fleet, which should have
attacked Patani in conjunction with the army and a squadron of Dutch
ships in May 1634, turned back when confronted alone by the galleys of
the Portuguese, Johore and Pahang. It needed a second Siamese army and
the mediation of the sultan of Kedah to induce the queen of Patani to
send the bunga emas to Ayuthia again in 1636.
The resumption of formal political relations between Siam and
Patani did not weaken the links between Patani and Johore. Indeed, the
Siamese may have used the family ties between the latter states to extend
their influence to Johore. A Siamese envoy was at Bintang, visiting Abdul-
Jalil III and the laksamana, in December 1637. Ambassadors from Patani
who came to Batavia in December 1639 informed governor-general Van
Diemen that the Yang^di-Pertuan of Johore had married the Queen of
Patani. Abdu'l-Jalil III lived in Patani in 1639-41, returning to a new
capital on the Johore river opposite Batu Sawar only after the laksamana
had ensured Dutch protection against Acheh by assisting them to take
Malacca from the Portuguese. When envoys from Patani came to Ayuthia
in August 1640, bearing "gold and silver flowers" as tribute from the queen
Prasat T'ong, they were accompanied by an emissary from Abdu'l-Jalil,
also bringing a letter and present to the King of Siam. As we shall see,
the family links between Patani and Johore were maintained and perhaps
strengthened until 1645, when there was a reaction against the Johore
connection in Patani.
The freedom enjoyed by Johore in its alliances with the Portuguese
and Patani after 1629 probably reflected an easing of Achinese pressure
down Malacca Strait after the Portuguese victory over the Achinese in
that year. The pressure might have been renewed eventually, to the detri-
ment of Johore, had not the finalization of Dutch plans to take Malacca
introduced a new element into the situation. The choice of an indigenous
ally made by the Dutch in the forthcoming siege was of crucial importance.
The most desirable ally was obviously Acheh, because of the unwavering
anti-Portuguese attitudes of Iskandar Muda and because the Dutch hoped
to secure incidentally exclusive privileges in the Achinese pepper-producing
dependencies on the west coast of Sumatra. Beginning with Dirck Statlander's

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 CHANGES IN THE PATTERN OF MALAY POLITICS

mission to Acheh in 1632, the Dutch government at Batavia pursued both

these broad objectives, but had achieved no tangible result when Iskander
Muda died in 1636, after murdering his own son to ensure the succession
to the Achinese throne of Iskander Thani. Iskander Thani was the only
son of Raja Ahmad, who in turn was the son of Sultan Abdu'l Kadir of
Pahang (d. 1612). Both Raja Ahmad and Iskander Thani had been carried
off to Acheh after the Achinese raid on Pahang in 1617 and Thani had
married Iskander Muda's daughter, 'the future ruler, Taj-al-Alam.
As a Pahang man, Iskander Thani was more flexible in his attitude
towards the Portuguese than his father-in-law had been. The Portuguese,
confronted by a permanent Dutch naval blockade of Malacca since 1633,
also welcomed the prospect of a truce with Acheh. The English captain,
Weddel, who opened a factory of Courteen's Association in Acheh in April
1637, mentioned that Iskander Thani had already made peace with the
Portuguese. Portuguese ships from Malacca visited Acheh in July and
September 1638. On the first occasion, the Portuguese were well received
and Iskander Thani released some prisoners at their request, but the
visitors foolishly carried off four of the sultan's slaves. The captain and
crew of the second ship in September apparently behaved with a fidalgo-
like hauteur, which ill-reflected contemporary Portuguese difficulties in the
area or the Portuguese viceroy's anxiety for a permanent reconciliation.
Iskander Thani told Jochem Roelofsz van Deutecom, the Dutch envoy who
reached Acheh in April 1638, when the outcome of the Lusitano-Achinese
negotiations was stiil uncertain, that the Portuguese had offered him the
suzerainty, if not the sovereignty, of Malacca. When the Portuguese visitors
offended him in September 1638, however, Iskander Thani, with equal
arrogance, executed them, thus committing himself, as the Dutch governor-
general, Van Diemen, recognized, to a new war with the Portuguese. The
unfortunate legatee of these developments was the official Portuguese
envoy from the viceroy of Goa, Francisco de Souza de Castro, formerly
captain of Daman in India, who reached Acheh in October 1638. At Is-
kander Thani's request, the Dutch ships Rijswijck and Venhuysen captured
or drove ashore the Portuguese galiasses and the ambassador remained a
prisoner in Acheh until 1641. Van Deutecom, who returned to Batavia
from Acheh on 7 December 1638, brought Achinese assurances of col-
laboration in the coming siege of Malacca and the captive ambassador
advised Goa of this in 1640. Even the English factors of Courteen's As-
sociation in Acheh found Iskander Thani distinctly colder towards them
by March 1639, because of the truce the English East India Company
had made with the Viceroy of Goa in 1635.
Achinese participation in the Dutch conquest of Malacca seemed
certain at the end of 1638, but the inability of Iskander Thani to fulfil
his side of the bargain in the next three years had far reaching consequen-
ces on the indigenous political balance. Collaboration between Johore and
the Portuguese against Acheh had been more typical of the second half
of the sixteenth century than the war of 1586-7, in which the Portuguese
destroyed Johore Lama. After allying briefly with the Dutch in their

129
 D.K. BASSET

abortive attack on 1606, Johore had made peace with the Portuguese
again in October 1610 and had been their allies against Acheh in 1629
and in support of Patani in 1634. Protection against Acheh was the
fundamental need of Johore and the Dutch had failed to provide this
hitherto, whereas Portuguese support against Acheh was almost axiomatic.
For Johore to commit itself irrevocably to the Dutch side against the
Portuguese was therefore as great a shift in Johore's traditional foreign
policy as was Iskander Thani's short-lived peace with the Portuguese on
behalf of Acheh in 1637-8. The first intimation that Sultan Abdu'l-Jalil III
of Johore-Pahang wished for a Dutch alliance seems to have reached Ba-
tavia in March 1637. Van Diemen consistently preferred Acheh as an ally,
but he had no objection to a second ally. He sent Cornells Simonsz. van
der Veer to Bintang in December 1637 to assure Abdu'l-Jalil III and the
laksamana of Johore that the Dutch would give them every assistance
against the Portuguese. By the end of that year, Abdu'l-Jalil had banned
voyages by his subjects to Malacca, thus restricting Portuguese food supplies
even further. The key figure in committing Johore to an anti-Portuguese
alliance with the Dutch seems to have been the laksamana, whom Van
der Veer described as having "always been an instrument against the
Portuguese and a true friend of Holland". The Portuguese, Antonio Telles,
writing from Goa to Manuel de Souza Coutinho, the captain of Malacca,
in April 1640, emphasized the importance of recovering the good will of
Sultan Abdu'l-Jalil, "because our differences with the Malays have not
originated from them, but from the Laxamana, who wanted to stand up
against our Government". Abdu'l-Jalil III was certainly attracted by the
prospect of Dutch help to re-establish his capital at Batu Sawar, but the
laksamana took a considerable personal risk in pressing the new alignment,
because it seems to have incurred some criticism from orangkayas in
Johore.

A most important factor, therefore, was which of the potential

allies approached by the Dutch, Acheh or Johore, could make its pledges
effective. It will be recalled that Iskander Thani was the grandson of Sultan
Abdu'l Kadir of Pahang, whereas Abdu'l-Jalil III of Johore had, as Raja
Bujang, been placed on 'the throne of Pahang in 1615-7 and had married
the daughter of Raja Ahmad, Iskander Thani's father. After becoming
Sultan Abdu'l-Jalil III of Johore, Raja Bujang seems to have re-established
his authority in Pahang and it was Iskander Thani's intention to displace
him or at least to allow him to rule Pahang only as a vassal of Acheh.
In October 1638, an Achinese ambassador to Batavia asked Van Diemen
to postpone the Dutch assault on Malacca until the Achinese commander,
Maharaja Lela, had returned from an expedition to Johore and Pahang.
A month later the Dutch learned that the Achinese had overrun Pahang
and that Abdu'l-Jalil III had fled to Pätani, where he was to stay until
November 1641. Although Maharaja Lela of Acheh held Kuala Pahang
l mid-1642, the Achinese fleet was defeated by the laksamana of Johore
and returned, badly mauled, to Acheh by September 1639. On 16 Sep-
tember envoys from the laksamana of Johore reached Batavia bringing

X30
 CHANGES IN THE PATTERN OF MALAY POLITICS

assurances of Malay help in taking Malacca to Van Diemen, provided the

Dutch remained neutral in the Acheh-Johore war. Iskander Thani, on the
other hand, fearing an attack on his forces in Pahang by Johore, Patani
and the Portuguese, felt it necessary to husband his remaining galleys
against this eventuality and throughout 1639 he appealed to the Dutch
to give him naval support off Johore and Pahang, as well as delaying the
attack on Malacca.
Van Diemen realized that the subjugation of Johore by Acheh
would create a dangerous political imbalance in the area for the future
Dutch government of Malacca. Immediate military assistance from Johore
against Malacca was also preferable to Achinese help at some unspecified
date. On the other hand, Van Diemen still wished to keep open the pos-
sibility of Achinese help against Malacca. At the time, it seemed possible
to pursue all these objectives by promising Iskander Thani Dutch diplo-
matic mediation to safeguard his legitimate interests in Pahang after Ma-
lacca had been taken, while ensuring that in practice no Achinese attack
was made on Johore. Thus Van Diemen assured the Johorese envoys at
Batavia in September 1639 that if Johore gave effective help at the siege
of Malacca, restored Pahang to Iskander Thani, and showed moderation
towards Acheh in future, the Dutch Company would never allow Acheh
to attack Johore. The difficulty of reconciling the conflicting demands of
Johore and Acheh, without using force, was overlooked by the Dutch at
the time in the need to organize an immediate combined attack on Malacca.
The laksamana of Johore gave immediate proof of his good faith
by joining forces off Carimon with the Dutch blockade squadron under
Philip Lucasz. He handed over to the Dutch some Portuguese he had
captured en route, again forbade the inhabitants of the Johore empire to
carry foodstuffs to Malacca, and diverted to Bintang 17 Javanese rice-
carrying boats bound for Malacca. Lucasz. signed a formal agreement to
attack Malacca with the laksamana off Carimon in October 1639. Ap-
parently, Lucasz. gave pledges, without prior authorization from Batavia,
that the Dutch would restore to the Malays the artillery in Malacca which
had been captured from them at previous times by the Portuguese and
that the Dutch would assist in the resettlement and refortification of Batu
Sawar. Lucasz. also tried to initiate impromptu discussions between the
laksamana and the Achinese ambassadors homeward bound from Batavia,
but the latter had no authority to negotiate and the laksamana insisted on
Abdu'l-Jalil's independent sovereignty in Pahang. Envoys from Johore
came to Batavia in March 1640 to confirm the anti-Portuguese alliance.
The Dutch still hoped that their undertaking to induce envoys
from Johore to come to Acheh to restore Pahang to Iskander Thani and
recognize his overlordship, after the conquest of Malacca, would secure
Achinese participation in the siege. Instead, Iskander Thani was outraged
by the Dutch decision to accept help from his arch-enemy, Johore. His
Pahang loyalties gave him a false sense of priorities as sultan of Acheh.
He misjudged the indispensability of the long-delayed Achinese help to
the Dutch until it was too late for him to control events or reverse them.
131
 D.K. BASSET

He seems to have awoken to the inevitability of Dutch success only when

news of the alliance with Johore reached him. This was borne home even
more strongly in April 1640, when the Dutch conveyed to him the sup-
posedly welcome news that they had captured Galle from the Portuguese
in Ceylon. Iskander Thani then seems to have realized that Dutch power
was inexorably replacing that of the Portuguese in many parts of Asia
and that his influence vis-a-vis the Dutch would be materially diminished
if they captured Malacca without his help. Even had he wished to join
Johore as an ally of the Dutch — and this his pride would not stomach —
he could not mobilize his badly-mauled fleet in time to participate in the
landing at Malacca planned for August 1640. The most he could do,
through ambassadors who left Acheh for Batavia in July 1640 and reached
there in September, was to express his sense of outrage and suggest that
the Johore Malays would prove unreliable allies. Iskander Thani clearly
hoped that the Dutch siege of Malacca would fail and Jan de Meer, the
Dutch envoy to Acheh in April 1640, confirmed that the sultan would
prefer to see Malacca remain in Portuguese hands in these circumstances.
The sultan made a forlorn attempt 'to restore Acheh's dominant influence
with the Dutch by pledging Achinese aid in any subsequent attack on
Malacca.
The Dutch military commander, Sergeant Major Adriaan Anthonisz.,
landed his men on the north side of Malacca on 3 August 1640. About
two thousand Malays from Johore, Naning and Rembau ultimately came
to his support, under the joint command of Orangkaya Maharaja as local
laksamana, and Orangkaya Sibidi Raja, son of the laksamana of Johore
and uncle of Sultan Abdu'l-Jalil III. In these circumstances, Van Diemen
naturally told the Achinese ambassadors who reached Batavia in September
1640 that their offers of military assistance in a subsequent attack were
too late and that the current siege would be successful. He did, however,
try to placate Iskander Thani, with an eye to future Dutch privileges in
the Achinese-controlled west Sumatran pepper ports, by stressing that the
Malay troops were not allies (bondgenoten), like the Achinese, but only
necessary auxiliaries (benoodighde byloopers). Van Diemen also assured
the Achinese ambassadors that after the capture of Malacca, the Dutch
would press Sultan Abdu'l-Jalil III to send a tribute-bearing mission to
Acheh 'to acknowledge his misdeeds and to concede Iskander Thani's
legitimate rights, including the peaceful cession to him of Pahang. The
Achinese envoys, rightly, had grave misgivings about Johore's pliability
in this respect, but had to rest content with Dutch assurances that envoys
from Johore would accompany the Dutch commissioner to Acheh after
the fall of Malacca.
These placatory gestures by Van Diemen were never known to
Iskander Thani, because the Dutch commissioner, Joost Schouten, and the
returning Achinese ambassadors did not reach Acheh until 23 March 1641.
Iskander Thani died on 15 February 1641, but the letters of Jacob Com-
postel, the Dutch chief factor in Acheh from 1640 to 1642, reveal some
remarkable shifts in Achinese foreign policy before his death. On 22
September 1640 Compostel reported his recent efforts to lessen the

132
 CHANGES IN THE PATTERN OF MALAY POLITICS

sultan's fears that the Dutch might assist Johore to retake Pahang, where
the Achinese laksamana and the local bendafiara were still entrenched near
the kuala. Compostel's vague reassurances had little long-term effect. In
November 1640 the tension and depression in Acheh was heightened when
an ambassador from Gowa-Tello (Macassar), who had touched at Beng-
kalis, brought news that the fall of Malacca was imminent. The likely
repercussions of this event were discussed almost daily in the Achinese
state council. On 13-14 December 1640 Iskander Thani released the
captive Portuguese ambassador, Francisco de Souza de Castro, on parole
within the palace and returned his side-arms to him. Thereafter, De Souza
was shown every courtesy, including daily access to the sultan, who
assured 'the overjoyed ambassador that his capture in 1638 had been
instigated by the Dutch. According to Compostel, Iskander Thani advised
De Souza of his intention to send him to Malacca or Goa to negotiate
an alliance with the Portuguese.
Taken at its face value — and in the absence of Portuguese ma-
terial it must be taken thus — this reversal of over a century of Achinese
hostility towards the Portuguese is a revealing commentary on Iskander
Thani's new fear of the Dutch. It must also cause speculation as 'to the
course of Achinese foreign policy had Iskander Thani lived. When he died
on 15 February 1641, however, his widow and successor, Taj-al-Alam
(1641-75), reimprisoned De Souza and later surrendered him to Schouten,
to be ransomed to the Portuguese by the Dutch. Taj-al-Alam, who seems
to have been markedly religious and pacifically minded, may have been
genuinely convinced of Dutch good faith, in view of her consistently
accommodating policy towards them in 'the next two decades. She may
also have been aware of the initial insecurity of her own position in the
state. It is also possible that she lacked the experience to initiate a volte
face in foreign policy and was influenced by the pro-Dutch rather than
the anti-Dutch faction among her leading state councillors. These internal
groupings at court were certainly influential in the Dutch-Achinese nego-
tiations of the 1640's an 1650's.
The time had now come for the Dutch to reconcile their obligations
to Johore with their earlier assurances to Acheh. The Johore 'troops had
made a considerable, if indirect, contribution to the Dutch capture of Ma-
lacca on 14 January 1641, by constructing entrenchments, destroying
neighbouring plantations and orchards, and impeding the flow of rice to
the Portuguese defenders from Rakkan in east Sumatra. That the Malays
played this subordinate role, and indeed were used in a feint attack on
the south side of Malacca on the day of the final assault from the north,
was deliberate Dutch policy. The Malays never entered the 'town and
fortress of Malacca after the victory, because the Portuguese, in their last-
minute parley, insisted that they be kept out. Anthonisz., before his death
during the siege, had again promised the Johore commanders that 130
pieces of artillery, captured by the Portuguese from Johore in an old battle
at "Biday near Rootsche", would be restored to them. In fact, when the
Malay troops were sent home by the Dutch a week after the victory, about
133
 D.K. BASSET

50 small cannons and swivel guns were given them, together with presents
for the principal officers. It is doubtful that the new Dutch commander,
Kaartekoe, was deliberately ungrateful, but this limited required caused
resentment and exposed the laksamana of Johore to criticism from orang-
kayas who had opposed his pro-Dutch policy, or who now professed to
have opposed it.
The Dutch commissioner, Schouten, did not have an easy task, there-
fore, in persuading the laksamana of Johore to send envoys with him to
Acheh. Abdu'l-Jalil III was almost certainly not involved in this discussion,
because he was in Patani until November 1641. Schouten reached Malacca,
with the Achinese envoys returning from Batavia, and with the first Dutch
governor of Malacca, Joan van Twist, at the end of January 1641. Earlier,
Anthonisz. had promised Iskander Thani that he would convey a few tons
cf rice to the Achinese forces in Pahang. Early in February the Draak
left Malacca carrying the rice to Pahang, but also to land the Dutch
shahbandar of Malacca, Jan Jansz. Menie, in Johore to persuade the lak-
samana, to send envoys with Schouten to Acheh. During the siege of Ma-
lacca, the laksamana had moved from Bintang to Makam Tauhid (which
the Dutch rendered as "pleasant town"), opposite the ruined Batu Sawar,
to prepare a new capital for his sovereign. While Menie was en route to
Johore, the laksamana sent two envoys to Malacca to ask Van Twist for
the complete restitution of the Malay artillery held in Malacca and for
two yachts to escort Abdu'l-Jalil III to his new capital. Twist was unable
to comply, nor was he able to promote discussions between the laksamana's
emissaries and the Achinese ambassadors then with Schouten in Malacca.
As Schouten and the Achinese left Malacca for Acheh on 20 February,
letters of 14 February arrived from Menie and the laksamana in Johore.
The laksamana refused to send ambassadors to Acheh unless Iskander
Thani first initiated peace overtures and restored Deh, in north-east Su-
matra, to Johore. The laksamana cannot conceivably have consulted Sultan
Abdu'l-Jalil in Patani before making this reply, in a matter of days, and
his intention may have been to procrastinate rather than refuse. Menie,
who returned fruitlessly to Malacca on 24 February, was convinced that
the laksamana was being obdurate, encouraged by the artillery recently
sent him from Malacca, and that a full-scale Johore-Acheh war was likely.
Van Twist immediately pressed the laksamana very strongly to comply
with Dutch wishes, perhaps assuming again that the laksamana was the
de facto ruler of 'the Johore empire. On 8 March Tuan Said reached
Malacca from Johore to fulfil the embassy to Acheh and was later joined
by a second Malay. It is possible that the laksamana had consulted Sultan
Abdu'l-Jalil meanwhile, or that he considered this unnecessary, or that
he had risked acting on his own initiative under Dutch pressure. In any
case, the new role and enhanced prestige of the Dutch was as clear here
after the fall of Malacca as it was in Acheh.

Commissioner Schouten, of course, was not aware that Iskander

Thani was dead until he reached Acheh on 23 March 1641, although
rumours of this had reached Malacca by the time the Johore envoys sailed
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 CHANGES IN THE PATTERN OF MALAY POLITICS

to join him on that day. Long before Tuan Said and his colleague reached
Acheh, Schouten had induced Taj-al-Alam to conclude peace with Johore.
The Achinese insisted on representing the peace as a "pardon", graciously
conceded to please the Dutch, and declared that they would abide by it
only if the Johorese lived peacefully in their own lands and suspended
any additional embassies to Acheh. The envoys from Johore who joined
Schouten from Malacca were snubbed and shunned by the Achinese court
throughout their stay. This was partly intended 'to emphasize their lowly
status, but was also a device by the Achinese state councillors to discourage
another mission from Johore which might press for the marriage of Taj-
al-Alam and Abdu'l-Jalil III. This was not inconceivable. Indeed, it was
rumoured in Malacca in March 1641 that Orangkaya Bendahara of Acheh
had sent a message via Perak overland to Patani to invite Abdu'l-Jalil to
assume the Achinese throne. But such a marriage had an attraction only
for Johore, not for the Achinese state councillors, whose role in court
politics was likely to be less inhibited by a female ruler than it had been
under her two male predecessors. To succeed in his negotiations, Schouten
actually gave a pledge to the Achinese that the Dutch would not encourage
the marriage in any way. In return, Taj-al-Alam not only made peace with
Johore, but also granted exclusive privileges to the Dutch on the west
coast of Sumatra and surrendered, albeit grudgingly, Francisco de Souza
dc Castro, the Portuguese embassador, to Schouten.
Schouten's insistence on a peace settlement between Acheh and
Johore was barely tolerable to the Achinese, because the Achinese laksa-
mana and his forces were still isolated near Kuala Pahang, sustained by
rice bought from Chinese junks. About the middle of 1642 the laksamana
found his position untenable and fled, leaving behind his men and muni-
tions. The bendahara in Pahang appears to have transferred his allegiance
to Abdu'l-Jalil III of Johore, with strong support from the local aristocracy
and people. Pieter Sourij, the Dutch commissioner to Acheh, mentioned
in August 1642 that the bitterness and injured pride felt by the Achinese
court over this humiliation was so great that they could scarcely bear to
discuss it. Eventually, it became clear that Taj-al-Alam was intent upon
the reconquest of Pahang and it needed all Sourij's persuasive powers and
the denigration of Pahang as of little importance to prevent it. Taj-al-Alam's
letter to Van Diemen, brought to Batavia by Sourij on 26 November 1642,
declared that the Pahang nobility had the option of submitting to Acheh
or suffering the fate of traitors, bult implicitly recognized the futility of
these threats by suggesting that Van Diemen might induce the Pahang
rebels to return the Achinese troops and munitions, because "in my jud-
gement, Pahang and Batavia are like one country at present".
The interpretation of Malayan history in recent years has tended
to swing between a periodization based upon successive phases of domi-
nation by Portuguese, Dutch or British, on the one hand, and the rejection
of the first two groups of Europeans as "almost extraneous" to Malayan
history, on the other hand. In the sense 'that the current occupant of
Malacca, Portuguese or Dutch, was counterbalanced by equally powerful
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"

indigenous states, the political pattern of the area was infinitely more
complex and shifting than broad phases of European "domination" would
imply. On the other hand, the Portuguese and Dutch certainly became
part of the political fabric of the area, affecting the range of indigenous
suzerainty deliberately or inadvertently by their actions. Perhaps the clue
to the problem of interpretation hes in a negative rather than a positive
approach to European activity at this time, that is by recognizing the ways
in which the European presence prevented indigenous states from exercising
'their political power to the full, rather than by exaggerating the degree
cf political and commercial control achieved by the Europeans themselves.
By taking Malacca in conjunction with Johore rather than Acheh,
the Dutch replaced the Portuguese as a buffer behind which the Johore
empire could continue the recovery first made possible by the Portuguese
defeat of the Achinese in 1629. The peace between Acheh and Johore
imposed by the Dutch in 1641 benefitted Johore far more than Acheh in
the long run, because the Dutch subsequently prevented the reassertion
of Achinese authority in Pahang, which had been implicit in their earlier
pledges to Iskander Thani. The fact that the laksamana of Johore began
rebuilding the capital on the Johore river in 1640-1 suggests a new sense
of security. This was equally apparent in Indragiri, whose sultan wrote
to Van Diemen in May 1641, emphasizing the defensive unity of Indragiri,
Johore and Batavia. In April 1644 the sultan of Indragiri excused his
failure to send a mission to Batavia in the previous year on the ground
that he had been moving his capital back down river, presumably to the
site from which he had fled during the Achinese raid of 1624. If Johore
was safe after 1641, much of the credit must go to the laksamana, who
showed far more shrewdness in allying himself with the rising European
power and energy in implementing the alliance than Iskander Thani in
Acheh. Had the laksamana failed to develop the Dutch alliance in 1637-41,
had he adhered inflexibly to the Portuguese side, Johore would have been
on the losing side when Malacca finally fell. The Dutch ally would have
been Acheh and the Dutch might not then have felt obliged to prevent
an Achinese reconquest of Johore and Pahang.
These truths did not lessen the laksamana's sense of grievance in
1641-2 at the meagre booty acquired by the Malays at the siege of Ma-
lacca. In his letter to Van Diemen in August 1641 the laksamana noted
drily that the Malay troops had been employed in a feint attack during
the final assault. He pointed out less phlegmatically that the Dutch had
failed to restore all the Malay cannons recovered from the Portuguese;
that instead of Malay renegades being handed over to the Johore govern-
ment, as the Dutch had promised, one of them, Inche Chili, had not only
been allowed to settle in Dutch territory, but had carried off some of
Abdu'l-Jalil Ill's subjects from Muar; that the laksamana himself had
received "not a thing" from the Dutch in recognition of his loyalty; and
that the presents sent to Sultan Abdu'l-Jalil by the Dutch were less ex-
pensive than those they had received from him. These complaints were
not those of a greedy man, but of a minister who had to demonstrate
136
 CHANGES IN THE PATTERN OF MALAY POLITICS

conclusively the advantages of his alliance with the Dutch at court. The
laksamana admitted to Van Diemen that there had been considerable
criticism of the alliance when it was made and that the meagre booty
weakened his ability and inclination to justify it. In January 1642 Van
Twist, the governor of Malacca, received a report that the reaction against
the laksamana had led Abdu'l-Jalil III, who arrived in Makam Tauhid
from Patani in November 1641, to dismiss his minister.
This report stirred Van Twist's conscience, because like many
Dutchmen he recognized the courage and enthusiasm the Malays had
shown at the siege of Malacca. What weighed with him just as much,
however, was advice that a galley from Johore lay at Bengkalis, carrying
ambassadors to Acheh, whom he assumed were entrusted with a scheme
for the marriage of Taj-al-Alam and Abdu'l-Jalil III. Such a marriage,
as we have seen, was unlikely to be encouraged in Acheh, but the very
prospect of it disturbed Van Twist. Van Twist sent Menie and Willemsz.
to Makam Tauhid in January-February 1642 to restore good relations
with Johore, intercede for the laksamana, prevent the Malay embassy to
Acheh, and induce Abdu'l-Jalil to send a mission to Batavia instead.
Menie and Willemsz. discovered that there had been aristocratic
criticism of the laksamana, but that the sultan had supported his minister.
Indeed, in his letter to Van Twist of 3 February 1642, the sultan gently
rebuked the governor for listening to rumour, "because the laksamana is
a good and excellent man, of great intellect, and has always done me
excellent service, and still does so daily". Abdu'l-Jalil reiterated his minis-
ter's requests that all the Malay artillery in Malacca and the renegade,
Inche Chili, should be handed over by the Dutch, but simply as matters
for discussion with the mission he agreed to send to Batavia. He also
agreed that the vessels of his subjects sailing west of Malacca would call
there to receive Dutch passes, on the understanding that their cargoes
would be untouched and untaxed; that in future the fugitive slaves of both
parties would be restored for half their market value; that the mission to
Acheh would be suspended; and that it would not be resumed without
prior permission from the governor-general. It was also decided, in dis-
cussions with Menie, that subjects of either party who committed offences
against those of the other would be punished by their own governments.
The Menie-Willemsz. mission was an outstanding success and indicated
very clearly the basic goodwill in Johore towards the Dutch.
Subsequent strains on Dutch-Johorese relations arose from the
Dutch war with Rembau and Naning in 1644-6. Naning was a dependency
of the Malacca government inherited from the Portuguese by the Dutch
and Rembau was a neighbouring territory nominally subordinate to Johore.
The penghalus of Naning and other local villages had accepted the over-
lordship of the Dutch by a treaty signed with Van Twist in August 1641.
The treaty provided, interaVa, for the division of the estate of deceased
persons in Naning, the delivery of one tenth of the local produce to the
Dutch annually, and the restriction of Naning's external trade to Malacca.

137
 D.K. BASSET

Although Van Twist closed the Panagie River in December 1641 to enforce
the treaty, he was able to relax the blockade in February 1642 after Menie
had reorganized the administration in Naning and staves captured from
the Portuguese had been ransomed. The real problem seems to have lain
in releasing Christian slaves held in Rembau, which was inhabited by
Minangkabau men, who rented their lands from Dato Bendahara of Johore.
After Menie's visit to Makam Tauhid in February 1642, Abdu'l-Jalil III
and Dato Bendahara instructed Gatip Itam, the shahbandar in Rembau,
'.c ransom to the Dutch the slaves taken from the Portuguese during the
1641 siege. The sultan also imposed a fine of 200 reals on Orangkaya
Maharaja Lela, who was responsible for Rembau at court, and the elders
of Rembau for their obstructive attitude towards the Dutch. It was Go-
vernor Jeremias van Vliet's demand that the remaining slaves in Rembau
and Naning be surrendered within three days that seems to have provoked
the killing of Menie, captain Forsenburgh, and 28 Dutch soldiers in March
1644, after Van Vliet had led an expedition into the area. The attack on
the Dutch seems to have originated in Rembau, not Naning, although Van
Vliet assumed equal culpability and involvement in Naning.

For Sultan Abdu'l-Jalil to have connived at the killing of the Dutch-

men in Naning and Rembau, as Van Vliet contended, one would have
to assume a lasting sense of grievance against the Dutch in Johore after
1641. The broad picture, however, is totally at variance with this. The
success of the Menie-Willemsz. mission to Johore has already been noted,
as has Abdu'l-Jalil's imposition of a fine on the Rembau men, which seems
to have been remitted on the intercession of the Dutch. In July 1642
and March 1648, an alarmed Sultan Abdu'l-Jalil appealed by implication
for Dutch protection against an anticipated attack by Mataram, the most
powerful Javanese sultanate of the day. If Abdu'l-Jalil's energies were
concentrated anywhere in 1642-6, they were directed towards purely
indigenous problems. By September 1642, after an outbreak of fever, which
apparently killed Dato Bendahara and left the laksamana and many orang-
kayas sick, the sultan forsook Makam Tauhid for the old site at Batu
Sawar, which remained the capital until the raid by Jambi in 1673. Abdu'l-
Jalil must also have been deeply involved in the politics of Patani. When
he returned to Johore in November 1641, Abdu'l-Jalil left behind the queen
of Patani whom he had married. Indeed, the Dutch claimed that he had
lived with her so long only from courtesy. An envoy from Patani who
came to Batavia in February 1644 informed the governor-general that the
queen of Patani had married the youngest brother of the Yang di-Pertuan
of Johore. The envoy also stated that the brother for the first time ruled
in Patani as king, while continuing to send 'the traditional bunga emas to
Ayuthia. This arrangement caused such friction that about April 1645 the
native-born aristocracy in Patani rebelled, the Malay rajah fled, and his
entourage from Johore was massacred. Abdu'l-Jalil responded by calling :n
his fighting men and perahus from Benkalis, Muar, Ongaran an Boelang.
with the purpose of reinstating his brother. The Dutch refer to a confidential
letter from "the princess" of Patani reaching Ayuthia on 2 August 1645,
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 CHANGES IN THE PATTERN O F MALAY POLITICS

suggesting that the old type of monarchy had been restored. An envoy
from Patani came to Johore about August 1645, apparently to accomodate
differences, but there is no evidence that the Johore Malays ever recovered
their political influence in Patani.
It is most unlikely that Abdu'l-Jalil desired or risked embroilment
with the Dutch in 1644-6. There is no reason, to doubt the sincerity of
his letter to Van Diemen in May 1644. The sultan was genuinely shocked
and grieved by the murder of the Dutchmen in Naning and Rembau, parti-
cularly Menie, "an especially good friend of mine". Only a few days pre-
viously Abdu'l-Jalil had been assured by Orangkaya Lela Maharaja, who
supervised affairs in Rembau, that all outstanding differences with the
Dutch there had been composed. Although Abdu'l-Jalil sent two emissaries
immediately to Malacca to find out exactly what had happened, he sent
his trusted envoys, Sri Maharaja Lela and Raja Lela Wangsa, to Batavia
in May 1644. This was because he was perturbed by Van Vliet's general
attitude and wished to deal with and reassure the superior government.
While reminding Van Diemen of the understanding Reached with Menie in
February 1642 that each government retained the right to punish its subjects
who transgressed against the other, the sultan indicated from the outset his
willingness to take such measures as the Batavia government considered
appropriate.
Neither Governor-General van Diemen, his successor Van der Lijn,
nor the Dutch commissioner to Johore in July 1644, Pieter Sourij, believed
that Sultan Abdu'1-JaH was to blame for the tragedy in Naning and
Rembau. Van Vliet, however, incensed by his own difficulties at Malacca
in check:ng the rebels in 1644-5, saw the sultan in a much more sinister
role. He executed four Minangkabau men in Malacca in August 1644
because he claimed Abdu'l-Jalil had sent them to kill him in an amok.
To him, the import of rice to Rembau overland from Pahang and from
east Sumatra via Muar ind'cated complicity on the part of the Johore
government. When Jacinto Corea, a burgher of Malacca, was murdered in
Assahah in east Sumatra by a local chief, Raja Pena, Van Vliet attr buted
the deed primarily to some Malays from Muar, one of whom was the
brother-in-law of Gatip Itam, the shahbandar of Rembau.
In fact Sultan Abdu'l-Jalil probably needed time and considerable
tact if he was to give effect to his promises to commissioner Sourij that
the culprits in Rembau would be punished. By April 1645, despite Van
Vliets scepticism, Sri Paducca Raja and Sri Pardana Mantri had arrived in
Muar from Batu Sawar to deal with the Rembau men, but the palace
revolut:on against his brother in Patani forced Abdu'l-Jalil to recall them
in 'iihe general mobilization two months later. Van Vliet had already hinted
at a Dutch attack on Johore, but the news of preparations by Abdu'1-JaUl
for a naval expedition to Patani led him to suggest explicitly the destruction
of the Johore fleet at sea as a prelude to the attack on Batu Sawar. The
new governor-general, Van der Lijn, refused to take this step, because he
felt that Abdu'l-Jalil had done nothing to justify a Dutch declaration of war

139
 D.K. BASSET

and because the Batavia government at least still felt some obligation to
Johore for its help in the siege of Malacca. The department of Sri Paducca
Raja and Sri Pardana Mantri from Muar, however, ended" Van Vliet's
restraint of the major expedition he had planned to send into Naning via
Pankolang. Almost Van Vliet's last act, before transferring the governor-
ship of Malacca to Arnold de Vlamingh in November 1645, was to send
a strong force under Johan Truijtman and Lt. Kreuger into Naning in Sep-
tember, which destroyed villages, rice stores and fruit trees. A second
expedition followed in March 1646. This devastation and the ravages of
smallpox forced the penghalus of Naning and Rembau to submit to the
Dutch at Malacca in the treaty of September 1646.
Fortunately for Johore, the Batavia government consistently regarded
Van Vliet as primarily responsible for provoking the troubles in Naning
and Rembau in 1644-6. They also recognized 'L'hait he was a most biased
interpreter of the actions of the sultan of Johore. The Naning-Rembau war
therefore remained what it probably was in fact : an embarrassing incident
for both the sultan and the Dutch. Dutch relations with Johore resumed
their amicable tenor in the later 1640's and the 1650's. Missions from
Johore came to Batavia in March 1648 and May 1653, seeking protection
against Mataram on the first occasion. The Malacca government sent an
ambassy to Johore in 1650 and the envoys from Johore who came to
Malacca in January 1651 promised that tin from Rembau and Ujong Saliâng
imported to Johore would be delivered to the Dutch. For some reason,
the Dutch seem to have felt less commercial resentment against Johore,
despite its flourishing trade with Indian shippers and junks from China,
than they did towards the tin producing states to the north of Malacca.
Indeed, it was not until 1685 and 1689 that the Dutch tried to monopolize
the external trade of Johore. Perhaps this was because a large part of
the pepper grown in Johore, Indragiri and other parts of east Sumatra
came freely to Malacca in the 1640's an 1650's. In any case, pepper,
unlike tin, was available to the Dutch in abundance in other areas of the
archipelago.
Dutch relations with Acheh followed a somewhat different course
after 1641. Although both powers generally observed the diplomatic
niceties during the subsequent 'twenty years, the Achinese were well aware
of their diminished stature after the Dutch capture of Malacca. The
contrast between the redoubtable Iskander Muda (1607-36), contemptuous
ol the "beggers of Europe" and unmoved by their resentment at his
tightening control of Sumatran pepper, and the placatory Taj-al-Alam is
striking. This new sense of insecurity showed itself in many subtle ways.
The keynote of Dutch-Achinese diplomacy in 1641-59 was the gradual
coercion of the Achinese through a war of nerves, maintained through an
annual exchange of ambassadors.
Schouten's schievements in 1641 have aheady been noted. The
delay between Schouten's departure and the arrival of the Dutch com-
missioner, Pieter Sourij, in the summer of 1642 gave rise to the wildest
misgivings about Dutch intentions in the Achinese court, which the Dutch
140
 CHANGES IN THE PATTERN OP MALAY POLITICS

resident factor, Compostel, could only allay by displaying the letters he

received from Batavia. De Vlamingh, during his mission to Acheh in 1645,
played upon this Achinese loss of confidence by hinting at a Portuguese
punitive expedition against Acheh, at a time when Portugal and Holland
were for once at peace. The Achinese, however, had no illusions as to
whom they should fear and made defensive preparations against the Dutch,
which De Vlamingh checked only by selling a few cannon to Taj-al-Alam.
When the Dutch finally instituted a naval blockade against Indian ships
bound to Acheh and the Malay peninsular ports in June 1647, Taj-al-Alam
prevented the withdrawal of the Dutch factory from Acheh because she
saw it as her last guarantee against an actual Dutch invasion of Acheh.
In fact, the Dutch never considered it necessary to aUack Acheh itself,
because the Achinese were so relieved to have their fears of invasion
finally dispelled by the appearance of new Dutch commissioners that
they raised only nominal objections to Dutch demands. In more than a
year of suspence before Johan TruijCman arrived at Acheh in September
1649 to negotiate new concessions, the Achinese desperately prepared
land defences, guarded the local Dutch factors, and intercepted Dutch
correspondence to gain some inkling of Batavia's intentions.
The Dutch objectives in these years, achieved on paper by 1649,
were to obtain at least a half share of the tin of Perak, still an Achinese
vassal, and a half share of the pepper of the Achinese dependencies in west
Sumatra. Within the context of this paper, it is possible to deal only with
Perak. Unlike the sultan of Kedah and the Thai governors of Ujong
Salang and Banggeri, who entered tin contracts with .the Dutch in various
forms in 1641 - 5, the sultan of Perak insisted from October 1641 onwards
upon his right of free international trade. Prior to 1649, Taj-al-Alam also
refused to accord to the Dutch more than the right of competing for tin
on the free market in Perak. The only pretext, therefore, upon which the
Dutch could interrupt the legitimate foreign trade with Perak was the
dubious one that a predominant share of Perak tin was one of the
"rights" they had inherited from the Portuguese, As the Dutch found
themselves hopelessly outclassed in a competitive Perak market, successive
governors of Malacca and commissioners to Acheh, such as Vlamingh,
resorted to the argument that the Portuguese had denied most of the tin
of Perak 'to Acheh before the Dutch took Malacca. Thus the Dutch were
the legatees of the Portuguese share of the tin. It must be made clear
that the Dutch, even if they were sincere, were probably advancing a claim
based on a fiction. Acheh had conquered Perak in 1620 and despite a
Portuguese expedition to Perak in December 1629, Perak had repudiated
Portuguese claims in April 1632, even before the Dutch blockade of Ma-
lacca began. There is no reason to doubt Taj-al-Alam's comment to
Truijtman in 1649, that any Portuguese who had traded in Perak in recent
memory had done so surreptitiously. The legal position of Taj-al-Alam
and the sultan of Perak seems unassailable. The inconsistency of the Dutch
denying the Achinese right to more than a fraction of Perak tin, whiie
consistently utilising Achinese suzerainty over Perak to impose a joint
Dutch-Achinese monopoly is also clear.

141
 D.K. BASSET

Unfortunately, legal technicalities have less influence on events than

political power. Dutch estimates of tin production in Perak varied wildly
from a grossly optimistic 7,000 bahars in 1638 to a more realistic 2,000
bahars in 1649. From other evidence, one can assume 3,000 bahars
annually, or 1,125,000 Dutch lbs, at 375 Dutch lbs to the bahar. Of this
total, only 5-600 bahars reached Taj-al-Alam and her councillors annually,
so that Dutch demands for half the production in the 1640's were excessive.
Even the more restrained Dutch demand for 600 bahars in 1649
surpassed the quantity normally obtained by Taj-al-Alam herself. It must
also be remembered that the Dutch had no treaty right to any of the tin
before 1649, but they blockaded Perak unilaterally in 1644-6 and 1647-9.
The initial pretext for blockading Perak in May 1644 was the ar-
rival there of a boat, bearing a Dutch pass, from Cambodia, where the
Dutch factors had recently been murdered. The sultan of Perak's expla-
nation that the boat belonged to Minangkabau men who had been in
Cambodia was ignored, because the real reason for the blockade was the
sultan's failure to favour the Dutch in the tin trade at the expense of
indigenous exporters. Arnold de Vlamingh was able to offset the appeals
of the Perak envoys to Acheh by putting the Dutch case to Taj-al-Alam
before their arrival and by being present when the Perak men made their
representations. The Dutch factory in Perak was reopened on a trial basis
about July 1646, but yielded only ten bahars of tm by the end of the
year. Perak, of course, was included in the general Dutch blockade of the
Malay ports decided upon in June 1647 and maintained until Truijtman
arrived in Acheh in September 1649 to negotiate the treaties which divided
Perak tin and west Sumatran pepper equally between the government of
Acheh and the Dutch.
The details of Dutch tin exports from Perak, Kedah and elsewhere
lie outside the scope of this paper. It is clear, however, that continuous
Dutch pressure upon Acheh to make unprecedented commercial concessions
greatly exacerbated political strains within the state. Just as the laksamana
of Johore was criticised because his pro-Dutch policy had yielded so little
for Johore, so Dutch demands upon Acheh furnished the basis for charge
and counter-charge between the Achinese court factions. Of Taj-al-Alam's
four principal state councillors in 1641-2, the Kali and Maharaja Lela were
pro-Dutch. It needed only the idle gossip then of the Portuguese interpreter
at the Dutch factory and the blunter accusations of the anti-Dutch Orang-
kaya Maharaja to spread the rumour that the Dutch planned to install the
Kali on the throne by force. On that occasion Compostel, the Dutch re-
sident, was able to discredit Orangkaya Maharaja and quieten the inter-
preter permanently by having molten lead poured down his throat. Truijtman
was able to wring the next major series of concessions from Taj-al-Alam
in 1649 because of the pro-Dutch attitudes of Raja Bintara and the very
powerful Maharaja Sri Maharaja, revealed to Truijtman secretly through
the state interpreter, Abdu'l Latiff. It may be significant that in 1651 the
laksamana led a palace revolution against Maharaja Sri Maharaja, whom
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 CHANGES IN THE PATTERN OF MALAY POLITICS

he accused of having sold the kingdom's interests to the Dutch and of

aiming at the throne. The turmoil was such that as late as December 1651
the Dutch at Batavia were still uncertain if Taj-al-Alam was alive. In fact,
she seems to have been forced to deprive Maharaja Sri Maharaja of his
offices, to overlook the murder of his son, Maharaja Diraja, by the
malcontents, and deny publicly any intimacy between herself and the
Kali. Even the Achinese ambassadors who had accompanied Truijtman
back to Batavia in 1650 to ratify the treaty were disgraced and cast into
poverty on the charge of betraying the kingdom. Obviously, court intrigues
of this kind might well have occurred without the Dutch irritant — there
were further palace disturbances at the turn of 1652-3 — but the Dutch
must have created additional strains within the government.
This weakening of Taj-al-Aiam's authority was related much more
obviously and directly in Perak to Dutch demands. Indeed, Taj-al-Alam
was clearly aware that her suzerainty in Perak, exercised in the Dutch
interest, would not stand too great a strain. Her agreement with Truijtman
in 1649 to divide the tin of Perak equally between Acheh and the Dutch
was acceded to by Sultan Muzaffar Shah II of Perak in August and De-
cember 1650. In April 1651 most of the Dutchmen in the reopened Perak
factory and the crews of two sloops in the river were killed, apparently
in the belief that the Dutch planned to build a fort in Perak and were
smuggling cannons ashore. Subsequently events indicate Taj-al-Alam's
dilemma very clearly. When Truijtman, who was in charge of the punitive
measures against Perak, visited her in November 1651, she agreed, ac-
cording to the Dutch account, that Dato Temenggong and the shahbandar
in Perak, whom the Dutch held primarily responsible for the massacre,
should be executed by her own instructions. She also decreed that Orangkaya
Besar was to be elevated to the post of temenggong and that another
suitable Perak man should replace the shahbandar. Her only stipulation
was that the Dutch should not harm her kinsman, Sultan Muzaffar Shah,
although she hinted at his deposition if he proved to be implicated in the
murders. After the Perak men had repulsed Truijtman's forces
in January 1652, however, Taj-al-Alam denied that she had authorized
the execution of anyone save an Indian merchant who had killed a Dutch-
man in an isolated personal dispute. She suggested to Truijtman that they
had driven the Perak men to extremes and that it was best to bury the past.
Muzaffar Shah II died in 1654 or 1655 and was succeeded by
Dato Temenggong, whom the Dutch had hoped to execute. Admittedly,
the Dutch were able to impose new treaties on Perak through Acheh in
1655 and 1659, but there is no evidence that they were more effective.
Taj-al-Alam complied, perhaps because she wished to avoid open war
between Acheh itself and the Dutch, preferring to limit hostilities to her
tributary states. Despite rumours of an Achinese naval expedition to break
the Dutch blockade of Perak on several occasions, Taj-al-Alam failed to
protect the sultan of Perak. Thus both Perak and the west Sumatran de-
pendencies, finding Acheh's suzerainty of little practical use, renounced
it in the 1660's at Dutch instigation, just as Benjarmasin and Jambi
renounced that of Mataram.
143
 D.K. BASSET

The nebulous and often nominal forms of overlordship in the Malay

world were simply not adapted to bear the very specific demands of the
Dutch. When there was a violent reaction against the Dutch, they tended
to assume a preconceived plot, rather than a popular outburst which the
sultan was unable to control. Van Vliet's conviction that Sultan Abdu'l-
Jalil III had connived at the killing of the Dutchmen in Rembau and
Naning in 1644 is a case in point. Similarly, when the Dutchmen in Perak
were massacred in April 1651, the Batavia government did not believe that
the Achinese were implicated, but by January 1653, after Taj-al-Alam
had rescinded her undertakings about punitive executions in Perak, the
Dutch became convinced that the Achinese had prior knowledge of the
Perak outburst.
Perhaps the most illuminating example of this type of incident oc-
curred in Kedah in May 1652. Two successive sultans of Kedah had
entered contracts to supply half the state's tin to the Dutch in July 1641
and July 1642, but, as in Perak, the Dutch were disappointed and Kedah
was one of the states blockaded in 1647. Envoys from the sultan of Kedah
visited Malacca in May 1650, in an effort to have the blockade raised,
but Governor Thijssen referred them to Batavia. When they came to Ba-
tavia in March 1651, the governor-general referred them back to Thijssen
and Commissioner Truijtman, because they were better acquainted with
Malay affairs. Carel Reniers, the governor-general, ultimately admitted
that the failure to reply to the sultan by his envoys "we can now see to
have been an error and that we esteemed that prince too little". Even so,
the incident in Kedah in May 1652, which led to Truijtman and his escort
being seized until the Dutch paid compensation for their past seizures of
Kedah ships, seems to have been an unintentional brawl, occasioned by
the Malays endeavouring to persuade Truijtman's excessive escort to lay
aside their arms. It was the sultan who quelled the tumult and prevented
a general massacre. The Dutch assumed that the sultan had been inspired
by events in Perak, but they were powerless to take punitive action at
that time.
One of the considerations inducing the sultan of Kedah to seek
a settlement with the Dutch in 1650-1 may well have been his fear of
Dutch-Thai collaboration against him. The sultan had succeeded his father
on 30 June 1642 but he seems to have refused to pay tribute to King
Prasat T'ong of Siam until the end of 1644, when a Thai official, ac-
companied by a doctor, arrived in Kedah. The function of the doctor was
to pass the sultan as fit to proceed to Ayuthia, but eventually it was
agreed that the sultan's brothers might go in his place. According to the
Dutch, the Thai emissary brought a letter in gold leaf, embossed with the
profile of King Prasat T'ong, before which the sultan and his nobles paid
homage daily for tliree days. When the Raja of Singora rebelled against
Siam in 1647, the sultan of Kedah, apparently hoping to assist Singora
indirectly, overran Bordelongth towards the end of the year. The Thai
forces were able to hold Ligor and this become their base of operations
against Singora, but Singora was still hold'ng out in 1653. As in the

144
 CHANGES IN THE PATTERN OF MALAY POLITICS

Patani troubles of the 1630's, Prasat T'ong hoped for full scale Dutch naval
assistance against the rebels, but the Batavia government had too many
commitments elsewhere and too little at stake in Singora itself. There was
more basis for joint action in Kedah, however, because of the Dutch naval
blockade there in 1648-52. In April 1648, ambassadors from Prasat T'ong
came to Batavia, seeking Dutch help against Singora and suggesting that
they might subsequently attack Kedah on his behalf. This danger, and
die Dutch blockade, probably explains the sultan of Kedah's overtures to
Malacca and Batavia in 1650-1.
pm$ »
As we have seen, the brawl at Bukit Tinggi, the Kedah capital, in
May 1652, placed Truijtman and the entire Dutch delegation unexpectedly
in the sultan's power and compiled the Dutch, grudgingly, to accept a
compromise settlement. Reniers, the governor-general, had not completely
relinquished the idea of revenge and revived the idea of invading Kedah
eventually on behalf of the King of Siam, but the needs of the Perak
blockade precluded immediate retaliation. On 20 May 1653, however,
envoys from Kedah arrived in Ligor, with proposals to resume sending the
bunga emas to Siam provided that the King of Siam returned to them
nine elephants for which they had already paid and 200 tons of rice which
they had previously loaned him. Balthasar Bort, who was in Ligor at the
time, doubted whether the envoys would recover the rice and elephants, but
anticipated that the governor of Ligor would grant the envoys safe conduct
to Ayuthia. In the absence of any other evidence, perhaps one can assume
that Prasat T'ong, with a still unsuppressed rebellion in Singora, would
have been content to come to terms with Kedah.
Enough has been written in this paper to suggest that if the Dutch
did not enjoy the unchallenged supremacy in the Malay Penisula that
earlier historians ascribed to them, they did at least, deliberately or
inadvertently, cause major shifts in the balance of indigenous politics and
themselves become part of the local scene. The other point that should
emerge is the invaluable nature of Dutch documents as supplementary
material for indigenous history. This paper has been written on the basis
of pubhshed material only, which must be a fraction of the documents
available.

m
 D.K. BASSET

BIBIOGRAPH Y

Because of the need to submit this paper in time for the confer-
ence, it has not been possible to include the footnotes in the text. The
principal sources used were :
Boxer, CR. "The Achinese Attack on Malacca in 1629, as described in
contemporary Portuguese sources", in J, Bastin and R. Roolvink
(eds.). Malayan and Indonesian Studies, (Oxford, 1964).
Van der Chijs, J.A., H T . Colenbrander, J, de Hullu, (eds.). Dagh-Register
gehouden int Casteel Batavia, 1636, 1637, 1640-1, 1641-2, 1643-4.
1644-5, 1647-8, 1653, (8 vols), (The Hague, 1887-1903).
Coolhaas, W, Ph. (ed.). Generale Missiven van Gouverneurs-Generaal en
Raden aan Heren XVII der Verenigde Oostindische Compagnie,
vols I and II, (The Hague, 1960 and 1964).
Gibson-Hül, CA. 'On the alleged death of Sultan Ala'u'd-din of Johore
at Acheh, in 1613', JMBRAS, XXIX (1), (1956).
Heeres, J.E, and P.A. Tiele, Bouwstoffen voor de Geschiedenis der Neder-
landers in den Maleischen Archipel, vols. II and III, (Hague 1890
and 1895).
Leupe, P.A. 'The Siege and Capture of Malacca from the Portuguese in
1640-1641', (trans. Mac Hacobian), JMBRAS, XIV (1), (1936).

146
 ACHEH SULTANATE UNDER SULTAN MOHAMMAD
DAUDSYAH AND THE DUTCH WAR *
TEUKU IBRAHIM ALFIAN
GADJAH MADA UNIVERSITY

The history of Acheh Sultanate at the end of the nineteenth century

and in the early twentieth century is identical with the history of struggle
against the Dutch agression.
It is the rights of Acheh, being a sovereign and free country, and
its head of state, the Achehnese Sultan, to solve all problems — political
as well as social — which arise in facing the foreign agression.
Dr. Snouck Hurgronje, who stayed at Kutaraja (now : Banda
Atjeh) for seven months to investigate the life of the Moslems in Acheh
and its influence on politics and social relation, reported that the Sultan
of Acheh had no respectable position in the political constellation of that
time. 2 Many other writers as G.B. Hooyer, 3 Schmidt and du Croo 4 were

* Paper presented at the rvth IAHA Conference, Kuala Lumpur, 1968.

i Unlike the colonial historiography and its heritage, which used the term
"The Acheh War", the writer deliberately presents here the term "The
Dutch War" (Perang Belanda). The Achehnese people call this war "Prang
Kaphé" (The Infidel War) or "Prang Beulanda" (The Dutch War). See
the numerous manuscripts on Prang Sabil (Holy War) available at the
University Library Leiden, the Netherlands. Besides he is fully convinced
of Professor Sartono Kartodirdjo's statement that, in the present stage 01
independence, the Indonesians should reconstruct their history through
their own point of view (Indonesia-centric), and thus present the Indonesian
people and their roles as the dramatist personae in the framework of In-
donesia. See Sartono Kartodirdjo, Pergerakan Sosial dalam Sedjai-ah Indo-
nesia (Jogjakarta : Universitas Gadjah Mada, 1967), p. 3. The invaluable
view of John R.W. Smail, in "On the Possibility of an Autonomous History
of Modern South East Asia", Journal of South East Asian History (July,
1961), pp. 72-102, is the more convincing and at the same time justifying
the way of writing the Indonesian History.
2 See Appendix A on Dr. Snouck Hurgronje's report in Mail Report (MR)
R 8, 1892, Algemene Rijksarchief (ARA) Schaarsbergen. Unfortunately this
App. A was not included in E. Gobee and C. Adriaanse (eds.), Ambtelijke
Adviezen van C. Snouck Hurgronje ('s-Gravenhage : Ministerie van On-
derwijs, Kunsten en Wetenschappen, 1957), Vol. I, pp. 49-114. The report
was then expressed in his standard work The Achehnese. He stayed there
from mid July 1891 to mid February 1892.
3 G.B. Hooyer, De Krijgsgeschiedenis van Nederlandsch-Indië (Den Haag : De
Gebroeders van Cleef, 1897), p. 41.
* H.J. Schmidt and M.H. du Croo, Marechaussee in Atjeh (Maastricht : Leiter-
Nypels, 1943), p. 19.

147
 TEUKU IBRAHIM ALF1AN

chiming in with him. A reaction to Snouck Hurgronje's report, however,

had been given by the Dutch Governor of Acheh, General Deykerhoff,
contradicting the great scholar's statement.6 Snouck Hurgronje also said :
Tuanku Muhammad Dawot (the last Sultan of Acheh) who had
been made Sultan as a child, . . . was a nonentity in a po-
litical sense and was in a position neither to do the Dutch much
harm nor to give them any serious assistance in the pacification
of the country.8
Since the above statements are very interesting, the writer intends
to examine closely whether or not the Sultan of Acheh possesses authority
and leadership in guiding his people against the Dutch during the forty
years war (1873-1912); the longest war in the history of the Indonesian
people in their fight against the Dutch.
Examination would first be set on the role of the Sultan and his
relationship with other social forces in the fight against the enemy until
his compulsory surrender in the year 1903, while the Sultan's efforts in
making contact with foreign countries up to this year will_ not be dealt
with. The paper does not profess to discuss the histoire bataille, 7 it would
present in short the Dutch tactics and their policy in destroying the Acheh-
nese kingdom.
Then the Sultan's attitude after 1903 and his refusal of being the
Dutch puppet would be closely examined. His exile to Batavia and later
to Ambon was, in fact, based upon the Dutch knowledge of the important
role he played in the 1907 revolt.
After the unsuccessful agression to destroy the kingdom of Acheh
in 1873, 8 the Dutch was launching a second attack in 1874 and succeeded
to seize the Sultan's palace. The Sultan (Mahmudsyah) retreated to the
country side, Lueng Bata, but later died of cholera in January 29, 1874.
The state administration then fell in the hands of Banta Muda Tuanku
Hasyim bin Tuanku Kadir, Panglima Polem Sri Muda Perkasa, Sri Imam
Muda Teuku Panglima Duapauluh Enam and Sri Setia Ulama. These four
leaders were the decision makers of matters relating to the state policy,
that is to defend the country and religion and to keep on fighting the
Dutch agression.
s Letter, Dutch Governor of Acheh (DGA), C. Deykerhoff, to the Governor
General (GG) of the Netherlands-Indies, July 17, 1893 no. 559,'K secret.
Kabinet Geheim (KG) Sept. 23, 1893, B 12, ARA Schaarsbergen.
c C. Snouck Hurgronje, The Achehnese (Leiden : Late E.J, Brill, 1906),
Transi, by A.W.S. O'Sullivan, Vol. I, pp. xvii-xviii.
1 For the history of the w a r : see E.B. Kielstra, Beschrijving van den Atjeh-
Oorlog. 3 vols. ('s-Gravenhage : De Gebroeders van Cleef, 1885), and
C.D.E.J. Hotz, Beknopt Geschiedkundig Overzicht van den Atjeh-Oorlog.
(Breda : De Koninklijke Militaire Academie, 1924).
* Acheh is the only region in Indonesia whose people was able to kill a General
in the Dutch Army (Köhler).

148
 ACHEH SULTANATE UNDER SULTAN MUHAMMAD DAUDSYAH

This was written in the message sent by the above mentioned four
leaders to Teuku (T.) Imam Chik Lotan, uleëbalang (hereditary chief) of
Geudong and all uleëbalang and to the ulamas (religious leaders) and the
hajis and to all Moslems at Krueng Pase area. This letter stated the
destruction of four mukims (minor subdivision of a district) and the sur-
render of half of mukim Meuraksa and the following message :
day out even if Acheh has become as large as a winnowing basket.
God willing, do not have a change of attitude toward Allah
and His prophet, Muhammad, but strongly fight the enemy, day in
This was, m fact, the result of an agreement reached by the
Achehnese people and the ulamas and the hadjis and all moslems. *

The letter further stated :

Now if you still believe in God, the Prophet, and the religion
of Islam, and abide by Mohammad's Law, you should join our
brothership in Acheh to fight strongly for the sake of Islam,
Muhammad's Law and the prestige of the religion and the nation
of Acheh.10
Obviously this letter had revealed the firm attitude and strong will
of the Achehnese authorities and the ulamas and uleëbalangs in Acheh
Proper; it also appealed to the rest of the Achehnese for their willingness
to adopt the same attitude.
In conformity with the customary law the Achehnese leaders made
Tuanku Muhammad Daudsyah, grandson of Sultan Ibrahim Mansyursyah,
Sultan, on 22 Muharram 1292 H (March 4, 1875) and the ceremony took
place in the mosque of Lam Teungoh, Aneuk Galong. " This was important
for the Achehnese to show the foreign world that Acheh was still having
a central Government.
While Tuanku Muhammad Daudsyah was still in his early years of
age (11 ears old), the governmental administration was taken by Tuanku
Hasyim who aeted as a mangkubwni (regent); an energetic person, an
expert and devotee of Islam.
He was successful in his career because his actions and attitude
were parallel with those of the ulamas.12
» Letter of Banta Muda Tuanku Hasjim et al to T. Imam Chik Lotan, April
18, 1874, in W. Frijling, "De Voornaamste Gebeurtenissen in het Begin va-t
de 2de Expeditie, dcor Atjehers Beschreven", Tijdschrift voor Binnenlandsch
Bestuur (TBB), 1912, pp. 23-6. (the writer's translation).
io ibid.
u Ismail Jakub; Tengku (Tgk.) Tjhik di Tiro Muhammad Saman, Pahlawan
Besar dalam Perang Atjeh, 1881-1891. (Djakarta : Bulan Bintang, 1960),
p. 37. According to Snouck Hurgronje, the Sultan was appointed in 1878,
Tho Achehnese, I, op. cit., p. xvi.
12 A note from E. van Assen (Dutch Assistant Resident (AR) a t Sigli) about
the Achehnese Pacification to the Minister of Colonial Affairs, L.W.C.
Keuchenius, December 25, 1889, no. : K 68/F 3. Koninklijk Bibliotheek,
Den Haag.

149
 TEUKU IBRAHIM ALFIAN

The Sultan at that time took up his residence at Keumala Dalam

in Pidië area. This was also the gathering place tor luanku Hasyim,
Tgk. di Tiro, T. Imum Luëng Bata and T. Cut Lam Reung (chief of
sagi mukim xxvi) and T,. Atoy (chief mukim iv or sagi mukim xxvi).13
At the end of 1883 Tuanku Muhammad Daud was proclaimed to
be of age and took up h s duty as Sultan assisted by Tuanku Hasyim as
vice - roy ,and Tgk. Chi' di Tiro, who took part in the announcement of
the important event stated above,11 as a Kadli (supreme judge).15
He ordered the uleëbalangs to öfter some obligatory alms for the
sake of the holy war. 16
Every Achehnese acknowledged the young Sultan as his king. 1T
This gay and handsome Sultan had a royal standpoint toward his chieftains
and he was very polite toward his people and attentive ' 8
He also allowed persons to solve the domestic affairs which were,
however, usually sent to Tuanku Hasyim for their solution.19 It is true
indeed that since 1874, Tuanku Hasyim played an important role.
It was from Keumala Dalam that the Achehnese Sultan operated
his political course, as had been stated in the message of Tuanku Hasyim
cs. on April 18, 1874 mentioned earlier, together with two other social
forces : the ulamas (religious elite) and the uleëbalangs (secullar elite).
The Sultan had once sent letters to the religious elite and the secular
elite asking them to prevent any possible disunion of the Achehnese who
were fighting the Dutch. 20 Besides, the Sultan of Acheh had also a duty

13 A report from Van der Heyden to GG, Kutaradja, January 5, 1880, dossier :
no. 9186, ARA Schaarsbergen.
n See, letter DGA to GG August 27, 1884, Secret, no. : 1398/1, in KG Oct. 17,
1884, R 20, ARA Schaarsbergen.
it« Note, AR of Great Acheh, Dec. 1, 1888, Exh, February 9, 1889, Kab. Lr.
L 3, ARA Schaarsbergen.
ie The only letter that fell into the Dutch hands was the letter from Keumala
to uleëbalang of Padang Keling which stated that Tuanku Muhammad
Daudsyah had been appointed Sultan and ordered to give alms to wage the
holy war. See, Letter, AR Acheh Westcoast, Van Langen, to DGA, January
11, 1884, in Kab. March 27, 1884, B 6, ARA, Schaarsbergen.
17 Letter, DGA to GG, February 4, 1884, Kab. Juna 18, 1884, ARA, Schaars-
bergen.
18 He had two European soldiers and some other Indonesians coming from
the other islands, deserters from the Dutch troops. They were trusted by
the Sultan to call and fetch certain people for his audience in Keumala.
One of them, named Usin got married at Keumala and had many children.
He taught the Sultan some Dutch songs, as "Wiens Neerlandech Bloed",
and "Slaap kindje slaap". See, Note, E. van Assen, op. cit.
i» Ibid.
o Letter, Van Langen to Snouck Hurgronje, Kutaradja, August 14, 1893,
Private, Oostersch Instituut Leiden.

150
 ACHEH SULTANATE UNDER SULTAN MUHAMMAD DAUDSYAH

to settle the conflict amongst the uleëbalangs and that of the people in
other parts of the country. The Dutch tactic of giving support to the
persuaded uleëbalangs had made this duty the harder for him. The Dutch
efforts, however, had come to no avail since some of the cooperative
uleëbalangs were secretly giving the Sultan and the Achehnese fighters
their moral and material support.21
As to the extent of the loyalty of these uleëbalangs a special study
is necessary. The establishment of cooperation between the Sultan and
most of the secular and religious elite and the strong influences of the
latter upon the people of Acheh had caused the Dutch to have many
difficulties and long years to conquer Acheh.
Who were these people around the Sultan who were also govern-
ment executives in the emergency of war with the Dutch?
Attention is first paid to Tuanku Hasyim. He was, like Sultan
Muhammad Daud, a descendant of Sri Sultan Alauddin Ahmad Syah
(1728-1735). -2 Tuanku Hasyim was very anti-Dutch. The Dutch said that
it was Tuanku Hasyim that made Tuanku Muhammad Daudsyah the like. -a
Nya' Lingke, an ex-follower of Habib Muhammad from Peudawa Besar,
after his return from Keumala, told the Dutch that Tuanku Hasyim had
very great influence on the Sultan and as long as Tuanku Hasyim was
on his side he wouldn't have the slightest idea of surrendering to the
Dutch.24
Tuanku Hasyim's son in law, T. Maharaja Muda from Lho' Seumawe
declared that his father-in-law would carry on his being anti-Dutch for
long and there was no person who had enough influence to change the
situation.2S T. Maharaja Muda himself was afraid of coming to Keumala,
since he had recognized the Dutch sovereignty.2ti Nya' Bakoj, the man
who once sent the letter of Assistant Resident Sol to Tuanku Hasyim,
said that Tuanku Hasyim was, then, taking oath to keep on fighting the
Dutch as long as pumpkins grow in the soils of Acheh. 2T
Further knowledge of what had been the background of this is
considered necessary to relate here. With the signing of the Siak treaty
in 1858, the Dutch influence in East Sumatra was spreading fast. To
stop this, the Sultan of Acheh sent top officials — one of them was

î i Letter, June 7, 1893, ibid.

2K Daughter of Tuanku Hasyim was the second wife of Tuanku Muhammad
Daudsyah's father.
23 Note, E. van Assen, op. cit. This note also stated that Sultan Muhammad
Daud' was afraid of Tuanku Hasyim, whom he called "Ungku Nek".
24 see, letter of AR H.v.d. Steenstraten to DGA, Idi, February 2, 1891, KG
December 24, 1891, N 18, ARA Schaarsbergen.
2« Ibid,
»o Ibid.
-'7 Note, E. van Assen, op. cit.

151
 J Au a u TEUKU IBRAHIM ALFIAN

Tuanku Hasyim — to East Sumatra to make relations with the Sultans

of Deli and Langkat who had recognized the supremacy of Acheh. The
Dutch, however, destroyed the Achehnese maritime power by what they
called the Asahan expedition in 1865, causing Tuanku Hasyim to leave
East Sumatra taking refuge to the isle of Kampai (Langkat) and occupied
the isle under the name of Tuanku Hitam. He was later defeated by the
Dutch Navy under the command of P.A. van Rees and he was compelled
to retreat to Langsa (1865). When the Dutch raided Acheh for the second
time in 1874, the Sultan called him back to Acheh. He joined the fight
to defend the palace when a Dutch grenade almost killed him. The above
cases had made him the more vengeful and anti-Dutch. Besides Tuanku
Hasyim, his younger brother Tuanku^Mahmud, who was called Banta
Kecil, was appointed representative of the Sultan in West Acheh with a
duty to collect taxes.
Since 1886, Tuanku Mahmud had been at Kluang, Daya and
Lambesi (West Acheh) and had exercised great influence in this region. **
His correspondence with the Dutch official stated that he was sent
by the Sultan to solve the Achehnese governmental affairs in West Acheh,
but according to the sources reliable to the Dutch, his arrival was to
collect funds for the holy war.2" In September, 1887 he had sent money
of about 4,000 dollars worth 3" to Keumala and Acheh Proper.
In June 1887, Tuanku Abdulrnadjid, cous:n and father-in-law of
Sultan Muhammad Daud, surrendered to the Du'tch in Kutaraja. This did
not have any influence upon the Sultan at Keumala who kept on fight ng
his enemy. Attention is now paid to the secular elite, who in the first
decade after the war broke out, mostly supported the Sultan with supply,
ammunition, arms and fighters.31 The most important loyal figures and
mostly on the lead in battles were : T. Husin Luëng Bata, T. Ali Lam
Krak, and T. Nyak Hasan, a daring war commander and expert in guerilla
warfare. The Dutch admitted this and the fall of T. Nyak Hasan as a
martyr in 1883 was a blessing in disguise for them. 32 Even when some
of the uleëbalangs had collaborated with the Dutch, they still retained their
deep respect and loyalty towards the Sultan. T. Nek, for example the ch ef
of Meuraksa, was sent and paid by the Dutch to present himself to the
Sultan at Keumala with a message of asking the Sultan to surrender, but
he had not enough courage to deliver it to the Sultan.33 The deep respect
and the subservience the uleëbalangs were harbouring towards the Sultan

as Nota omtrent der Algemeenen toestand ter Westkust van Atjeh, Kutaradjr.
Nov. .20, 1887, KG April 6, 1885/D 5, ARA, Schaarsbergen.
2» Ibid.
*o ibid.
3i Letter, DGA, C. Deykerhoff, no. : 55D/K. Secret, op. Cit.
s* Ibid.
33 Nota omtrent de reis van T. Nek, Panglima Polem es. naar Keumala, from
DG, F. van Teijn in KG, February 7, 1880 L 1, ARA, Schaarsbergen.

152
 ACHEH SULTANATE UNDER SULTAN MUHAMMAD DAUDSYAH

can be learned from the fact that T. Nek cs. was — upon his return —
taking along with him the water which had been used in washing the
Sultan's feet, and give it to their friends and relatives who did not come
with them. "
The most important and very near to the Sultan amongst the secular
elite group was Panglima Polem chief of sagi mukim XXII. He was a
descendent of the earlier Achehnese Sultan, but from a common mother.36
The first Panglima Polem had seven sons; one of them went to Kedah
(Malaya), one Geudong (Samudra-Pase), one to Peusangan, and the fourth
son went to Keumangan (Gigieng) and the fifth one went to Glieng (Acheh
Proper).
They did not abandon their tradition and they maintained a close
brotherhood. These were, in some way or other, the causes of Panglima
Polem's great influence in Acheh.
After the death of Panglima Polem Raja Kuala in 1891, Raja Daud,
his son, succeeded him as Panglima Polem. He was assisted by his two
commanders, his brother-in-law T. Alibasyah of Geudong and T. Ibrahim
Montasik. He worked well with his father-in-law, Tuanku Hasyim. While
in his region, mukim XXII, he was collecting "holy money" and alms
from the people that almost reached $ 35,000.— to wage the fight against
the Dutch, Tuanku Hasyim was collecting gun powder at mukim VII
Pidie. 36 Working together with the ulamas, Tgk. Mait Tiro, Tgk. Klibeut,
Habib Lhong and Tgk. Pante Geulima, he built fortresses to face the Dutch
attack on mukim XXII.
In the year 1889, (16 years after the outbreak of the war), there
were also other hereditary chiefs, besides Panglima Polem, who had great
influence and were faithful disciples of the Sultan at Keumala. They were
(I) The chief of sagi mukim XXVI, T. Cut, about 17 years of age, stayed
at Keumala; (2) The chief of sagi mukim XXV, T. Sri Ulama, who stayed
at Patti, West Acheh; (3) T. Umar who was appointed as amirul bahri
(panglima laut, navy admiral) by Sultan Daud in West Acheh; (4) T. Man-
syur of Meulaboh; (5) Laksamana Andjung; (6) T. Cut Muda Latief
Syamsul bahri, the Sultan's war commander of North and East Acheh (he
was brother of uleëbalang Meureudu); (7) T. Bintara Cumbok, uleëbalang
mukim III Pidie, who together with T. Ben Titeuh became the reliable

3* Letter, Deykerhoff, op. cit.

36 According to K.F.H. van Langen in "Inrichting van het Atjehsche Staats-
bestuur onder het Sultanaat", BKI, 1888, pp. 392-3, Panglima Polem I was
the son of Sultan Iskandar Muda and his concubine from Abyssinia. Accor-
ding to Van Heutz, Panglima Polem was a descendant of Paduka Sri Sultan,
Said Al-Mukammil 'Inayatsyah (known to the people as Marhum Kahar)
who ran his administration around 1530. See, J.B. van Heutz, De Onder-
werping van Atjeh, ('s-Gravenhage : De Gebroeders van Cleef, 1893). pp.
48-49, and also the legend about his line of descent in S. Hurgronje, The
Achehnese, I, op. cit., p. 133.
s« Letter, DGA to GG, Kutaradja, January 18, 1896, no. 27/K in KG April
23, 1896, ARA Schaarsbergen.

153
 TEUKU IBRAHIM ALFIAN

advisers of the Sultan; (8) A number of hereditary chiefs and other im-
portant people within Acheh Proper and without.37
It was a pity that beside the good cooperation between the secular
elite and their fellow men, and between the religious elite and the secular
there were also some notable conflicts. One of them was the case of T. Ben
Keumala, chief mukim II Keumala had anak seudati (dance boys). Sultan
Muhammad Daud regarded seudati in war time as contrary to the teachings
of Islam.38 Since T. Ben Keumala did not yield to the frequent remindings
of the Sultan, the latter then sent his envoy to Ben Keumala. And when
they were ordered to stop the dance, a fight resulted where some persons
were killed and some other wounded. Tension arose accordingly. When
the Sultan went to Acheh Proper in 1888, T. Ben Keumala strengthened
his fortress to face him with the support of T. Ben Keumangan, the head
of the federation of the six mukims. Then the Sultan instructed T. Bintara
Cumbok to face T. Ben Keumala and punished him by giving the admi-
nistration of mukim II to Cumbok. The Sultan's attitude is in accordance
with the Achehnese custom because it is his right to do so.
In 1893 T. Umar surrendered to the Dutch and helped them to
destroy the "muslimin", the Achehnese troops. This event did not weaken
the fighting spirit of the Achehnese.
In the South-East area of mukim XXVI people kept on their fight
against the Dutch under their leaders as T. Husin Lueng Bata and Pocut
Mat Tahir; both were the Sultan's chief commanders; as for the East coast
of Acheh, T. Nya' Makam was appointed chief commander.
The Sultan, Tuanku Hasyim, and Tuanku Mahmud, sent letters to
T. Umar 30 telling him that his taking side wjlh the Dutch meant that he
had apostatized the religion of God and the Laws of the Prophet and the
head of the state, and had fought against Tgk. di Tiro and all other
moslems.
37 Note, E. van Assen, op. cit.
38 Ibid.
3» See, the copies of their letters to T. Umar, together with van Langen's to
Snouck Hurgronje, dated : Kutaradja, Oct. 3, 1893, Private, Oostersch
Instituut Leiden. The content of the Sultan's letter is as follows :
Sjahdan, maka kami memberi maklum akan tuan maka adapun seperti
kami ada mendengar chabar jang sahih akan hal tuan telah duduk ber-
paling tekuk bergisa akan agama Allah dan sjari'at Muhammad s.a.w. dan
akan kami jang ulil amri kedhahiran sjaichuna Tgk. di Tiro dan sekalian
muslimin dan mukminin dan mudjahidin dan murbatin bersama tuan dengan
Belanda maka pada pikir kami terlampaulah sangat kerugian diatas tuan
oleh karena terlampau lama tuan mendirikan agama dan sjari'at menger-
djakan perang sabilillah mengikuti sjaichuna Tgk. di Tiro (Tgk. Sjeeh
Saman) jang telah kerahmatullah 'alaihi h a t t a sampai kepada anaknja
ia tiba-tiba dengan sedikit berselisihan sudah kebalikan hati tuan melepas-
kan agama dan sjari'at dan adat pusaka turun temurun sekalian kita Islam
mendjadi sangat ter'adjiblah hati kami tuan punja perusahaan maka se-
karangpun hendaklah tuan ingat akan kuasa Allah dengan Rasul lazimlah
tuan kembali iktikad kepada djalan jang sebenarnja hanjalah jang segianja
[ sic. ] fiddunja wal achirah.

154
 ACHEH SULTANATE UNDER SULTAN MUHAMMAD DAUDSYAH

The letter further stated that T. Umar's action meant a great harm
to himself, because he had long been struggling to establish religion and
its law and waging the holy war in the example of the late Tgk. di Tiro.
Moreover, he was advised to return to take the right way (that is back to
waging the holy war, tagether with other moslems).
T. Umar left the Dutch and went back to fight for his country in
March 1893. The real reasons of his attitude was still a question. Probably,
he was afraid of the ulamas who made him their enemy; or he was not
well-treated by the Dutch or it was very likely because of the 'nfluence
of his wife, Cut Nya' Dhin who was very anti Dutch, i0 and the hostile
attitude of a great ulama, Tgk. Tanoh Abeë who qualified T. Umar and
his troops as "Kafir" or infidels. In a conference attended by the Sultan,
the uleëbalangs and the ulamas at Keude Male on July 25, 1898. decided
to re-appoint T. Umar as the field commander, and those who did not
participate in the fight had to contribute to the war expenses. T. Umar
died in the battle at Meulaboh on February 10, 1899.
How was the relation between the Sultan and the ulamas ? The two
letters to T. Umar previously discussed in the preceding pages had abviously
revealed the close relation between the Sultan and the ulamas and the great
respect the Sultan was harbouring towards Tgk. Ci' di Tiro Muhammad
Saman (died in 1891).
Through his sermons, this great ulama invited the people to wage
the holy war and, on behalf of the Sultan, to keep on fighting the Dutch.
In the case of the cooperative uleëbalangs forbidding their people to wage
the holy war, they would certainly disobey them, since Tgk. Chi' di Tiro
also spoke on behalf of the Sultan, and thus his legitimacy is always
felt. "
He wrote many letters to the Kompeni to leave Acheh, and to the
uleëbalangs and the Achehnese people to keep on fighting the Dutch. To
those who had cooperated with the Dutch, he wished them back to the
right way. *2
The Achehnese Sultan also had some authority on Tgk. Chi' di Tiro
Muhammad Saman. In early 1888 some of his followers were killed by
T. Cut Tungkob for the accusation of robbing his goods. 48
To prevent a serious conflict, the Sultan had asked Tgk. Chi' di
Tiro not to take revenge; and Tgk. Chi' di Tiro complied with him. 44
The cooperation between the Sultan and Tgk. Chi' di Tiro Muhammad
Amin, son of Tgk. Chi' di Tiro Muhammad Saman, was very good too.

40 Cut Nya' Dhin, because of her blindness, could no longer lead the fight.
She was captured and sent to Sumedang Pasundan (West Java) and died
there.
: Note, AR of Great Acheh, Goossens, Kutaradja : Dec. 1, 1888, Exh., Fe-
bruary 9, 1889. Kab. Lr. L / 3 , ARA Schaarsbergen.
a Letter of Teungku Chik di Tiro, University Library Leiden, Code Or. no. 7321.
i" Letter, DGA, Van Teijn to GG no. 107/K. App. A, April 14, 1888. KG, Sep-
tember 27, 1888 K 14, ARA Schaarsbergen.
i 4 Ibid.

155
 TEUKU D3RAHIM ALFIAN

Early in January 1898 the Sultan ordered Habib Samalanga of the

religious elite group to go along the northern shore of Acheh to stimulate
the uleëbalangs there in waging the holy war and make a joint attack on
Lho' Seumawe. 4S Besides, Habib sent two letters to T. Ben Syech
Meureudu : one containes the Sultan's urge on the Teuku to take side with
the movement of the holy war, and the other one asked him to supply
Tuanku Hasyim with money.46
Snouck Hurgronje's statement that the religious elite had important
roles in the fight against the Dutch is right. Through their sermons, the
ulamas were able to raise the spirit of the holy war in every Achehnese
mind so as to incite their willingness to die a martyr in defending the
religion and the country against the Dutch. Stories of the holy war, a
work of literature in the form of poetry, also have important roles to this
purpose.
Although one by one the hereditary chief had recognized the Dutch
sovereignty, the responsible ulamas continued the war consistently, even
after the Sultan's capitulation.
As regards the role of the ulamas in the Dutch war, a special study
is requisite too.

n
In order to run the course of the governmental administration
parallel with custom, it was one of the Sultan's duties to issue edicts of
recognition or sarakata under "the nine fold seals" (Cap sikureung) to
hereditary chiefs. Despite of the emergency of war and the lack of good
communication at that time, an attempt was made, besides keeping on
fighting, to settle all domestic affairs as far as it was possible. It is im-
practicable to write on all these, but a few cases taken from outside Acheh
Proper will be here considered sufficient for examples.
In the year 1886, Tuanku Mahmud was sent to West Acheh as
the Sultan's representative; he had tried to solve the existing conflict
between Muda Kuala, uleëbalang of Kuala Lambesi, and T. Umar of Daya
region. Tuanku Mahmud invited the Datuks, the ulamas and other influen-
tial people of this region to a consultation about the solution of the
existing problems and this was accepted by them all. 47 This means that
the Sultan had still a great influence.
To maintain the administration of mukim V Reubeë, the Sultan
granted a sarakata, officially appointing T. Bintara Udjong chief of the
district. 4a In 1889 another sarakata was also granted to T. Chik Ali Basjah
of Samalanga whose father was given the like in 1846.

45 Letter, DGA to GG, January 28, 1896, no. 27/K, ibid.

4« Ibid.
47 See, letter of Tuanku Mahmud, Sapar, 9, 1305 (Oct. 25, 1887), KG April 6,
1888/D 5, ARA Schaarsbergen.
4 s In September, 14, 1889, the chief signed a declaration of capitulation to the
Dutch.

156
 ACHEH SULTANATE UNDER SULTAN MUHAMMAD DAUDSYAH

When conflict arose between the uleëbalang of mukim II Areë,

T. Leumiek and T. Pakeh Muda Sulaiman (chief of federation mukim XII),
the latter requested the Sultan to replace T. Leumiek with T. Puteh.4*
By the Edict of Djumadil awal, 27, 1313 H (November 14, 1895), T. Puteh
was recognized as an uleëbalang and attributed the 'title of Bentara. Af-
terwards, a clash existed between T. Leumiek and T. Puteh. The latter
finally got the better over the first due to the arms and ammunition supply
received from T. Muda Sulaiman. The Sultan, then took some mediatory
actions which resulted in their reconciliation and afterwards followed by
the marriage between T. Puteh and T. Leumiek's sister. The Dutch attack
on Pidië in 1898, had caused the death of Teuku Leumiek and the capitu-
lation of T. Bintara Puteh in September 11, 1898. 50
By the sarakata of Djumadil awal 20, 1302 (1884) the young
Muhammad Aziz was officiary appointed uleëbalang of mukim III
Iboh; attributed the title of T. Bintara Biang Ranawangsa in success on to
his father who died 1877.
The Sultan took some efforts too in solving the domestic affairs at
mukim III Aron; when T. Chi' Daud who possessed an Edict from Sultan
Alaiddin Mansyur Syah died, and his son T,. Chi' Dullah succeeded him.
When later he died without having any children, he was succeeded by
Keujruën Raman. Early in 1898, not long before the Dutch came to
attack Pidië, the Sultan gave audience to Keujruën Raman at Garot where
Raman returned the old Edict and requested a new one. The Dutch attack,
unfortunately, had forced the Sultan to retreat before he could give him a
sarakata. In this attack Raman surrendered, but the Dutch did only trust
him slightly.81
Hot, Andeue and Metareum were first under the supremacy of
uleëbalangs of mukim XII Pidië. In 1870 those three mukims were taken
by the head of the six uleëbalangs federation Gigieng, T Bintara Pocut
Usman; but after the death of Usman civil war broke out. The Sultan and
T. Cumbok then took those three mukims and put them in the hands of
one of his relative, Tuanku Mahmud. Since then the three mukims were
called Tanah Wakaf of the Sultan.B2
The Sultan who retreated to Pasei area, went to Peusangan in July
1900, to re-plan the fight. There, he appointed Muhammad Ali Johor
Alamsyah as a T. Chi' (chieftain) of Peusangan. Thus were some examples
worth presenting.
The Achehnese efforts of not making themselves yield to the enemy
had forced the Duitch to use every possible means 'to face them.63

4» Son of his eldest uncle, T. di Kruëng.

so "Mededeelingen Betreffende de Atjehsche Onderhoorigheden", BKI, 1903.
pp. 55-56.
*i See Koloniaal Verslag, 1902.
52 Wakaf means, the property (land or income), free from common use being
devoted to some purpose permitted by the Muhammadan law
53 See : J.M. Somer, De Korte Verklaring (Breda : Corona, 1934) pp. 204-35.

157
 TEUKU IBRAHIM ALFIAN

Beginning with the Van Swieten - system wanting to destroy the Achehnese
Sultanate, Pel's programmes with its so called "posten-Unie", systematic
attrition, civil governmental system, divide et impera policy up to the
approach of Sultan, which will be the object of the discussion below, these
all were no powerful means for the Dutch to conquer Acheh. A notable
case may be presented here for further illustration. The capture of the
British ship "Nisero" in 1884 and the arrest of its crew by Raja Teunom
had been a real problem for the Dutch. Not being able to settle 'this with
the English, the then Dutch Assistant Resident had accepted the suggestion
ol a certain Nya' Haji, i.e. allowing him to kill Raja Teunom with a
reward of $ 2,000,— 54 This had provoked a formal protest from the
British realizing the Dutch incompetency in administrating Acheh.
As the efforts of conquering Acheh was felt to be the harder, the
Dutch Governor in Acheh, Laging Tobias launched an on-the-spot proposal
to overcome the critical moment. In January 7, 1884, he suggested to the
Governor General the "restoration" of the Achehnese Sultanate, keeping
the Sultan as the Dutch puppet, s5 but The Hague refused it.
In August 20, 1884, the Dutch learned about the existing conflict
between the Sultan and Tuanku Hasyim. They assumed the conflict as
originating from Tuanku Hasyim's refusal to give "the nine fold seals"
to the Sultan. The Dutch used this effectively. Where there was a chance
the Dutch would seize every opportunity to separate the two since this was
considered strictly necessary if they should conquer Acheh. 56 The Dutch
then sent the cousin of [the Sultan, Tuanku Husin from Kutaraja, to Pidië
to make a plot with T. Pakeh, chief of Pidië, for the Dutch interest. 57
The Dutch Governor also sent a letter to the Sultan hoping him to have
a milder attitude towards the Dutch and to come to Kutaraja where he
would be received as a friend, and that his status would be arranged later. 58
There were no fixed promises in this letter. Soon after Tuanku
Husin left, the Dutch learned of the reconciliation between Tuanku Hasyim
and the Sultan and that the most important attribute of the Achehnese
Sultanate, "the nine fold seals" was already in the hands of the Sultan;
Husin came back unsuccessfully.
Realizing this situation, the Dutch official, Assistant Resident E.
van Assen was so desperate that he sent a letter to the Dutch Minister
of Colonial Affairs saying that the only thing that would help the Dutch

54 Letter DGA to GG no. : 641/Secret, April 12, 1884, in KG June 18, 1884,
R 11, ARA Schaarsbergen.
s;> Letter, no. : 67/stricly confidential, KG, June 18, 1884, R 11, ARA Schaars
bergen.
sfl Note, van Assen, op. cit.
57 Letter, DGA to GG, Kutaradja, August 27, 1884. Secret, no. : 1398/1, KG
October 17, 1884, op. cit.
s* Ibid.

158
 ACHEH SULTANATE UNDER SULTAN MUHAMMAD DAUDSYAH

to get a good hold in Acheh was the death of Tuanku Hasyim.59 But
despite of the death of Tuanku Hasyim, the hero of the Achehnese people,
in January 16-17, 1897 at Padang Tiji, G0 the Sultan of Acheh did not
even think of surrendering himself to the Dutch; he kept on fighting.
In his secret decree of December 20, 1886, Governor General
Otto van Rees, ordered the Dutch Governor of Acheh, Demmeni, that
politically he should seize every opportunity to contact the Sultan and
other influential people around him, but should avoid revealing the im-
pression of the Dutch eagerness for a contact. 01 Besides, the course of
policy in 1888 was that the governor should avoid interference with any
affair outside Acheh Proper, as long as the Sultan in Keumala did not
want to surrender.62 Even so, to oppose T. Umar and Tuanku Mahmud
and T. Jusuf, the representative of Tgk. di Tiro in West Acheh, the Dutch
navy would — as far as it was possible — close certain parts of the coast
of Acheh for import, export and fishing.03
In response to the suggestions of the Dutch Governor General in
Acheh, the Minister of Colonial Affairs in the Netherlands sent a letter
agreeing on the giving out of allowances to some of the hereditary chiefs
outside the "posten Unie" in order to secure the surrender of the Sultan
and of other chiefs. 64 The minister further trusted the Governor General
to carry out his task as far as it would not upset the financial resources
ot the Government in the Netherlands-Indies.or'
The Dutch officials had started thinking of other tactics, because
thus far, they had not had any success at all. Three years before Snouck
Hurgronje arrived at Acheh, Assistant Resident Goossens in his note,
dated December 1, 1888, had suggested that the Dutch should isolate
the anti Dutch ulamas as Tgk. Chi' di Tiro cs. and support the moderate
ulamas by helping them spread their influence and power.fi0 The suggestion
was based on the facts that the religious elite were very influential in
raising the holy war and their being loy^il partners of the Sultan in fighting
the Dutch.
In the meantime the Sultan, Panglima Polem, T. Umar, who in
early 1898 were at Garot and Areë, called the hereditary chiefs of Pidië
region for consultation about the means of fighting the Dutch. Those who

oo Note, van Assen, op. cit.

ao Telegram DGA to GG, January 23, 1897, HO. 64, KG April 13, 1897, ARA.
Scbaarsbergen.
ei Decree, GG, Dec. 20, 1886, Secret/Cab. no. 1, in Geheime Oost-Indische
Besluiten (OIB) 1886, ARA Schaarsbergen.
62 Letter, GG to DGA, Sept. 31, 1888, Kab. C no. 2, KG 13 April 1888, Q5,
ARA Schaarsbergen.
es ibid.
6i Letter, Min. of Col. Affairs to GG, April 13, 1888, no. Kab/Litt. Q 5/n 27,
ibid.
65 ibid.
c« Note, AR Goossens, in Exh. Febr. 9, 1889, Kab. Lr. L3, ARA Schaarsbergen.

159
 TEUKU IBRAHIM ALFIAN

did not come, would be repudiated by the Sultan and their ranks would
be handed to other loyal chiefs. When the meeting took place on April
1, 1898, there were only a few who did not come; while T. Bintara Cumbok
and many other uleëbalangs declared their loyalty to the Sultan and prom-
ised to keep on waging the holy war. °7
To solve the intricate problems of Acheh, Dr. Snouck Hurgronje
came with his proposals68 — one of which was similar to that of
Goossens — then formulated in an order coming from Governor General
W. Rooseboom in 1898 to Van Heutz, the figure who was considered to
be capable of carrying it out with "iron hands". It contained prohibitions
for any one to have personal contact with either the Sultan, or the
uleëbalangs or the ulamas. As long as they would not surrender, there
was one policy only, it was to master them, and to fine those who helped
the Achehnese fighters in accordance with their income. 8U Van Heutz,
accompanied by Snouck Hurgronje and backed with powerful troops and
some ships attacked Pidië which were then the stronghold of the Sultan
and many other Achehnese leaders. This attack had struck a heavy blow
on the Achehnese, it had also forced the surrender of many of the
uleëbalangs.
In November 1899, P. Polem and the Sultan retreated to Gajo,
where the fighting spirit was very high. It was also from here that the
Sultan was provided with supply and fighters.
But the fight was kept continuing; and the leading characters
(in 1900) were as follows : (1) The Sultan of Acheh, (2) Tuanku Raja
Keumala, son of Hasyim, (3) Tuanku Manyapayet, (4) Panglima Polem,
(5) Tgk. di Lam U (teacher of P. Polem), (6) T. Johan Lampaseh, (7)
Ulama Tgk. Lam Seunong, (8) Ulama Tgk. di Krueng Kale, (9) Ulama
Tgk. Tanoh Mirah, (10) Pocut Mat Tahir, (11) Ulama Tgk. Haji Cut
Plieng, (12) T. Ben Peukan Meureudu, (13) T. Muda Cut Latif, (14) Ulama
Tgk. Pante Geulima from Meureudu, (15) T. Muda Lateh from Blang Me,
(16) Nya'Mat from Peureulak, (17) Ulama Tgk. di Mata Ië, (18) Ulama
Tgk. di Barat (at Pasei), (19) Tgk. di Beureueh, (20) Ulama Tgk. di Krueng
Cot (Senagan, west Acheh), (21) T. Ben Biang Pidië (West Acheh), and
(22) Teungkus from Tiro, Tgk. Chi' Mayet and Tgk. di Bukit.
A more callous tactic was then launched by the Dutch. In November
1902, their troops captured the two wives of the Sultan and their children.
An ultimatum was then sent by the Dutch Governor to the Sultan stating
that the wives would be exiled if the Sultan did not surrender within one
month's time.
0T "Mededeelingen betreffende de Atjehsche Onderhoorigheden", op. cit., (1903),
p. 59.
6i< Two other proposals were : not to contact the Sultan, as long as he had
not yet surrendered, and to get the confidence from those who had surren-
dered the Dutch developed, among other things, the trade and agriculture.
Gobee and Adriaanse, op. cit., pp. 95-96.
e» Letter of GG to DGA, no. 1/Secret, September 9, 1899, in Kab. March 5,
1900, P3, ARA Schaarsbergen.

160
 ACHEH SULTANATE UNDER SULTAN MUHAMMAD DAUDSYAH

The Sultan had nothing but to stop the open war after instructing
Tgk. Chi' di Tiro and Panglima Polem to keep on fighting. Before he
surrendered in January 10, 1903 the Dutch had already proclaimed that
"the restoration of the Sultanate" referred to before was now out of ques-
tion. Using the same tactics — i.e. the capture of Panglima Polem's
family — the Dutch secured his surrender in September of the same year.
Captain H. Colijn (later : Dutch Premier) was the eyewitness to this event.
Agreeing upon Snouck Hurgronje's opinion, the Dutch stated that
the Sultan's capitulation did not much affect the Achehnese warriors, but
otherwise, that of P. Polem 70 did,. Hjis surrender was decisive to the
Achehnese defeat, even if it was later than the Sultan's. Opposing the Dutch
the writer here is of opinion that it was the Sultan's capitulation which
had really affected many Achehnese and their surrender to the Dutch.
This is based on the statement sent by T. Nanta, uleëbalang of mukim
VI to Laging Tobias, which can be translated as follows :
I am old enough and will die soon. I want to die at mukim VI,
where I was born and had lived, that 's why I am ready to sur-
render, but I can not, because I have taken my oath not to sur-
render. All of us have taken the same oath. Those who surrendered
were not because of their willingness, or if they did indeed willing-
ly, what can be expected from those people, who have denied their
oath to the Sultan ? I will try to deliver the Sultan to you; if he
has surrendered, and I will do the same. 71

III

In their struggle against the Dutch domination, the Achehnese elite

can be divided into some categories. First, those consistent in fighting the
Dutch, whom they regarded as Kafir (infidels) who had destroyed the
Achehnese traditional way of life. Most of 'the religious elite and part of
the secular elite belong to this category; they kept on fighting despite of
the Sultan's capitulation to the Dutch. Next, there is a group of people
v/ho adapted themselves to the institutions created by the Dutch Colonialism.
There is another group of people who had surrendered to the Dutch for
their own interest; they are called "the marginal men", and they still helped
the Achehnese fighters secretly. Another group is that of the people who
had surrendered but they felt themselves not able to adapt themselves to
the aftermath of the Dutch penetration, so that they went back to the
defence of traditional values; some of them died a martyr. The last category
is the group of people who surrendered to the Dutch, but did not integrate
themselves with the Dutch; they were exiled or doing private business, or
become apathetic.
The Sultan's life after 1903 will now be examined briefly. The
Dutch provided him with a very comfortable house and a monthly allowance
of 1200 Gulden; his son was sent to school; yet, the attempts of the
TO Hotz, op. cit., pp. 60-1.
Ti Letter, Laging Tobias, no. : 67/Strictly confidental, loc. cit.

161
 TEUKU IBRAHIM ALFIAN

Assistant Resident asking his cooperation had all been in vain. His life
here was far better than that of his geurilla years when he had to fight
through jungles and hills, but he was by no means happy. His fighting
spirit and his anti Dutch feeling were still great as ever.
Since his surrender the Sultan was still permitted to go to every
place he liked in Acheh Proper, but otherwise a special permission should
be obtained from the Dutch. In the earlier years of his capitulation he
often went to Pidië and Lho'Seumawe, where he sometimes stayed for three
months. The Dutch intelligence service revealed that Sultan had succeeded
in making contact with the guerilla leaders, who were his former second
commanders in his troops or who were related by marriage. His messengers
were Panglima Nya'Hasan and Nya'Abas, whom he supported with money
and other materials to keep on fighting. He also sent some money to
Tgk. di Pidië who was then arrested at Sigli.72 He maintains good relations
with fighters of lower class.
When the Dutch searched his house on August 1907, a bundle of
letters was found, two of which came from people who were about to
be executed by the Dutch; one asking him to notify his wife as well as
give him a "kenduri" (funeral feast) with recitation of the Quran for the
benefit of the dead, in three days and three nights; and the other one
told him who the convincing witnessess were and requested him to notify
his wife of his death at the gallows.73
The Dutch stated that it was a general knowledge — also of the
Achehnese — that the Sultan could easily order with a single word the
surrender of the guerilla leaders, Keuchi' Seuman and Keujruen Truseb.74
This is another proof of the Sultan's authority. But the Sultan did not
do such a thing.
In March 6, 1907, there was a night attack on Kutaraja. The
Dutch realized after months of investigation, that this attack was led by
Keuchi' Seuman and Panglima Usuh, who had been supported with money,
food supply, shelter and guidance by Panglima Nya' Hasan, Nya' Abas
and Keuchi' Syech, and planned by Sultan Daud, T. Johan, Panglima
Nya' Hasan and Nya' Abas stated above.
Surely, every one would feel the nesessity for the Dutch to bring
the Sultan to court; but Governor van Daalen, in his secret letter 75 sent
to the Governor General, requested that the case should be avoided since
the position of the Sultan in the eyes of the Achehnese people was still
high; the Sultan's trial in court would only excite the Achehnese. The letter
72 See, the letter of Sultan Muhammad Daud to Tgk. di Pidië as a supplement
of the letter of van Daalen to GG no. 13/secret, Kutaradja : February 10,
1908, in MR no. 455-38, V. Oct. 12, 1908. T 19, Ministerie van Binnenlandse
Zaken, Den Haag.
73 See, their letters, ibid.
74 See, letter of Gov. van Daalen to GG, no. 131/secret, Kutaradja : July 16,
1907, in MR 1218, in V November 29, 1907, X 23, Ministerie van Binnen-
landso Zaken, Den Haag.
75 ibid.

162
 ACHEH SULTANATE UNDER SULTAN MUHAMMAD DAUDSYAH

also stated the fear that witnesses might have no courage to speak or they
would deny their statements for fear of revenge or harm coming from the
Sultan's side. Besides, van Daalen also stated that the Sultan's prosecution
at Padang,76 would only give a verdict of brief exile from Acheh whereas
considering the Sultan's position and his past actions, van Daalen agreed
on his being exiled from Acheh for good.
Furthermore, van Daalen suggested that the Sultan and his son,
Tuanku Ibrahim and T. Johan, Panglima Nya' Hasan, Nya' Abas and
Keuchi' Syech should be exiled off Sumatra, but still within the area of
the Netherlands Indies and in separate places. The Dutch Government
accepted the suggestions and carried them out.
The Sultan's being in his native country was regarded as endangering
the security and order of the state since he had struggled against the Dutch
for more than 30 years.
The year 1907 brought a bright prospects for the ulamas and
moslems in general. Their attack on Seudu and Peukan Bada (Acheh
Proper) this year, was also due to the influential activities of the Sultan.
How was the public opinion on the Sultanate? The Dutch stated
that in Acheh Proper, the Achehnese strongly believed that Tuanku
Ibrahim, the son of the Sultan, upon finishing his study at Bandung would
be made Sultan.77 In relation with this, one of the Sultan's relatives,
Tuanku Husin, said to Pocut Meurah that if Ibrahim Po was made a
Sultan, his son, Sulaiman, would be the prime minister.78 In one of the
court sessions, to solve a case at Lam Nyong near Kutaraja, the Dutch
District Officer would not conform with the Achehnese Customary Law.
Accordingly T. Daud Silang told the people outside the court building
that Achehnese law was abandoned. He declared further that the uleëbalangs
would be able to abide by their custom as before upon Tuanku Ibrahim's
return from Bandung and thus carrying out the orders of the true king.7*
Such were the hopes of the return of the Achehnese Sultanate to power
which then existed.
Some letters had already been mentioned, i.e. those found when
the Dutch searched the Sultan's home. Some of them had led to an
assumption of the existing contact with Japan asking for help. 80
Acheh was indeed harbouring some hopes of getting arms from
Japan. The letters from the two ulamas at Pase, Tgk. di Mata Ië and
Tgk. di Matang Ubi 8 1 were proofs enough. It seems to be true that t h e

76 Through chapt. 15, art. 1 of Staatsblad 1881, no. : 83 in relation to chapt.

3 art. 10 of Staatsblad 1867 juncto Staatsblad 1869.
77 ibid.
7s Ibid.
7 s Ibid.
so j . Kreemer, Atjeh. (Leiden : E.J. Brill, 1922). V.l., p. 42.
si H.T. Damste, "Atjehsche Oorlogspapieren", Indische Gids (IG), (1912), pp.
787-88.
163
 TEUKU IBRAHIM ALFIAN

victory of an Asian country upon Russia, a western country, had its in-
fluences too upon Acheh. Another letter was the secret letter of T. Husin
Uleë Gajah to the Sultan telling him that upon Snouck Hurgronje's
investigation T. Kadli Malikul-Adil had told the Dutch of the Sultan's
effort, together with Tuanku Mahmud, T. Panglima Polem and Keram Yusuf,
asking Tuanku Raja Keumala to contact Japan. 82 As whether the in-
formation about Kadli Malikul-Adil was based on facts or not it is still
arguable.
Two other letters came from two Indians, Mana Pakir and Ghulam
Ghouse asking expenses from the Sultan and discussing help from Japan.
Was it true that the Sultan had his part in this?
In Singapore, the Dutch Consul General had made photo-copies
ol some letters pawned by a certain Indian, Ghulam Ghouse, to a European.
These letters were assumed as originating from Sultan Daud. One of them
was written to the Japanese Emperor, dated Sigli and Kutaraja, Rajab
10, 1323 (September 20, 1905) consisting of 12 points, of which the most
important were as follows : (1) The Sultan of Acheh has given full power
and authority to his plenipotentiary Mr. Ghouse to transact on his behalf,
to the extent of entering into any treaty, borrowing money, or even to
submit the whole of the territories of Acheh to another power. (2) The
Sultan has not failed to prosecute the war against the Dutch and any
concessions made to them of agreements entered into have been merely
to relieve the distress of his subjects who are crying out under the op-
pression of the Dutch rule. (3) The Sultan rejoices at the successes by
land and sea of the Japanese arms, and prays that the Japanese Emperoi
will have pity upon the people of Acheh and will come to the assistance
of the Sultan and free the country of Acheh from the Dutch rule, to
which it has never submitted after over forty years of war. 83
There was also an indenture of statory mortgage from the Sultan,
dated January 2, 1898, pawning Acheh for $ 500,000. to Ghulam Ghouse
at Penang for ten years, which amount bearing an interest of 24% and
after maturity of ten years at 36% per annum.
In his letter to the Secretary of States, Colonial Offices in London.
Ghulam asked the protection of the British Government for the acquisition
of the main amount and its interest from the Sultan. 81 He also stated
that he had supplied the Sultan with goods, cattle and general provisions
in 1897 of $ 500,000.— worth.
Upon close examinations, however, the Sultan's seal in Ghulam
Gheuse's documents did not conform with the original.85 The original seal
has eight small circles around the big one in the middle and read clockwise
from the top would reveal the names of the following Sultans : (1) Ah-

82 MR 455-08, loc. cit.

8? See photo-copy mentioned in Vb. Oct. 12, 1908, T-19, loc. cit.
84 Letter of Ghouse, Kuala Lumpur, May 8, 1907, ibid.
an See the Sultan'a seal in Snouck Hurgronje, The Achehnese, Vol. L p. 129

164
 ACHEH SULTANATE UNDER SULTAN MUHAMMAD DAUDSYAH

madsyah, (2) Johansyah, "(3) Mahmudsyah, (4) Jauhar Alamsyah, (5)

Mansyursyah, (6) Saidi Al-Mukammal, (7) Meukuta Alam, (8) Tajul Alam.
Both Ghouse's documents bear the following names, respectively :
(1) Meukuta Alam, (2) Saidi Al-Mukammal, (3) Mansyursyah, (4) Jauhar
Alamasyah, (5) Mahmudsyah, (6) Johansyah, (7) Ahmadsyah, (8) Tajul
Alam. Moreover, the signature of Sultan Daud in the Ghouse's documents
differs from that in his letters found by the Dutch at the home of Tuanku
Husin on August 21, 1907. The signature in the letter to the Japanese
Emperor was round and short, whereas the Sultan's handwriting in his
letters to Tuanku Husin was spidery and long. 86
As regards the mortgage the following facts would prove its falsity.
Ghouse had once presented himself to the Dutch Consul in Singapore,
Borger, telling him that given a reward he would be quite willing to submit
the Sultan's documents he possessed. He stated that the Sultan had bor-
rowed $ 12,000.— from him and that the Sultan was not able to repay
him. He was thus ready to hand in the documents to the Government of
the Netherlands-Indies.87 It is unbelievable that a man who could lend
others a sum of half a million dollars would have any difficulty in finding
expenses for a mere telegram at the post office.88 It is obvious then that
the mortgage was also false.
Despite of the legal help from Allen and Gledhill, a solicitors' firm
at Singapore, Ghouse had failed to claim $ 2,787,200.—80 from the Dutch
Government; an amount he had "lent" to the Sultan until January 2, 1908,
its interest included.
It is already mentioned that the Sultan's role in the 1907 attack
had led him to his exile. It is not because of the accusation of seeking
contact with Japan. Had not the Sultan's authority been so great, the Dutch
would not have made such an effort to arrest him. The existence of a
private suit had opened a chance for the Dutch to invite the Sultan and
Tuanku Husin to the Assistant Resident's office. They came but the case
could not be solved until August 21, 1907. They came again on that day
accordingly. However, the Dutch then accused them of having taken part
in the Kutaraja attack. They were told to leave for Batavia but the Sultan
angrily protested and consequently declared that he preferred death to
leaving his country.00 It was only due to long persuasion and the help
of a brigade of marechaussee under Lt. Scheffer that the Dutch was finally
able to take them on board the s.s. "Java" which was, in fact, planned
long before to effect their exile.01

86 See, letter DGA to GG, June 16, 1908, no. 87/secret, V Oct. 12, 1908 — T 19.
loc. cit.
87 Letter, Borger, July 17, 1905, no. 347/U secret, quoted from ibid
8S Letter, Ghouse to Sultan Daud, MR 455-08, loc. cit.
s» Letter, Ghouse to GG, May 15, 1908, MR 1266/08, ibid
»o Letter, DGA to GG, July 29, 1908, 124/Secret in V October 12, 1908, T 19.
loc. cit.
»l Ibid.

165
 TEUKU IBRAHIM ALFIAN

The fact that he was still in his exile in 1935 had not even reduced
his influence amongst the Achehnese. When A.J. Piekaar, then District
Officer, visited uleëbalang Cumbok on the occasion of Idulfitri that same
year he saw the Sultan's picture on the wall. Surprisingly the uleëbalang
told him that it was the picture of his leader. 92

To sum up, the Sultan has obviously had much influence upon the
Achehnese politics and did, indeed, do much harm to the Dutch. The
weaknesses of the Achehnese were really due to first, the antagonism
amongst them which arose as response to the challenge from the West,
and secondly the lack of coordination and modern tactics and strategy.

02 Interview with Dr. A.J. Piekaar (now Director General of the Sciences,
Ministry of Education) at The Hague, March 7, 1968.

166
 THE BERATIB BEAMAAL MOVEMENT IN
THE BANJAR WAR *
SOERI SOEROTO
GADJAH MADA UNIVERSITY

I
The Banjar War manifests itself as the struggle between the people
of the Banjar Sultanate in South Borneo and the Dutch colonial power
with its political expansion toward the establishment of the Pax Neerlandica
in the nineteenth century. The war can be divided into two main periods :
(1) the period of 1859-1863 which is characterized by big skirmishes
and (2) the period of 1863 -1905 which consists of sporadic and defensive
resistance by the Banjarese. Of these two periods the focus of discussion
will be given on the first one, particularly the short episode at the end.
What is interesting to present, is the appearance of the religious elites on
the scene to take directly the command of the combat. Before the appearance
of this phenomenon these ehtes had already participated actively in the war
where the secular elites played their predominant role.
The resistance led by this religious group was in the so-called The
Beratib Beamaal movement. 2 Beraub, which is similar to dhikir, means
originally glorifying the Greatness of the Almighty, while beamaal conveys
the idea of the performances of good works. But in the historical setting
of the Banjar War these words had the connotation of "a petition to the
Almighty to obtain invulnerability" to enable to fight the infidels.8
The purpose of this paper is to explain the Beratib Beamaal mo-
vement as a historical phenomenon both within the context of the Banjar
War in general and as a unique movement itself in particular.

* Paper presented at the Vth IAHA Conference, Manila, 1971.

i The author assumes t h a t the Banjar War does not only last from 1859
to 1863. Although no heavy fightings took place after 1863, but resistance
was still underway until 1905 when the last Banjarese traditional secular
leader, Prince M. Seman, found his death in a battle far away in the upper
hinterland, that ended the war.
2 Informations on this subject can be found in Encyclopaedic van Neder-
landsch Indie (Encyclopaedia of the Dutch Indies) Vol. I; J. Veth, Het
Beratib Beamaal in Bandjarmasin" (The Beratib Beamaal m Bandjarmasin)
TNI n (1869) pp. 197-202; WA. Van Rees, De Bandjarmasinsche Krrjg
van ' 1859-1863 (The Banjarmasin War from 1859-1863) (Arnhem : D A .
Thieme, 1865), Vol. TL. pp. 186.
3 Beratib or dhikir is a religious ritual, usually performed in a way of sitting
on the floor and concentrating one's attention to the Almighty while reciting
praising verses on the Greatness of God. Beamaal means in this connection
p r a y i n l for God in order to obtain something wanted. See Shorter Encyclo-
pedia of islam, ed. by H.A.R., Gibb and J.H. Kramers (Itnaca, N.Y. : Cornell
University Press, 1953), p. 570; W.J.S. Poerwodarminto, Kamus Umum
Bahasa Indonesia (A General Dictionary of the Indonesian Language)
(Djakarta : Perpustakaan Perguruan Tinggi Kementerian P.F K., u o 4 ) ,
p. 28.
167
 SOERI SOEROTO
13Q 3 H T

il
It seems appropriate to illustrate briefly the course of the events
before the emergence of the movement. The actual fighting of the Banjar
War openly broke out at the end of April 1859, when mass assaults, led
by Prince Antasari and Sultan Kuning,4 were simultaneously launched
upon Dutch establishments at Kalangan, Gunung Djabuk, Pengaron and
Tabanio. Following these assaults successive attacks were directed to other
Dutch positions at Muarabahan, Pulo Petak and Banjarmasin itself, as
the center of the Dutch administration; foreign missionary stations at
Tangohan (in the Kapuas area) and Buntas (in the Lower Kahajan area)
were also assailed. The assailants, thousands in number, were recruited
mainly from the local villages by the Banjarese traditional leaders, especially
the secular ones. These secular as well as the religious groups were working
towards a similar goal, and that was to drive out the Dutch, both as a
colonial political power and infidels.
The offensive strikes of the mass movements lasted only for about
eight months since the outbreak of the armed conflict. The Dutch at the
outset were very surprised because of their misunderstanding of the real
situation and suffered a heavy shock when they heard about the horrible
slaughter of the whites in the attacked establishments by the armband.6
But after having succeeded to consolidate their forces and got ad-
ditional troops from Java, ° the Dutch were easily able to alter the military
situation. Though relatively small in number compared with the Banjarese,
they were in some respects superior which later became determinant factors
in the course of the war. Their troops were well-trained. They were well-
armed, well-organized and maintained a high standard of military discipline.

* Prince Antasari was a descendant of the ousted Prince Amir in 1787, who
was supposed to be the successor of the throne. Accordingly Antasari was
isolated from the royal family and had no official occupation. Sultan Kuning
was the name of a revolutionary leader of peasant origin who had been
successful in stirring up his followers to take up arms. He was going to
set up a new, just and prosperous kingdom and was one of the prominent
figures in the Muning movement. His followers were strongly convinced
that he possessed a supra-natural power. J.J. Meijer, "Voor "veertig Jaren
te Banjarmasin" (For forty Years in Banjarmasin), I.G., XXI (1899), p. 668.
* Information that a revolt would break out had been received by the Dutch,
but they did not consider it seriously and thought that the rebellion would
be directed to the sultan. In Gunung Djabuk seven, in Tabanio three and
in Kalangan twenty-one Dutch were killed. E.B. Kielstra. De Ondergang
van het Bandjarmasinsche Rijk (The Decline of the Banjar Kingdom)
(reprinted out of the Indische Gids, 1893, Leiden : E.J. de Brill, 1892)
pp. 140-151; 152; W.A. Van Rees, op. cit. I, p. 64.
« In April 1859 additional troops of 230 men and in June one battalion in-
fantry enforced by artillery landed in Banjarmasin. W.A. van Rees, op cit
I, pp. 63; 67.

168
 THE BBRATIB BEAMAAL. M O V E M E N T

The Dutch took over gradually the initiative of the combat and started
to launch decisive strikes, primarily against the forces of Prince Antasari
and Sultan Kuning.
The Banjarese were forced to make a continuous retreat from the
Banjar Proper area in which the previous eight months long drama had taken
place. Their defense positions were one by one conquered. Both sides suffered
heavy losses, particularly among the Banjarese. The fall of one fortress
was quickly replaced by another new one, hastily built up for renewed
consolidation and defense. The battle ground was gradually removed to
Tanah Laut in the south and Hulu Sungei in the north. 7 But even in
these new areas the Banjarese could not feel themselves secure against
successive assaults of the Dutch.
To command the vast combat area in which the Banjarese replaced
their open fighting system with guerrilla warfare, the Dutch developed the
fortress system supported by intensive military operations. After Major
Verspijck in 1860 had both the civil and military government in his hand,
more expeditions were sent far into the hinterland to constitute heavy
blows to the concentration bases of the enemy. This intensification of
military operations made the defensive positions of the Banjarese very
difficult. All their defense system, in fact, did not prevent the advance
of the Dutch. They were pushed back toward the mountainous hinterland
and isolated from the rural areas where they obviously obtained important
material support. In general, by the end of 1861 their resistance underwent
a serious crisis. The spirit of fighting was declining. Many ceased to fight
and returned to their villages. On the other hand the Dutch were also
successful in persuading most of the people not to take part in the struggle
any longer. Peace and order to a certain extent was restored. Heavy
punishment was imposed on those who kept fighting or disturbed the peace
and order that had been recovered.
The successive defeats were one of the main condition that caused
such a crisis among the Banjarese. But meanwhile a new burst of fighting
started again. Mass assaults were launched against Dutch positions. These
new armed activities were in fact organized by the religious rural elites.
They directly took the command. Their fighting was characterized by pre-
dominantly religious sentiments and carried out by the Beraub Beamaal
movement.

Ill
After having performed the beraub beamaal ritual the participants
were usually ready to fight. They were sometimes hundreds in number,
equipped with spears, swords and several fire-arms, and wore white cloaks

T Through Tanah Laut the Banjarese brought in fire-arms from abroad; Hulu
Sungei, which is on the Negara river plain, is a fertile, and densely populated
area which at that time was engaged actively in agriculture, industry and
trade. The population were well-known for their strong warlike character.

169
 SOERI SOEROTO

and turbans. 8 As a fighting force they were just armed bands similar to
what the Banjarese had been previously during the war. But there are some
features that distinguished them from the previous fighting forces. First,
they were led by religious rural eûtes instead of secular ones. In iden-
tifying themselves, these leaders wore yellow cloaks and turbans. Second,
they were cohesively tied by the charisma of their leaders. But once they
lost them the cohesiveness of the bands would break down. Third, being
strongly convinced that they were invulnerable after having participated
in the beraub beamaal ritual, they were very courageous. Moreover, the
magical or supra-natural power of their leaders was regarded also as to
give them protection any moment they were with them.
Once these fanatic moslems took part in the movement they would
blindly obeyed their religious leaders and ready to carry out any order
given to them. In a battle they would storm into the enemy without caring
of being shot down. Sometimes to raise the fighting spirit before launching
an attack, the vanguards performed a careless dance in front of the enemy.
After they were close to their opponents, in a very highly emotional state
and shouting "Lila ill'allah" or "Allah u Akbar" they stormed into the
enemy's front line. °
They were used to fight in an open battle instead of fighting behind
the wooden fortresses. In some circumstances, after the ritual, they had
not been able to move out of the mosque, so that they had to utilize it
as a bastion to counter the assaulting enemy.
In general, however, they were mobile, moving from one village
or one area to another. They emerged sporadically. The villagers were
dragged and forced if they refused to join the movements. The districts
of Kaluwa, Amuntei, Allei, all are located in the northern part of Hulu
Sungei, became their operation fields. The movements obtained here a lot
of followers, who were wellknown as firm fighters.10 This means that to
a certain extent some of the villagers were still willing to take up arms.
Although the movements lasted only for about one year, and were
then successfully crushed down, the fanaticism and blind courage of their
adherents caused a serious concern to the Dutch. The sporadic and moving
positions forced the colonial government to raise again intensive military
expeditions. Skirmishes took place everywhere these two confronting parties
encountered each other.

« Such costumes were also worn by' the members of the Padri Movement
in West Sumatra. By wearing them they looked tall and impressive. H.M.
Lange, Het Nederlandsch Oost-Indisch Leger ter Westkust van Sumatra
(1819-1845) (The Netherland East Indish Army in the Westcoast of Sumatra
(1819-1845) ('s Hertogenbosch : Gebroeders Muller, 1954), I, p. 15.
» P.J Veth, "Het Beratib Beamaal in Bandjarmasin" (The Beratib Beamaal
in Banjarmasin), TNI, II (1869), p. 197. The right verse is as follows :
"La ilaha ilia 'illahu".
io W.K.H. Feuilleteau de Bruijn, "Aanteekeningen over de Maleiers en Dajak-
kers van Hoeloe Soengei" (Notes on the Malaya and Dajaks of Hulu Sungei)
(Koliniaal Tijdschrift, 23st jaargang, 1933), p. 284.

170
 THE BERATIB BEAMAAL M O V E M E N T

In facing the Beratib Beamaal movements the Dutch used force as

well as verbal counter-propaganda. Through campaign launched by pro
Dutch religious leaders, the colonial government tried to assure the people
by stating 'that the Beratib Beamaal was a bad movement; that it gave false
teaching contrary to the Holy Koran; the reciting of the Koranic verses
only let the people astray and made them believe in invulnerability by
which they were dragged into offending against the law, namely opposing
by force the legal government; it brought them merely down into misery.
Accordingly heavy punishment would be imposed on anyone who was
suspected of taking part in giving support or protection to the followers
of the movement.11 It is most probable that the measures taken of applying
both force and propaganda in fighting the Beratib Beamaal movements had
brought forth a brilliant result. The movements finally vanished.
The combat in Djatoh, a village in Allei district, will probably give
us the idea and illustration how this religious band waged a war. One morning
a group of about two hundred men of the Beratib Beamaal movement, well-
equipped with spears, kris, short swords and several rifles, all of them
dressed in white cloaks and turbans, hid themselves behind the pepper
bushes near a trail ready to face the enemy. They were commanded by
a very young religious leader wearing a yellow cloak and turban.
The Dutch troop consisted of fifty carabines, sustained by a hill
cannon and commanded by Lieutenant van der Heijden, were marching toward
them. When these soldiers approached this hiding place, some shots were
fired to them by the band, which was then followed by their sudden ap-
pearance out of the bushes. They stepped forward dancingly toward the
enemy while reciting grumbingly some Koranic verses. The soldiers were
at once commanded to place themselves in a frontal formation ready for
combat. At an interval of forty steps they got the order to fire. These
simultaneous fire certainly brought about heavy casualties among the band.
Anyhow, the Beraitib Beamaal combatants did not care for the losses inflicted
on them. They moved ahead one step after the other in the similar manner
as before. This provided the Dutch with time to reload their carabines.
At a ten steps distance the soldiers discharged their fire-arms again. But
what was very strange for them, was that some of the fire-arms, including
the hill-cannon, did not fire. The pistol of van der Heijden got even stuck,
when he attempted to shoot down the Beratib leader. A duel could not
be avoided. With hysterical screams the band stormed into the enemy's
front line. Two soldiers, who were in charge of serving the cannon, got
a spear thrust and a stab. Van der Heijden was nearly stabbed down by
the band's leader, but the latter got a strike first. Both sides suffered heavy
losses. The fal of the charismatic leader, however, constitute then a heavy
shock among his adherents and altered entirely the situation of the battle.
All of them suddenly fled away to disappear in the jungle. i2

11 W.A. van Rees, op. cit., H, p. 285.

12 Ibid., p. 205-206.

171
 SOERI SOEROTO

IV
Since the sixteenth century the Banjarese embraced Islam and were
then assumed as faithful followers of this religion. It was adopted as the
state religion which had given them a strong cultural identification. In such
religious society religious sentiments could be easily raised, even for non-
religious aims as long as it could be related to its religious interests. In
the Banjar War these kind of sentiments had been successfully integrated
into matter which was originally socio-political in nature. Accordingly the
Banjar War was successfully transformed into a holy war in order to achieve
both secular and religious purposes. In such a case, the politico-religious
atmosphere strongly aroused the fighting spirit of the people.
The Batang Balangan affair is very indicative of this situation. Tu-
menggung Djalil, a district chief of this region, was dismissed by the
sultan. 13 He refused the dismissal on consideration that it was entirely
unjust. When action was to be taken against him, he felt to loose his
sense of security and decided to fight the authority. He stirred up his
people to take up arms. In a gathering held in a mosque, a religious
official, Panghulu Abdulgani, inflamed the people by stating that the Sultan
had been treating his subject very unjustly; he exploited them as he liked.
Beside this social aspect, Abdulgani added that throughout the country,
except in Benua Lima, their religious life was deteriorating. The teaching
of Islam was ignored, while the sultanate was not in a state to give her
protection. The sultan was not their leader to be obeyed and given their
allegiance.iA
The Muning affair, at the outbreak of 'the war, also contained
religious elements. A very pious, blind peasant of eighty years old, called
Aling, after having practiced a tapa (ascetism), claimed to receive a re-
velation to set up a new kingdom, which would bring forth prosperity and
justice. Kumbayau, his village, became the center of the movement and
got its new name of "Tambai Mekka", which meant "as holy as Mecca".16
The cooperation of the secular and the religious elites in the war
was the condition reflecting the social structure and status system of the
Banjarese society, which arranged both their social role. Below the ruling
family we find the religious group.1U Although only a small number of the
members of this group were incorporated in the bureaucracy, they were
very influential among the people, primarily in the rural areas. A large
part of the them lived among the villagers and possessed a social status
as rural elites. Beside those who occupied the teaching position, a large
number of them were actively engaged in commercial enterprises. This
occupation provided them with large wealth which increased largely their
13 The sultan, called Tamjidillah who was the last king of this kingdom, was
appointed by and in favor for the Dutch contrary to the people's wish.
His reign was far from being efficient.
U W A . van Rees, op. cit., I, p 34-35.
if- J.J. Meijer, op. cit., pp. 661-670; W.A. van Rees, op. cit., I, pp, 41-47, E,B,
Kielstra, op. cit., p. 141.
in Van der Ven, "Aanteekeningen omtrent het Rijk Bandjarmasin" (Notes Oli
the Banjarmasin kingdom), TGB, IV (1860), p. 116.

172
 THE BERATIB BEAMAAL M O V E M E N T

social prestige.17 Being assumed to possess higher knowledge, particularly

in religious matters, these religious elites, including the hajis,18 occupied
a very high social standing within the rural societies, that made the vil-
lagers fully rely on them. For the sake of their belief, the people, as
faithful moslems, were willing to carry out blindly the orders and accept
the leadership of these elites.
The sultan, as the highest member of the traditional secular elites,
nominally occupied also the highest religious position. But in fact his
religious function was practically entrusted to the religious elite appointed
in the bureaucracy, who worked on behalf of the king. The secular and
religious aspects of the society's life, each preserved by the secular and
religious leaders, could not be cut off from each other. The harmony and
the unity of the social order and the existence of the society as a collective
association were assumed to be guaranteed by both these leaders. Coopera-
tion and mutual aid between them were indeed required and unavoidable.
Beside the members of the secular elites such as Prince Antasari, Tumeng-
gung Djalil, Tumenggung Sulil, Surapati, Demang Lehman and still many
others, we will find Haji Buyassin, Haji Bador, Haji Abdullah, Panghulu
Abdulgani among the religious elites who took part actively in the struggle.
As the war was principally socio-political in nature, it is quite natural if
the secular elites occupied the prominent position in leading the combat.
But the successive defeats they had undertaken, which constituted
failure of their struggle, brought about then a heavy crisis among the
Banjarese. The leadership of the secular elites was heavily challenged.
They lost the people's support by ceasing to fight. But this crisis did
not end the war. On the contrary, the decline of the secular elites, leader-
ship was followed by the emergence of the religious elites on the scene
to take over the command.
The Beratib Beamaal movement is a movement in which the religious
elites played a determinant role. One of its chracteristics was its deep-
rooted belief in magico-mysticism, the conviction of possessing immunity
or invulnerability from the bullets of the Dutch military forces. They
obtained this mental attitude by performing certain religious ritual. In this
case the ritual consisted of a beratib or dhikir. The religious elites gathered
their adherents in a mosque in which they carried out the ritual. The
Koranic verses that they were going to recite consisted of twelve similar
phrases in Arabic, each had to be followed by a certain phrase in the
Banjarese language. In short the literal meaning of these phrases was the
request to obtain abundant subsistence and safety from danger. But what
they really wanted was, nonitheless, to obtain strength, especially invulnera-
bility38, to fight the infidels.

n Van der Ven, op. cit., p. 115.

i* In the nineteenth century according to the Dutch sources, there were about
thousand moslems from South Borneo who went on a pilgrimage to Mecca.
This was the highest number compared to the other areas in the Archipelago.
W.A. van Rees, op. cit., I, p. 32.
i» The single Arabic verse La'ilaha illaha'llah (There is no God save Allah I
is to be followed each by these phrases :

173
 SOERI SOEROTO

The members of the movement were so often immersed to their

devotion that the ritual sometimes lasted for several days. The reciting
was first calm, but the longer it lasted, because of their excitement, the
louder it became, and culminated in a kind of hysterical screams. 20 This
performance could transform the adherents in a state of trance. In such
a psychological condition, their enthusiasm were strongly stirred up, so
that they were ready to strike the enemy in an exeremely fanatic way
without caring for any risk. 21
In a group of bands which often could cover more than hundred
adherents, they would move around to ambush the enemy. Their extrar
ordinary blind courage and confidence seem obviously to be inspired by
the things. First, they were entirely convinced that having performed a
beratib beamaal, they were then invulnerable. Second, the presence of their
charismatic leader, who was essumed of possessing magical or supra-
natural power, would give them protection. Their conviction was often
exaggerated, so that they abandoned all precautionary measures in con-
fronting the enemy, like moving dancingly in front of the enemy, and facing
the bullets without seeking cover.
This movement appeared for the first time at Amuntei in October
1861. It was stirred by Panghulu Bukasin and Panghulu Abdulgani. There
were two main aims that were promised by these leaders to appeal people's

1. Oh Goal, please give abundant wealth, deliver me from danger, gra/it

me long life and strong faith.
2. from Mecca to Medina, the place of the prophet
3. from Mecca to Medina, the place of Fatima
4. the wise heart, oh, the wise, oh, Mohammed the prophet
5. the faithful heart, the dwelling place of God
6. Mohammed, the servant of God
7. Mohammed, the messenger of God
8. Mohammed, the character of God
9. Mohammed, the saint of God
10. Mohammed, the prophet of God
11. The appearance of the servant of God
12. —
(translation of the author) P.J. Veth, op. cit.| p. 200.
2t This kind of ritual was also performed in Achin. It was a ritual of the
Sammaniah mystical teaching (a tarrikah) from Medina emerging in the
first half of the eighteenth century. First the followers sat down on their
knees. Hence they stood upright and set the body in motion to left and
right successively, while reciting some Koranic verses, such as Alahoe eho
lahoe, sihi, hi.hi, until they were dropping wet. They could become strongly
excited and did silly things like blowing off the lamp.
This mystical teaching and practice were spread all over the Archipelago
and had been performed deviatingly from the original. See C. Snouch
Hurgronje, De Atjehers (The Achenese) (Batavia/Leiden : Landsdrukkerij,
E.J. de Brill, 1894), v. H, pp. 220-222; Encyclopaedie van Nederlandsch
Indie, op. cit., v. I l l , p. 684. The Padri movement on West Sumatra in the
first half of the nineteenth century, although religious in nature, seems nor
to have this kind of mystical ritual. Van der Lange, op. cit., I, H.
21 W.A. van Rees, op. cit., n , p. 186.

174
 THE BERATIB BEAMAAL MOVEMENT

participation and supports : (1) introducing better teaching of Islam, (2)

releasing the heavy burden imposed upon the people like compulsory
duty and head money.22 These kind of promises usually reflected the
reaction against the existence of a social crisis in a society, marked by
sufferings, calamity, tyranny, degeneration and corruption. Its response was
the great desire to change the grieve situation into a good one by organizing
a movement. The movement can be enforced by religious ideology, such
as a holy war against the infidels.23
There is no clear evidence of what kind of better teaching the
Beratib Beamaal movement was going to perform. There is no sufficient
indication how far the deterioration of the moral life had been accomplished.
It seems appropriate to hold the assumption that the religious rural elites
were entirely not satisfied with the present condition. At the outbreak of
the war their frustration had been put forward by calung attention to the
degenerating of Islam. Zi
The absence of sufficient evidence of the degeneration mentioned
before pushes us to look for another explanation. It seems to be probable
to consider that the demoralisation within the Royal family as well as the
existence of the Dutch as infidels were hurting their religious feeling.
The second promise indicates clearly its relation to the frustrating
social condition of the rural society. The Banjar War was supported by
the villagers as a means to wipe out the social frustration of the rural
society. But the war itself, in fact, constituted more grievances and the
failure to win the war to a certain extent reduced the people's expectation
to obtain the change.
As members of the rural society, the hajis could not avoid himself
from this social injury. Primarily as traders their occupation seems to be
more threatened by the presence of the Dutch colonial government which
had taken away the kingdom. Before the war had broken out, the Dutch
had already imposed a regulation that required all trading vessels moving
in or out of the hinterland to go via the port Of Banjarmasin to be taxed.
Besides, a plan to introduce a new system of taxation had akeady resulted
in feelings of fear and frustration among the people. 25
In such a frustrating social condition the villagers seem to have
no alternatives except relying closer on the religious elites. The secular
elites had disappointed them with all the failure they had undertaken.
as p.J. Veth, op cit., p. 199. When the war was still going on the Banjarmasin
Kingdom was abolished by the Dutch (June 11, 1860) and its territory was
incorporated into the colonial government's territories. Meanwhile the
traditional taxation system was still imposed.
23 Sartono Kartodirdjo, Pergerakan Social dalam Sedjarah Indonesia (Social
movement in Indonesian History) (Gadjah Mada University), p. 16-.
2 « Among the Royal families there were political intrigues, sometimes followed
by secret murder. Sultan Tamjidilah was known as a non-faithful moslem;
he liked to live with the Dutch in Banjarmasin instead Martapura as the
Royal capital, for getting protection and was fond of liquor.
25 j . Mallinckrodt, The Adatrecht van Borneo (The customary-law of Borneo)
(Leiden : Dubbeldeman, 1928), IL, p. 154.

175
 SOERI SOEROTO

The psychological and social development had put the religious elites in
a state to bring in a new life in the struggle. With these promises they
had given new hopes to the people in certain rural areas to achieve their
longings for social improvement. Accordingly they enthusiastically welcomed
the inducement of these rural religious elites to take part in the beratib
beamaal.
This rural agrarian society seems to maintain its primitive mentality,
which emphasized the significance of divination and magic. Instruments,
weapons, tools or process employed although indispensable, are considered
to play but a subordinate part. It is in accordance with this conviction
that they acted to face the Dutch.28 First these religious elites convinced
their adherents that by eating the meat of an albino taken from Sihong,
they would be invulnerable and easily to obtain high position in the
bureaucracy. They also declared themselves of having magical power to
alter palm-leaves into crocodiles which would swallow all the whites who
were found on the rivers. Hence they also introduced the beratib as being
considered to be the shortest way instead of a tapa to obtain that invul-
nerability or a magical power.27
Based on all these facts this movement seems to emerge initially
within the rural societies as an archaic and magico-mystical means merely
to relieve their social grievances. It did not contain any political objectives.
This indicates that they did not have the idea yet to build up a poütical
power and a political organization. What they really wanted seems to be
limited to getting away from their grievances by driving out the infidels.
But the secular eûtes likely saw in this rural upheavals a good
opportunity for continuing their poütical struggle. The combative nature
of the movement provided them with a means to fight the Dutch. Accor-
dingly they issued on behalf of the Panembahan an order to the village-
chiefs to encourage the Beratib Beamaal movement. They emphasized that
the main goal of this movement was to obtain invulnerabitity to fight the
infidels, to defend their reügion from infidels' intrusion, as well as to release
the country from foreign domination and last but not least to restore the
kingdom.2S In taking this way the secular elites succeeded to give the
Beratib Beamal movement its poütical goal, which was previously still
vague or absent, so that it then became a part and an extension of their
own political struggle.

20. Levy-Bhruhl, Primitive Mentality (transi, by Lilian A. Clara, Boston :

Beacon Press, 1966), p. 341-342.
2T p . J. Veth, op. cit., p. 199.
2& The evidence indicates that the order, written by someone on behalf of the
Panembahan (a title of a traditional ruler) waa found on one of the
adherents of the movement who died in a fight, on 22 nd of March 1862.
Another evidence indicating the secular elites' participation in the movement
was the Beratib Beamal in Wasa-Wa3a. The followers of Prince Aminullah
were orderd to join it. W. A. van Rees, op. cit., p. 285.

176
 THE BERATIB BEAMAAL MOVEMENT
* YflL /32 B AflA«iAl
V
The Beratib Beamaal movement can be thought of as a religio-social
movement, which emerged with the breaking down of the Banjarese resis-
tance under the secular eûtes. Originally it emerged out of the social
grievances of the rural societies intensified by the war itself. These social
grievances were brought about by several factors such as the declining and
corruptive sultanate, the failure of the resistance under the secular elites'
leadership to fight the infidels and the presence of the colonial power with
its poUcy which had caused disadvantages to the native traders as weU as
constituted feelings of fear and frustration among the people.
The failure of the struggle under the secular leaders brought about
a crisis of leadership among the Banjarese. Within this vacuum of leader-
ship the reügious elites emerged on the scene. They organized a religio-
social movement, called the Beratib Beamaal movement, as a means to
remove their social grievances by applying magico-mystical ritual in con-
formity with the primitive mentality maintained by these agrarian societies.
Beratib was assumed to be the shortest way to obtain magical power. Sin-
cerely convinced of the magical virtue, they became very aggressive and
miütant. But this archaic way of fighting did not help them to accomplish
their aim.
The secular eûtes encouraged the movement by emphasizing the
significance of the holy war against the intruding infidels. To meet theii
own interests they directed the movement toward the achieving of a po-
litical goal, namely the release of the country from foreign domination
and the restoration of the abolished kingdom.
In its historical context the Beratib Beamaal movement can be seen
as a continuation of the Banjarese struggle against the poütical expansion
of the Dutch colonial power. It is, however, an attempt by the rural
societies under the leaderhip of the rural reügious eûtes in order to get
rid of their social grievances by driving out the Dutch, whose political
existence had played as additional factors to the Banjarese own internal
ones in creating poütical and social changes within their society.

177
 SOME REMAKS ON THE HARBOUR CITY OF
JAPARA IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY *
F.A. SUTJIPTO
GADJAH MADA UNIVERSITY

I
The coastal town Japara is supposed to have been in existence since
earlier periods. During the rule of the Majapahit Kingdom, Tuban and
Ganggu were the most important sea-ports. According to the Chinese
chronicles of the Yuan period three naval commanders were sent with
armed forces with the task to punish King "Ka-ta-na-ka-la'' (Javanese :
Kertanegara) : they anchored at those seaports.1
The mentioning of the three harbour cities as being important at
the time seems not to be striking, since East-Java was the site of the
supreme power of Majapahit. Several coastal towns scattered along the
north-coast of Java had good opportunities to flourish. Their strategic
location on the commercial sea-route between Moluccas-Malacca afforded
them much support to develop.
During the last period of Majapahit, however, the previously small
fishing town Japara among the other towns became more and more
prominent. At the same time the to the Islam converted coastal regents
along the northcoast of Java became bolder and bolder in ignoring the
faded interior Hinduistic power. It was in the turn of the fifteenth century
that a new Islamic power reached its maturity to proclaim itself as in-
dependent kingdom. In connection with the rise of this new supremacy,
which had Demak as its royal seat, Japara with its good potency as sea-
port got a new atmosphere in striving its peak. The ruler of Demak paid
great attention to sea-trade and the harbour of Japara consequenly developed
to a main seaport.
In the latter half of the sixteenth century, after several court in-
trigues, the Demak dinasty crumbled. The central power was then to be
moved to the hinterland, first to Pajang and afterwards to Mataram. Pri-
marily in the beginning of the Moslem Mataram period, in the latter quarter
of the sixteenth- and in the seventeenth century, the harbour city of Japara
remained to be the main sea-port of the kingdom. Javanese chronicles
and Dutch documents provide a great deal of data informing the role of
Japara's sea-port in commercial as weü as in miütary activities.2 It is quite

* Paper presented at the Vth IAHA Conference, Manila, 1971.

i See W.P. Groeneveldt, Historical Note on Indonesia & Malaya, Compiled
from Chinese Sources. Djakarta, 1969, pp. 21 - 22.
2 Concerning the role of Japara sea-port in military activities see among
others in the Javanese chronicle Babad Tanah Djawi (History of Java) ;
seo J.J. Meinsma, ed., Babad Tanah Djawi (in prose), vol. L 1903,
pp. 292-294; H.J. de Graaf, "De Opkomst van Raden Troenodjojo" (The
Rise of Raden Trunajaya), Djawa, XX (1940). p. 74.

178
 SOME REMARKS ON THE HARBOUR OF JAPARA

obvious that the king's officials of Japara, like the other cities of the north-
coast of Java, rendered much support in financial income to the royal
treasury.
The bureaucratic relations between coastal chiefs and the court was
feudalistic in character. The present account attempts to treat in more
detail about it, answering several questions like : how much potential power
Japara city had in order to develop into a prominent sea-port at the time;
in what place Japara was located in the Mataram territorial system; what
about Japara's functionaries and how to appoint and to dismiss them;
what were their principal duties and to what extent they might have in
exercising their duties.

The well situated harbour city of Japara, as had been pointed out
by Rach in his on the spot drawing,s and the prosperous interior rich in
foodstuffs and other forests product were among other factors why the
king adopted it as the main royal sea-port. Rice and valuable kinds of
wood were abundantly found in the Mancanegara — as well as in the
Negara Agung4 regions. Records of journeys of several Dutch ambassadors
to the court of Mataram in the course of the first half of the seventeenth
century such as Dr. De Haen (1622 and 1623), 5 Pieter Franssen
(1630)° and Ryckloff V. van Goens (1648-1653),7 gave a good colourful
description about population, villages, mountains, roads, rivers and rice-

Japara and other North-Java coastal cities as commercial sea-ports are

clearly pointed out in the Dutch records.
Pour our present account see Daghregister gehouden int Casteel Batavia
vant passerende daer ter plaetse als over geheel Nederlandt India (Daily
Record kept at Batavia Castle of Happenings at the Place and throughout
the Netherlands East Indies). Batavia/the Hague, 1624, 1625, 1670; for the
next notes Daghregister for short.
i Reproduction of Rach's drawing depicting seventeenth century Japara sea-
port see H.J. de Graaf, Geschiedenis van Indonesië. (History of Indonesia)
('& Gravenhage), Bandung, 1949 p. 353.
i See page 3 of this paper.
3 About the journey's records of Dr. de Haer see J.K.J, de Jonge ed., De
Opkomst van het" Nederlandsch gezag in Oost-Indië De Opkomst for short
(The Rise of Dutch Authority in the East Indies). Amsterdam/The Hague
rV (1869), p. 284 ff. Also in Ibid., V (1870) p. 30 ff.
o W. Fruin-Mees, "Pieter Franssen's journaal van zijn reis naar Mataram in
1630 en eenige wegen naar de hofplaats" (Pieter Franssen's Journal to
Mataram in 1630 and Some Roads to the Court Seat), TBG, LXVI (1926),
pp. 395 - 422.
T See Ryckloff Volckertsz van Goens, "Reijsbeschrijving van den weg uijt
Semarangh nae de konincklijke hoofdplaets Mataram, mitsgaders de zeeden,
gewoonten ende regering van de Sousounan, groot machtigste koningk van
't eijlant Java" (Itinerary of the Way from Semarang to the Royal Capital
Mataram, as well as the Morals, Customs, and Government of the Susuhun^n,
Mighty King of the Island of J a v a ) , BKI, TV (1856), pp. 307-350.

179
 F. A. SOETJIPTO

fields in those areas. They often reported along 'their way large cultivated
lands producing a great quantity of rice. 8 Teak forests were mainly to be
found along the mountainous areas extending from Central-Java eastwards.
The Dutch regarded the teak of Japara as being of good quality, that it
became an invaluable export commodity. Besides rice and teak and other
kinds of wood, other food-stuffs were also exported from Japara's harbour,
namely salt, dried and salted fish, onions, garlic, ° brown —, white —, and
black sugar10 as well as other forest product such as honey and drugs. n
Daghregisters give detailed records of the proas laden with food-
stuffs from Japara arriving at Batavia's port. 12

III
During the Moslem Mataram period, probably since the rule of the
Demak dinasty,13 the royal realm had been divided into, the Kutagara
(Royal City State) headed by one or two Tumenggungs14 of Mataram;
the Negara Agung 15 (literally means the 'Greater Area', i.e. an area im-
mediately surrounding the kraton (court) area), divided into eight territories,
each headed by a Wedana;1 ö the Mancanegara (areas lying outside Negara
Agung, not including coastal areas), divided into the western (kilen) and
the eastern (wetan) half, consisting further of small areas, each ruled by
a Tumenggung or Ngabehi;17 the Pasiskan (coastal areas), also divided
into western (kilen) and the eastern (wetan) half, each ruled by a Wedana
Bupati Pasisir (coastal governor) with a title Tumenggung.

s Rice fields areas reported by ambassadors along their way are among others :
Pakis, Suba, Juma Kedu, Pari (De Opkomst, TV (1869), pp. 294; ibid., V
(1870), p. 31); in the surrounding of Demak (ibid., p. 43; Sesanga, Pulu
Watu) W. Fruin-Mees, op. cit., pp. 409 - 411.
« See M.A.P. Meilink-Roelofsz, Asian Trade and European Influence, in the
Indonesian Archipelago Between 1500 and about 1630. The Hague, 1962,
p. 286.
io Daghregister, 1670, pp. 78, 103.
i l M.A.P. Meilink-Roelofsz, op cit. p. 287.
is For examples see Daghregister, 1670, p. 78; p. 52; 1625, p. 131, 146, 188.
i!' The eighteenth century Serat pustaka raja puwara gives a detail description
about royal realm division since Demak up to Mataram period. This Ja-
vanese scripture is contained in J. Brandes, ed., "Serat pustaka radja
puwara" (The Book of Kings), appendix two of his writing "Register op
de proza omzetting van de Babad Tanah Djawi (uitgave van 1874)" Index
to the Prose Version of the Babad Tanah Jawi (1874 Edition), VBG, LI
(3900), p. 140 ff.
3 4 Tumenggung is a title of high Javanese official.
ii> Negara Agung formally consists of four regions. According to the aforemen-
tioned Serat pustaka raja puwara Sultan Agung, the third king of Moslem
Mataram (1613-1645), had divided the current four regions into eight
divisions; see J. Brandes, ed., op. cit., pp. 151, 152.
3,6 Wedana literally means 'face' or 'head'; in the Javanese bureucracy he
functioned as minister of crown under the Patih (vizier).
17 Rouffaer is of the opinion, t h a t the word Nga.behi has a meaning of 'head
over all', see O.P. Rouffaer, "Vorstenlanden" (The Principalities), Adatrecht-

180
 SOME REMARKS ON THE HARBOUR OF JAPARA

Each half of tlatah pasisiran (coastal areas) consisted of smaller

regions, headed respectively by a Bupati.18 The Wedana Bupati functioned
as coordinator of those Bupatis. The Pasisiran KUen and the Pasisiran
Wetan were bordered one another by the Tedunan river which flows between
Demak and Japara into the sea. It is quite obvious that the harbour city
of Japara, which was located in the eastern half of that area, belonged to
the tlataii Pasisiran Wetan.
As has been mentioned, the Wedana Bupati Pasisir was charged
with coordinating the Bupatis under his jurisdiction. In the reign of Sultan
Agung and his successor, Amangkurat I, Japara like Tegal for the western
coastal area had been chosen to be the seat of Wedana Bupati Pasisir We-
tan. The Wedana Bupati Japara, therefore, had the duty of supervising
and coordinating the Bupatis of the eastern coastal regions. This kind of
bureaucratic pattern was also operative in the Mancanegara regions.19
Dutch documents informed us, that in 1677 Mas Tuampel was appointed
Wedana Bupati Mancanegara with Jipang as the seat of government.20
Later this function was occupied by Tumenggung Surawijaya.21 Surawijaya
was really supervisor of the Bupaûs of several regions in East-Java.22
As other royal high ranking officials the coastal lords were ap-
pointed by the King himself through 'royal decree' (piagem). In this con-
nection the opinion of the court council consisting of well experienced
royal members might have influenced the king's view. In some respect,
however, the King himself had the full right to 'take a final decision. Tour
of duty among the coastal lords took place frequently.
As regards our Japara coastal chief, a more detailed account may
be worthwhile. The Dutch sources said, that about 1647 Tumenggung
Wirasetya succeeded the former chief Martanata and became governor of
Japara. 23 In 1653 Wirasetya was then removed to another position and
replaced by his successor 'Astracapa' (Astrakapa or AStracepaka ?). After
having been an authority in Kandal for some years, however, Wirasetya
was restored as governor of Japara. 24 Later he was given by the King
a function at court and succeeded by Reksamenggala, who, in turn, after
having functioned as governor for short moment, was removed and succeeded
by Wiradikara.2S Wiradikara fell then into the King's disfavor and was
replaced by Wangsadipa in 1667. Afterwards, however, Wiradikara was

bundel (Volume on Adat Law), (1931), pp. 291-292.

i*> Bupati is regent, lord or ruler of a region under juridiction (kabupaten),
i» List of Mancanegara regions is found in Serat pustaka raja puwara, see
J. Brandes, ed., op. cit., pp. 164 -168 and 181 - 182.
20 J.K.J. De Jonge, De Opkomst, VH (1873), pp. 129, 307.
2i See B. Schrieke, Indonesian Sociological Studies, part two, 's Gravenhage,
1959, p. 161.
22 Ci. ibid,
us Daghregister, 1647-1648, pp. 31, 107; cf. B. Schrieke, op. cit., D. 374 n. 487
24 B. Schrieke, op. cit., p. 198.
25 Ibid., p . 2 0 1 .

181
 F. A. SOETJIPTO

restored to his former post at Japara in 1669. 20 In 1670 Wiradikara, who

in 1676 had to render his post to his successor Wangsadipa.
About governor Wangsadipa Corpus Diplomaticum Neerlando
lndicum relates, that when on December 29, 1676 Cornells Speelman left
Batavia for Japara, he was met there by the governor, named Kjahi Ngabehi
Wangsadipa. It was said that he acted as the Sunan's delegate to arrange
a contract with the Dutch.27 By mentioning some facts of Japara func-
tionaries it becomes apparent, that promotions and removals among the
local chiefs often took place.

-aW liziasl
rv
uibtooo büß
The principal duties of the coastal chiefs were among others : (a)
to exercise local civil administration, (b) to arrange export and import
trade via its harbour, (c) to levy port custom duties and to collect other
coastal revenues, a part of which was to be rendered to the court treasury,
(d) sometines to act as the Sunan's representatives in negotiations with
foreign authorities and entrusted to supervise subdued areas outside Java,
(e) to recruit coastal army and to provide contingents of armed men and
proas during war-time.
Civil administration of the coastal cities followed the current feudal
pattern. The Wedana Bupati Japara, as other coastal chiefs, had a staff
of civil servants, having hierarchically respective rights and duties wearing
a fixed title. Japara proper was headed by a 'stadhouder' under the title
of Kiahi Lurah. In his letter to the Dutch Government at Batavia, dated
May, 1670, the governor of Japara Tumenggung Wiratmaka mentioned
his two officials named 'Keey Loera Marmagatty' and 'Keey Loera Ima
Raxa' (Kiahi Lurah Marmagati and Kiahi Lurah Imareksa), who brought
the letter themselves to Batavia.28
The title Kiahi Lurah was not only worn by officials governing a
town's administration, but also by those who led a certain bureau. Both
Kiahi Lurahs might be officials in the diplomatic service. This title was
also commonly used in the other coastal cities. Pieter Franssen's journal
said, that at his arrival in the harbour of Semarang on May 16, 1631
he was met by Kiahi Lurah Yuda, who introduced him to Tumenggung
Warganaya. He was then travelling to the court of Mataram accompanied
by this Tumenggung.20 Kiahi Lurah Yuda was certainly stadholder of
Semarang proper, while Tumenggung Warganaya was a Bupati of the Se-
marang coastal region. It was also indicated in Dr. De Haen's record,
that in 1622 Pemalang coastal town was under jurisdiction of prince

26 Ibid., p. 202.
2T See "Corpus Diplomaticum Neerlando lndicum", p a r t III, in BKI, XCT
(1934), p. 40.
28 Daghregister, 1670, pp-69.
w W. Fruin-Mees, "Pieter Franssen's Journal", pp. 407-408.

182
 SOME REMARKS ON THE HARBOUR OF JAPARA

Pangeran Purbaya, who appointed a Kiahi Lurah to rule the area as

Stadholder.30
Bureaux of various administrative activities were installed and
mostly located in the complex of the Dalem (House) of Wedana Bupati.
This central Bureau had naturally branch-offices in various smaller regions
under their jurisdiction, which were managed by lesser ranking officials.
We have, unfortunately, no evidence mentioning in detail the names of the
officials occupying those offices. The aforementioned Serat Pustaka Raja
Puwara merely mentioned a certain official called the Pecat-tanda who's
duty was "to supervise all port's custom offices and held authority of all
mouths of rivers.''31
Concerning the duty of the Wedana Bupati of Japara to arrange
export and import trade it would be worthwhile to deal something with
the procedures concerned. As previously stated, during the period of Sultan
Agung and at least the first decade of Amangkurat the First's reign rice
export became royal monopoly. Japara, according to Dutch documents,
was once the King's rice 'treasury and every one must obtain his com-
modities there. No rice may be sold at other places.32
This evidence points out clearly that most of the hinterland supplies
of rice which will be exported had to be transported to Japara. Under
Sultan Agung the Tumenggungs of Kendal and Tegal were charged with
collection of rice from the royal territories. From the producing areas rice
was transported by two wheeled carts and drawn by 6 or 8 buffalos to
the port of Japara. 33 It sometimes took a long time to travel from the
producing areas to the port. In several places, therefore, rest-houses were
built where fresh buffalos could be obtained. Officers accompanying the
convoys usually rode on horseback. It is clear, that an excellent coordination
among the local chiefs was an important factor in smoothing transportation.
Besides land traffic rivers were also of great importance for the
conveyance of product and merchandise from the interior to the coast. It
might be assumed that the Tedunan and Serang river were once important
waterways along which rice, teak and other commodities were tranported
from the hinterland to the Japara sea-port. Nevertheless, the conveyance
of rice from the Mancanegara Kilen producing areas was mostly done along
the landroute.
The collected rice and other products were then kept in store-houses
erected along the sea-shore to be exported later on. The Wedana Bupati
Japara had the responsibility to run and manage the rice export. He was
fully assisted by the Syahbandar (harbour-master) of Japara in performing
his duty. Since the export of rice was one of the royal monopolies, the
Wedana Bupati had to do his task perfectly in order not to loose the
so B. Schrieke, op. cit., vol II, p. 191.
si See Serat pustaka raja puwara, in J. Brandes, op. cit., p. 147. Besides in
this scripture the list of functionaries in the Mataram Kingdom with
explanation of their duties is also to be found in Serat Wadu Aji (Book of
the King's Officials), see J. Brandes, ed., op. cit., appendix IV.
32 Daghregister, 1656-1657, p. 140.
33 J.K.J. de Jonge, ed., De Opkomst, IV (1869), p. 299.

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King's favour. In connection with the import trade the Wedana Bupati had
the duty of arranging what kinds of merchandise should be imported, which
would meet the needs and taste of the consumers.
The port custom revenues produced respectable income to the
coastal administration. For that reason the Pabeyan (custom office) was
installed and placed under the direct control of the Syahbandar. Part of this
income after having been reduced for financing administrative needs had
to be transmitted to the royal treasury. Taxes of fishing, salt making,
markets etc. formed other invaluble revenues to the coastal cities. The
Wedana Bupati Japara and the other coastal Bupatis were expected to
render this income regularly to the court. Court officials might be sent
reminding the coastal chiefs, who forsook this duty. Dutch documents said,
that in 1664 Sunan Amangkurat I had ordered a high official of the
Kutagara named Nitinegara to visit several harbour cities from Gresik to
Japara with the task of urging the coastal chiefs to collect custom reve-
nues, taxes and other coastal revenues and trasmit them to the court of
Mataram.34 It will not be exaggerating to say, that the Wedana Bupati
Japara and other coastal Bupatis (Bupati pasisiran) offered indispensable
support to the kingdom.
As stated above, the Wedana Bupati Japara was once the King's
delegate 'to arrange contracts with the Dutch. This fact demonstrated the
great reliance of the ruler to the coastal chief. The contract made between
the ruler of Mataram and the Dutch in the course of the seventeenth
century clearly shows the role of the Wedana Bupati Japara in the diplo-
matic field. It does not mean, however, that he could do this freely. The
contract arranged by the Wedana Bupati should have the approval of the
King. Daghregister reported, 'that in 1631 the governor Leksamana of Japara
was called to the court and then arrested under the suspection that he
had on his own account demonstrated an unfriendly attitude towards the
ruler of Bantam. 35
It was also indicated, that the Sunan had dismissed the governor
of Japara Tumenggung Wiradikara, because without the King's approval
the latter opened negotiations with the Dutch and promised to offer them
some beneficial facilities.36 His function was then rendered to his successor
Tumenggung Wiratmaka. This evidence may lead us to draw a conclusion,
that the diplomatic role of the Wedana Bupati Japara was strongly con-
trolled by the central government.
Several coastal chiefs were also entrusted to supervise some tri-
butary regions outside Java. The Wedana Bupati Japara was once entrusted

34 B. Schrieke, op. cit., II, p. 197; Daghregister, 1664, p. 520.

36 Daghregister, 1631 (27 July); cf. W. Fruin-Mees, "Waarom Batavia en
Mataram van 1629-1646 geen vrede hebben gesloten" (Why no Peace was
Concluded between Batavia and Mataram from 1629-1646), TBG, LXVT
(1926), p. 168 n. 18.
36 w. Fruin-Mees, ibid.

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IL
 SOME REMARKS ON THE HARBOUR OF JAPARA

to be the supervisor for Jambi, the coastal chief Demak for Palembang
and the chief of Semarang for Sukadana (in Kalimantan). Contact with
the Dutch at Batavia was the task of Tumenggung of Pati, but once it
was entrusted to the Tumenggung Japara :!7 The frequent mutations
among 'the coastal chiefs and the unstable function they have sometimes
led to competitions among them to gain the King's favour.
The next duty of the Wedana Bupati Japara was that of recruiting
coastal armed forces and providing ships during war-time. The function
of the Japara sea-port as military base was clearly indicated in historical
sources. Even during the Demak supremacy Japara played an important
role as being the royal naval base. 3S The Babad Tanah Jawi relates, that
Sunan Amangkurat II ordered the Mancanegara people to march to battle
under commander Raden Panji Karsula in order to defeat the Macassarese
Kraeng Galesung troops which settled in East-Java. The failure of this first
expedition forced the Sunan to summon the Pasisiran subjects led by Pra-
wirataruna (Dutch records called him Wiratuna) to launch a second attack.
The two expeditions are all said to be arranged in and started from the
Japara sea-port. 89 The duty of supplying contingents of armed troops in
the frequent expeditions might have sacrificed the welfare of the population.
The going away of men from home to wars might cause the ripening crop
of rice uncut and unharvested. The coastal products suffered as a result
of being neglected.
Besides recruiting armed men the Wedana Bupati Japara had the
obligation of providing proas. In 1624, as Dutch sources said, the King
of Mataram requested for 2000 proas of various types from coastal regions
to attack Batavia, Bantam and Surabaya.40 While in 1631 the King had
given instructions to coastal people to provide him with proas. It was said
further, that in 1647 all proas along the northern coast should be assembled
in Japara, since a general inspection would be held. 41
Based on all these evidences it could be assumed, that the Wedana
Bupati of Japara during the rule of Moslem Mataram in the course of
the seventeenth century had a heavy task, which should be well fulfilled
in order not to fall in the King's disfavor.

37 B. Schrieke, op. cit. Il, p. 198.

38 see The Suma Oriental of Tomé Pires and The Book of Francisco Rodngues,
vol. I, issued by the Hakluyt Society, 1944, p. 151.
3» H.J. de Graaf, "De Opkomst van Raden Troenodjojo" Djawa. XX (1940),
p. 74; J.J. Meinsma, ed., op. cit. pp. 292-299.
40 Daghregister, 1624 -1629, pp. 35, 39.
4i Ibid., 1647-1648, p. 116.
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