How trouble came to paradise in colonial Java

How trouble came to paradise in colonial Java

Bruce Emond, The Jakarta Post, Jakarta

-------------------------------------------------
The Thugs, the Curtain Thief and the Sugar Lord: Power,
Politics and Culture in Colonial Java
Onghokham, Metafor Publishing, 2003
xiv + 338 pp
Rp 135,000
-------------------------------------------------

It takes skill to be able to dig beyond the dry facts of history
and bring to life a distant time and place for latter
generations.

A great historian is not necessarily an engaging writer, often
tripping himself up by studiously conveying historical detail
without furnishing it with the deft penmanship or attention to
the human side of history to keep the interest of readers.

In tackling the intricate nature of colonialism in Java from
the 19th century to Indonesia's independence, Onghokham's
collection of essays provides a richly textured exploration of
the period. Insightful without being pedantic, learned but not
overbearing, the book is full of humorous anecdotes while never
shirking the factual responsibility of the historian.

The author is gifted a colorful cast of characters in
examining the uneasy relationship between the local Javanese
pryayi (local regional administrators) and their Dutch colonial
overlords, the latter -- frequently left bothered and bewildered
by the activities of the local populace -- dependent on the
former to take care of business.

In refuting the glorified colonial image of a backward native
population contentedly tending their fields while the "betters"
kept a watch over them, Onghokham reveals cultural miscues,
missteps and increasing discord in 19th century Java. By the time
the Dutch administration realized there was trouble in paradise,
with Queen Wilhelmina declaring the Netherlands' "debt of honor"
to the Javanese in 1905, it was already too late.

The title of the first, arguably most interesting essay, The
Inscrutable and the Paranoid, perfectly conveys the divide
between the two groups. Onghokham clearly relishes this tale that
pitted the Dutch against what they considered the uppity Javanese
regent of Madiun, Brotodiningrat.

Not one to play nice with the Europeans, the supremely self-
confident Brotodiningrat wanted things his way. He chafed when
one of the Dutch residents dismissed the regents as nothing more
than spies, believing that he and his peers were actually in
control.

Brotodiningrat set about stirring things up when a new
resident not to his liking arrived in Madiun in the 1890s. Their
relationship descended into oneupmanship, power plays and open
hostility (when admonished that his letters were not respectful
enough, Brotodiningrat retorted, "[It's] because I'm no old
woman"), reaching its nadir with the theft of a curtain from the
resident's home in 1899.

It was no ordinary curtain, mind you: "It had covered the
window by which the resident sat, often in pajamas for his
coffee, and the theft of the curtain, which infringed on the
privacy and affronted the dignity of the highest official in the
area, seemed clearly to be a demonstration against European
rule," Onghokham writes.

Although the theft was initially blamed on a petty thief, the
incensed resident suspected Brotodiningrat, and his campaign
against him led to the regent being dispatched to West Sumatra.

Even then, Brotodiningrat refused to toe the line, sending
appeals to the Queen and using the developing arena of the media
to plead his cause. He was eventually allowed to return to
Yogyakarta on Java, but he was to be a thorn in the side of the
colonists for the rest of his life.

The Brotodiningrat affair, and the earlier revolt against
payment of taxes in Patik, also part of Madiun regency, showed
the tenuous hold on power of the Dutch, with the forces of change
moving inexorably -- although not to be realized for another half
century -- toward independence.

There are also essays on the use of jago (thugs) for the
regents' own devices, the rise of the particularly Indonesian
type of Chinese involvement in capitalism (through the story of
the sugar lord of the title) and economic development.

Onghokham argues persuasively against the usual statement of
350 years of Dutch colonialism, noting resistance in Aceh and
Bali and that the East Indies were only one in 1910. In his
opinion, colonialism only began in Java in 1830.

A great gourmet and gourmand, Onghokham also includes an essay
on tempeh's contribution to building the nation as a readily
available source of protein when animal sources had been
exhausted, and well as one on rijstafel, the buffet of dishes
which the Dutch gorged on as part of their colonial tour of duty
(Onghokham notes how the Javanese looked down at the Dutch choice
of fried bananas as a buffet mainstay, considering it a lowly
fruit because it was available all year round).

Individually, each essay is thought-provoking and interesting,
although the reader will come across the problem of repetition in
information, probably due to the essays being written at
different times (the definition of the cultivation system is
repeated at least three times in different essays, for example).
In at least two essays, there are also the clumsy transitions "In
this paper ..."

The most enduring impression, however, is the contemporary
parallels -- the use of thugs by powerholders to get their way,
the populace's belief in charismatic leadership, officials
carefully sizing up their options for their own personal
benefits. History repeats itself indeed.