Tanah Berkat.....................part two

Tanah Berkat (Blessed Land): The Source of the Local in the
Banda Islands, Central Maluku

by: Phillip Winn

The Blessed Land

The small archipelago of the Banda Islands is envisaged by its local inhabitants as a unified landscape in a sense that exceeds the administrative standing of the island group as a kecamatan or sub-regency. The islands are often referred to collectively as tanah Banda, ‘the land of Banda’, an expression that simultaneously marks the Bandas as a distinct locale and emphasises the earth that physically constitutes the islands. Tanah Banda was popularly understood as possessing a singular significance, that of being a ‘blessed land’ or tanah berkat. The source of this special status was envisaged in terms of the islands having played an important historical role in significant religious events.

An example of this perspective appears in a document dated 1922. Purportedly the transcription of an ancient origin narrative obtained in the settlement of Lonthoir on Banda Besar Island, it begins with Noah and the flooding of the Earth:

At the end of the flood the lands all rose above the water, in the West, in the South and in the East. The land Andare in the East, that is Banda, was raised first, after that Tidore and Ternate, and Java and Bali, followed by the other lands. (Van Ronkel 1945: 124)

A similar account, also attributed to Lonthoir but dated 1924, contains additional details. 4 Noah’s craft is described running aground on Mount Ararak, after which he releases a dove in order to ascertain whether the flood has truly ended. The dove journeys to another mountain where it alights on a pomegranate tree and pecks off the terminal sprout, carrying it to the ark. Convinced, Noah releases animals back into the world. The dove, for its part, is depicted as returning to the pomegranate tree, which the text then reveals as growing on the peak of Mount Lewerang—a still-active volcano in the Banda Group.

In the late 1990s, this volcano-island was generally known by the more ubiquitous title Gunung Api (literally, ‘volcano’). 5 The peak, and the Banda Islands as a whole, were no longer given such a prominent part in tales of the flood, but a motif of religious significance continued. The islands’ special status was attributed widely to the actions of several male siblings in the archaic past (jaman dulu), who journeyed from the islands seeking religion. They are said to have returned with Islam, obtained from its source in Mecca. Both the historical texts cited previously provide descriptions of the siblings’ journey that closely parallel contemporary accounts. 6 Crucially, among local Muslims (who formed the bulk of the population) there is a common assertion that the Bandas were in fact the first location in Indonesia to receive Islam. The rest of the archipelago—and in some local accounts, the rest of the non-Arab world-encountered Islam after this.

Such narratives clearly evoke powerful claims for the islands: the first dry land after the flood, the first place visited by Noah’s dove, the first Indonesian location to receive Islam. It is notable too that the repetitive theme, in addition to being religious, involves an assertion of precedence. This cultural motif has been highlighted throughout Austronesian populations, often associated with claims to ritual authority or other status (Fox 1995). In this case, there is a vision of peculiar potency attached to the islands in a physical sense—to the very land or earth itself.

The tiny uninhabited outlier of the Banda Group is called Suanggi Island, a title that is described as marking it as the boundary of tanah Banda. The suanggi-a malevolent witch-figure-is a common image throughout Maluku; in the Bandas its range of powers are said to include invisibility and the ability to fly. Suanggi Islands name is said to stem from the fact that any flying suanggi who passes the island would be robbed of its powers as a result of crossing into the Banda Groups zone of influence, plummeting to earth on the island or into the sea. 7 Similarly, soil or sand from the Bandas was frequently incorporated into amulets by Banda residents that were designed to provide safety against the influence of suanggi (and all evil intent) while one was travelling outside the islands. Many residents even suggested that the mere fact of their personal association with the Bandas could be sufficient to ward off the machinations of
suanggi encountered elsewhere.

Other more tangible evidence of the blessed nature of tanah Banda existed in the form of sites known as keramat that dot the landscape of the islands. Keramat were viewed as ancient locations associated with the journeying male siblings and other early autochtonous figures in the islands. Sometimes the sites are described as tempat sakti, i.e. ‘places which are sakti’, a term generally translated into English as ‘sacred’ or ‘supernaturally powerful’ (Grimes 1996). They may also be referred to as tempat suci, ‘holy places’. Suci generally refers to matters more specifically religious, much as the term ‘holy’ does in English—partaking of God/godliness.

These sites then are regarded as both powerful and holy, a significance connected directly to the early Muslim founder-figures with which they are associated. Most are viewed as graves and have this appearance (with single or double markers, sometimes of decoratively carved coral-stone blocks); others comprise enduring physical features such as springs, large boulders or caves associated with specific activities of these individuals in the distant past. Many of the sites are linked to placenames, establishing a close connection between the landscape and local origin narratives. The Banda keramat form a continuous mnemonic suggestion to island residents of a dense inscribing of hidden significances in the land, particularly of important historical events and religious figures, and of their coexistence in the Bandas with these figures who continue to exist in spirit form (see Winn 2000). The figures themselves (which include, but are not limited to, the journeying siblings) are often referred to collectively as datu-datu.

In standard Indonesian, the term datuk can be translated as ancestor or forebear, but the expression has cognates in local languages across Indonesia, Malaysia, Brunei and the Philippines that also form titles of respect or recognition linked to Islamic religious scholars, shamans and/or high-ranking officials attached to a local rulers court (Federspiel 1995: 47). Such was the emphasis in the Banda Islands, where they were also sometimes referred to variously as wali and imam besar—Islamic saints and holy figures, as Islamic or religious teachers (guru Islam; guru agama) and as religious experts or scholars (tokoh agama; ahli agama; kiai).

The Banda datu figures were seen as possessing immense religious knowledge, particularly of the esoteric and mystical elements of Islam, a realm viewed by local Muslims as enormously powerful but difficult to access for the ordinary person in the contemporary world. In the words of one informant: ‘[Their] Islamic knowledge is far greater [than ours]’ (‘pengetahuan agama Islam jauh lebih tinggi’ [Hatta]). This was a result of the datu being close to God (dekat Allah). Informants also described them as the beloved (habib) or grandchildren (cucu) of the prophet Mohammed, who were elevated or glorified by God. Their special status is manifest in their association with keramat: ‘people who give rise to keramat have received honour from the All-Powerful’ (‘orang yang terjadi keramat dapat mulia dari yang Maha Besar’ [Lonthoir]). It is this closeness to God and to Mohammed that is popularly considered as providing them with the capacity to intercede on behalf of those who visit a keramat site.

It is important to note that a repetitive emphasis in adat narratives is on the status of tanah Banda, rather than the agency of the datu. Narratives stress the prominence of the islands in God’s view as giving rise to the siblings and their journey to Mecca. The actions of the siblings do not create the island’s prominence—they are vehicles for the operation of God’s intent. In this respect, the origin of the siblings is popularly linked to a miraculous emergence from a pomegranate fruit, through God’s will. In the 1924 text, this fruit emerged on the same tree encountered by Noah’s dove, later inhabited by Gabriel (Jibrail), the archangel Mohammed met in a cave while meditating and who carried the Qur’an for recitation. In the 1922 text, the pomegranate tree arose through the prayer of a holy woman who desired to eat that particular fruit, and as a result became pregnant. 9 Some informants even maintained that the Banda Islands were considered by God as the birthplace for the prophet Mohammed himself. As evidence, one adat specialist repeated part of a ritual verse that explicitly brings Banda into relation with Mecca: ‘the land of Mecca is heavy, the land of Banda is light; therefore the Prophet was born over there’(‘tanah Mecca berat, tanah Banda ringan; padahal Nabi melahirkan di sana’[Selamon]). He illustrated this using his hands to mimic a set of scales, tipping down in Meccas favour.

The datu and their immense religious knowledge in a sense personify the islands and ultimately remain attached to them. A widespread view suggested that keramat sites were not constructed by human effort but rather appeared miraculously on the death of the holy figure linked to the site. This would occur even if the datu died away from the islands: ‘in speaking of keramat, he dies in a different place, afterwards a keramat appears here by itself’(‘dikatakan keramat, dia mati di tempat lain, nanti keramat jadi di sini sendiri’[Lonthoir]). This emphasis on the mystical providence of keramat sites works against their representation as ‘shrines’, a term applied to similar sites elsewhere in the Muslim world. The expression tends to carry suggestions of a formally bounded or enclosed sacred precinct, relying overmuch on the salience of a profane-sacred opposition. Rather than marking a boundary separating the realms of the sacred and the profane, the Banda keramat bear witness to the generalised significance of the islands to Islam. Where humanly sponsored elements appear at Banda keramat such as tiles, concrete borders, roofs or fences, these were understood as respectful gifts or additions to the site, enhancing its visibility, not as somehow containing sacred substance. Neither were keramat used as repositories for relics or iconic symbols. Many Banda keramat are certainly isolated—located on promontories, cliff-sides and mountaintops relatively remote from homes or human activity. But others are situated within areas of settlement, or adjacent to gardens and well-used paths.

Rather than enclosures, the keramat constitute foci for the potency that imbues the islands more generally. As obvious centres of this force, they attract human attention, but there is no local vision of a sacred precinct, absolutely demarcated or contained by physical boundaries of some form. Though the entire landscape could be regarded as sacred (tanah berkat), in a practical everyday sense some places will of necessity be more revered than others. As Hubert has suggested, ‘not every stone or plot of earth can be treated with the same degree of respect’(1994: 18). The keramat thus can be understood as complex ontological toponyms, specific places that act as potent signifiers of a larger whole. The key perspective in the islands is that adat is fundamentally emplaced: ‘it belongs to the earth/ground, not to people’ (‘tanah punya, bukan orang punya’[Lonthoir]). Linked to the keramat sites and essentially grounded in the islands, the datu spirits were unable to leave tanah Banda with the fleeing population after the Dutch conquest in 1621 but continued to exert a watchful presence and active influence over their original territory. The datu were not considered the ancestors or biological founders (i.e. apical ancestors) of existing populations in the islands.

The datu-datu of the Bandas were associated with place rather than personal origins. They were the figures who founded human community in the islands (‘mulai membuka kampung ini”). It is through their ritually based engagements with these figures and their sites that a population acknowledging its immigrant status is also able to argue that it has become demonstrably local. This identification is grounded literally in their presence on the tanah berkat. In the local view, populations elsewhere that continue to trace origins to the pre-conquest Banda Islands and who might even declare a form of contemporary identification as Bandanese must also recognise that the inability of themselves and their displaced ancestors to continue an intimate connection to the Banda keramat over several centuries has compromised any claims they may wish to assert regarding prior rights in the islands. The legitimacy of the ‘newer’ residents is evident in the relations they have successfully maintained with keramat and datu, a relation intrinsic to the influence that the founder-figures are understood as exerting over general wellbeing in the islands, including the fecundity and accessibility of resources.

A narrative concerning the origins of Hatta Island illustrates this close connection, but also the agency of Allah working through the land, to which the founder-figures are themselves subject. The island was said to have come into existence as the result of a catastrophic event linked to the flooding of another nearby island named Skaru, whose people were bikin kotor (behaving immorally). 12 Only two people were orang bersih (righteous, good, literally ‘clean’), a conjugal couple. Their deliverance and the punishment of the others coincides with Hatta Island’s creation:

There was a large celebration ... an elderly person asked for water, wanted to drink. All the households refused ... those in one home, husband-wife, they provided it. The person told them: ‘Do not go to sleep before twelve o’clock midnight. Shortly, a white chicken will come; climb onto it, shut your eyes; the chicken will fly. Don’t open your eyes until the chicken’s feet bump dry ground.’ The chicken carried the couple to Hatta, on top of Fleeing Mountain. Hatta was newly risen from the sea. Skaru was drowned, the evil population all died. Therefore on Hatta Island, everyone is unsullied.

The place where the righteous spouses landed in Hatta, Gunung Lari (Fleeing Mountain), has a keramat near the peak, said to mark the spot where they first touched the earth. Another less widespread version involved two chickens (male and female) who worked together to save husband and wife respectively. In this case, they did not land on the top of Gunung Lari, but rather at two other important local keramat—keramat tanjung kenari and keramat tanjung buton. These sites were about one kilometre apart on the northern coastline immediately in front of the site of the original negeri (ie the current Kampung Lama). The male landed first at that keramat closest to Skaru because the man was heavier, and the chicken became tired. Those who adhere to the first version tended to see the coastal sites as the two graves of the couple. Conversely, those embracing the second pointed to the mountain-top as their grave. In any case, the role of the coastal keramat illustrates the close relation between these morally exemplary founder-figures and the land itself. They were linked to the erection of two sasi poles (tiang sasi) in the tidal zone (maiti) at either end of the same northern beach and tidal flats stretching for about one kilometre inbetween. Widespread in Maluku, sasi refers to periodic restrictions on the harvesting of a local resource – in this case, focused on trochus-shell-controlled by ritual action that is linked in turn to the sanction of ancestors and/or spirit figures. The placement of these poles effectively closes community access to the resource while their removal permits it. Both actions were simultaneous with the fundamental ritual activity associated with adat practice throughout the islands—the collective construction of sirih containers (tempat sirih) by men and women, which were then carried to several keramat for placement on their surface, along with Muslim prayer. On the island of Banda Besar, the placement of tempat sirih on keramat was sometimes associated with ensuring the supply of water in wells, the abundant fruiting of nutmeg and kenari trees, the successful growth of gardens and their protection from the depredations of wild pigs.

Banda adat practice is revealed here as (re-)inscribing an intimate connection between place, locality and ideas of community and their moral state. Not only was an entire population erased in the past because of the scale of impure action, but the land itself descended under the waves. At the same time, the salience of such forces remained vivid in the contemporary period through the control they exercised over the fruitfulness of the local environment. Indeed, ritual procedures are deemed necessary not only to make particular sought-after resources available, but to ensure their abundance and the safety of those who gather them. The ultimate cause of local catastrophes throughout the Bandas (for example, the 1988 eruption of Gunung Api) were widely interpreted in terms of moral explanations, particularly the conduct of the communities most affected. The practice of adat rituals provides collective opportunities to acknowledge the character of locality and reaffirm and enact the ideals of moral community. A key point is that this concern with local founder figures and locally derived adat was not simply portrayed as an end in itself (i.e. obtaining some direct benefit) but represented as an engagement with the principal terms of locality itself. In a general sense, informants explicitly affirmed a shared perspective of the islands’ importance and their now-obscured pre-colonial history. The datu-datu are not simply magically powerful or religiously potent figures—their autochthonous origins exemplify their closeness to the tanah berkat. They represent a compelling ontological source of localness, a relationship with the cultural terms of belonging to the Banda Islands as place.

1) In T. Reuter (ed.) 2006: Sharing the Earth, Dividing the Land,
dimuat atas kebaikan hati Dr. Phillip Winn
2) School of Archaeology and Anthropology, Faculty of Arts,
Australian National University