Buqga Kan~pai:

~8pøcts of
Malay Culture
Buqga I~an~pai:
~8p~cts of
Malay Culture

Molid. Taib Osman

DEWAN BAHASA DAN PUSTAKA

KEMENTERIAN PENDIDIKAN MALAYSIA
KUALA LUMPUR
1988
 KK 739 — 2896 4102
ISBN 983-62-0633-7

First Published 1984

Reprinted 1988
Copyright © Mohd. Taib Osman, 1988

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PREFACE

The papers included in this volume represent some of the essays

which I have written for the various academic journals, both local
and abroad. They are selected and brought together in this single
volume so that the average reader will find them easily accessible
than they would otherwies be, being spread over in many different
journals and books.

There are really two main areas that the papers deal with: litera-
ture and culture. As a scholar of Malay society and culture, it is
unavoidable that I am interested in literature. It is an expression of
culture for besides being a product which can give us untold plea-
sure in reading it, it also tells us a lot of things which otherwise
would have been hidden in our study of the people producing and
appreciating it. Raja Au Haji is a case in point. While reading his works
like Tuhfat an — Na/is or Silsi!ah Me!ayu dan Bugis can bring us an
endless joy, at the same time these works tell us a great deal of Malay
history and society in the past And in dealing with modern literature we
actually see in it a manifestation of a society or culture in a state of
change, because it is an interaction between the creavity and sensitivity of
individuals and the social situations that occur around them. In short, I
find literature a fascinating subject to study.
The other half of the essays concerns various aspects of Malay
culture. I begin by looking at Malay culture from its traditional
setting. It is my belief that to understand the present situation,
especially with regard to the pangs of change, one has to look at
the element that gives society its sense of mooring. Social change
has not been so drastic in the case of the Malays, and what gives
them a sense of stability and comparative psychological security
in the face of social change is their age-old traditions, which I

V
am glad, have not been thrown overboard in their entirety for the
sake of modernisation. Technological advancement is a must in
this age, and the Malays are caught in the throes of it at the
moment, but I do hope that they have not lost their soul in the
process.
The essays presented here therefore record the traditional as-
pects of the Malay society and culture as studied by one of them.
And at the same time they also reflect the thoughts concerning the social
change facing the society. I hope that the reader will find in them useful
materials in one way or another.

Kuala Lumpur Mohd. Taib Osman, M.A., Ph. D.

Februari 81

vi
Contents

Preface v

1. Oral Traditions in Ulu Tembeling:

Report of Fieldwork in Malaysia 1
2. Classical Malay Literature: A Brief Survey 18
3. Raja Ali Haji of Riau: A Figure of Transition or the
Last of the Classical Pujanggas? 41
4. Modern Malay Literature: A Reflection of a Changing
Society and Culture 67
5. Contemporary Malay Poetry 87
6. Sajakof 1972 95
7. TowardsThe Development of Malaysia’s N4tional Litera-
ture 105
8. Mythic Elements in Malay Historiography 125
9. MythS, Legends and Folk-Tales in Malay Culture 138
10. The Bomoh and The Practice of Malay Medicine 148
11. Patterns of Supernatural Premises Underlying the Institu-
tion of the Bomoh in Malay Culture 162
12. Myth, Ritual and Drama: With Particular Reference to
the Nusantara Area 178
13. Some Observations on the Socio-Cultural Context of
Traditional Malay Music 197
14. Traditional Music In Malaysia: Traditional Expression in
Contemporary Society 207

vii
15. A Place for Traditional Technology in Industrialisation
Planning, Peninsula Malaysia 224
16. Religion and Bureaucracy: The Development and Orga-
nisation of Islamic Religious Administration in Peninsula
Malaysia 255
17. Islamisation of the Malays: A Transformation of Culture 261
18. The Concept of National Culture: The Malaysian Case 273

Viii
1
ORAL TRADITIONS IN ULU TEMBELING:
REPORT OF FIELDWORK IN MALAYSIA *

I. INTRODUCTION:
The project to collect oral tradition materials or folklore in the
upper reaches of the Pahang River was among the three projects of
fieldwork approved by UNESCO for the study of Malay culture.
This particular project was carried out from 22nd April to 9th May
1976 under the direction of the writer.

II. ITINERARY:
The team consisting of four fieldworkers and two assistants left
Kuala Lumpur for Jerantut on 22nd April 1976 and spenTT~night
preparing for the journey up the Tembeling River. The next day,
we travelled by road to Kuala Tembeling where the main Pahang
River branches into two tributaries the Tembeling and the Jelai.
—-

From Kuala Tembeling we travelled by motorboat to Kuala Tahan,

where the Taman Negara (National park) has its headquarters. We
stayed at Kuala Tahan for four days, visiting surrounding villa-
ges such as Kampung Pagi and Sungai Tiang. From these riverine
villages we collected some oral tradition materials (see Appendix)
On 26th April we left Kuala Tahan by boat for Kampung Bantal
in Ulu Tembeling where we established our base. From this base,
we visited the neighbouring villages, namely, Kampung Pulau
* Grateful acknowledgement is herewith made to Un~co for
permission to publish this report

1
Besar, Kampung Cheneh, Kampung Mat Daling, Kampung Gusal
and Kampung Sungai Kuching. At these riverine settlements,
materials on folklore were observed, collected and noted (e.g.
wedding customs and rituals in curing the sick) but some infor-
mants were also brought to Kampung Bantal when necessary. The
team wished to stay here longer for there were a lot of materials
still to be recorded and documented, but we had to leave Kampung
Bantal on 6th May and we reached Kuala Lur?ipur on 9th May.
1976.

III. THE AREA: CEOGRAPHICAL AND SOCIOECONOMIC

OUTLINE.
The Pahang River bifurcates at Kuala Tembeling with the Jelai
and the Tembeling. The Tembeling and its upper tributaries flow
from the foothills of the mountains which form the borders bet-
ween Pahang and Trengganu on one side and Pahang and Kelan-
tan on the other. According to local informants, the usual route
from the Tembeling valley to Trengganu is by way of one of its
tributaries, Sungai Lurut, over the saddle of a mountain known as
Gunung Mandi Angin, and down the upper reaches of Sungai
Dungun. (It is to be noted, however, that there is a discrepancy
between the information given and the place names printed on the
map. The map places Gunung Mandi Angin more to the north, and
the mountain that separates Sungai Lurut and Sungai Dungun is
called Gunung Diwangsa). During April and May, the water level
in Sungai Tembeling is quite low. We had to drag the boat over the
rapids between Kuala Tahan and Kampung Pagi and also over the
sand bars between Kuala Sat and Kampung Bantal. However, the
river usually floods its banks during the months of December and
January: during these two months, river travelling on the Tembe-
ling, for that matter on any river in Peninsular Malaysia is dange-
rous.
There are many settlements on both banks of the river between
Kuala Tembeling and Kuala Tahan, but beyond Kuala Tahan, the
settlements are not only far-between but are sparsely populated.
Apart from the main villages of Kampung Pagi, Kampung Kuala
Sat, Kampung Bantal, Kampung Gusal and Kampung Mat Da-
ling, most of the other villages marked on the map have only two
to six households. The least inhabited point that we came across
during our fieldwork, appeared to be Kampung Tembung where
there were only two households.
The population upstream beyond Kuala Tahan is totally native

2
Malay, with one settlement of Orang Ash (aborigines) at Sungai
Kuching. Just downstream from Kuala Tahan, there is also a
settlement of Orang Ash at Sungai Tiang. The Orang Ash of these
two places are identified as belonging to the Semoq Ben group. At
Kuala Tahan itself, there is a small group of Orang Ash belonging
to the Bateq group. Their settlements are actually further inland in
deep jungle, but they have a temporary post in Kuala Tahan
because they work as guides to the tourists visiting the National
Park. According to the !~stc~~u;, t’ñere are about 2,iC,~~ in
the area upstream of Kuala Tahan.
The National Electricity Board is planning to have a hydro-
electric dam built across the Tembeling a mile or two upstream of
1 When this plan materiahises, perhaps in the early
Kuala Tahan.
eighties, the area upstream up to the 400 foot level will be submer-
ged under water. It is because of this fact that the work to collect
the oral traditions in the area assumes added importance and
urgency. Although the population will be resettled elsewhere, it is
possible that the traditions which are embedded in their way of life
and related to the physical environment around them would be lost
or at least modified.
The main economic pursuit of the Malay population in the area
is planting rubber as cash crop. Rice is also cultivated but mainly
for subsistence. As in the case of other Malay villages, fruit trees
are a source of income only during the fruit season, that is, from
July to September. Water buffaloes are reared not for own con-
sumption (except on wedding celebrations and festivals) btit for
sale at Kuala Tembehing. As transportation is very expensive on
the river, the buffaloes are led down the river in batches of fifteen
to twenty by two or three handlers who would take seven to ten
days to accomplish their task. Rubber and other commodities such
as rattan are usually brought downriver by means of bamboo rafts,
for motorboats would mean an addition to the capital outlay of the
farmers. However, the marketing organisation is to some extent
being taken over by some village coopertives, although some
indMduals continue to transport their produce to Kuala Tern-
beling. It is difficult to assess the average income or the
average holdings of the people in the area until the socio-
economic data collected are anylised. Speciahised vocations such
as boatmaking and sugar refining are also observed. Gathering of
jungle produce such as gambler and tree-gums, although presently
pursued on a small scale by the Malays, is still an important occupation
among the Orang Ash.

3
 From the interviews, it has become clear that the web of kinship
is finely woven among the people of the area, especially among
those who bear the hereditary tithe of Wan. In fact the important
famihies of the area belong to this class of people, and are often
addressed as Engku. a term reserved in Malay for those of royal
blood. Most of those in position of leadership — the Penghulu (the
administrative head of the Mukim of Ulu Ternbeling) and the in-
fluential political leaders are both Wan and are related. In Kam-
pung Pulau Besar, for instance, there are seven households, four
of which are Wans: they can trace their descent to Wan Ismail who
was one of those local chiefs that helped Tengku Ahmad to found
the present Pahang ruling house in 1863. The dose-knit kinship
system is explained by the fact that the area is comparatively a
closed one, although its traffic with Dungun in Trengganu should
not be overlooked. In the kinship network of the area many of the
families do have ties with people in Dungun. Some of the families
are actually first generation migrants from Dungun into the area.
Another item of information which needs verification is whether
the settlers along River Sat, a tributary of the Tembehing, have
close relationship with the people of Lebir River in Ulu Kelantan. It
appears that from the upper reaches of Sat River one can cross
over a saddle in Gunung Gagau and reach the Lebir River in
Ulu Kelantan.
IV. ORAL TRADITION MATERIALS COLLECTED
A detailed list of the items collected is found in the Appendix. This
section however discusses the nature of the materials collected,
their significance to the anthropological study of the area, and
plans for further fieldwork.
Two assumptions were made before beginning the fieldwork:
frist, the area would yield a good crop of oral tradition materials
and secondly, it was culturally an isolated area. The first assump-
tion was borne out to some extent, but the second one was found to
be not very true. The close contact with Dungun in Trengganu or
with Ulu Kelantan through Sat River has brought to this area tradi-
tions which are identifiable with those two sources. Broadly spea-
* For administrative purposes in Malaysia, a state is divided
into districts under District Officers, and the districts are
further divided into Mukims under Penghulus.A number of
villages (kampung) make up a Mukim. The Mukim of Ulu
Tembehing is in the district of Jerantut.

4
king, the materials collected can be classified as narratives (mainly
folktales and local legends), folk beliefs and folk medicine, folk
songs, dances and games, genealogiesand historical reminiscences, and
material culture.

(a) Folk Narratives

(i) Tales: All together we managed to put on tape 15 tales:
7 are classified as long and 8 as short tales. The long
tales are usually sung to a particular tune. Some of
these tales have been collected before, but never so
completely recorded as this time. The longest tale
which came to about 15 hours of recording was Awang
Malim Dewana. This tale was related by a 65 year old
woman Fatimah bt. Arif of Kampung Mogol who ori-
ginally came from Dungun, Trengganu. She learnt
the tale from her father. From her we also recorded
two other long tales, Raja Kuang and Burung Si Agut,
a number of short tales about Sang Kancil (a well-
known character in Malay animal stories) and about
Pak Pandir (a proverbial character of a fool in Malay
folktales). She has in her reportoire other tales but we
did not have time to record them.
Another story-teller was a sixty-five year old man,
Abdullah bin Mat from Kampung Cheneh. He was a
local man born in Kampung Kuala Sat. He recited two
long tales, both with tune, and a couple of short ones,
also about Sang Kancil or Pelanduk and Pak Pandir.
The long ones were Raja Muda Cik Sandang which he
learnt from his brother-in-law, a Dungun man, and
Bujang Gading, a tale which he learnt from an Orang
Ash convert (i.e. converted into a Muslim), Tahir by
name, who also lives in Kampung Cheneh. The latter
could not be contacted.
From Ti bt. Mohd Endut we managed to record two
tales with tune called Mak Busu Sungai Mengkinang
and Malim Anak China. (Because of lack of time, the
last one had to be told partly by direct prose and minus
the usual story-telling frills). About 40 years old, Ti is
from Kampung Bantal. She learnt her stories from her
father when she was a young girl of 14, Ti was also one
of the women in Kampung Bantal who performed the

5
Tan Pulau and sang the nazam and the folk songs we-
recorded.
Other raconteurs we recorded from were not as
accomplished as the three above. Talib bin Awang
Kechik of Kuala Tahan told in plain prose two short
tales: Empat Pemuda and Tekun Tebu; dan Pawang
Nong of Kampung Pagi related Saudagar Abdu!lah
dengan Anak Angkat dan Anak Sendini. An important
observation to be made here is that the long tales
which are sung and told in a stylised manner need
accomplished raconteurs to recite them, and they are
not meant only for entertainment.
Ti informed us that she intoned her tales while
working with other women in the rice-fields and the
last time she recited Malim Anak China was during
the previous rice harvest. Abdullah bin Mat also told
us that mostly he recited his tales when he was camp-
ing out in a group either on a fishing expedition or
garhering jungle produce upstream. It is clear that
story-telling among the people of Ulu Tembeling is
closely associated with group work, besides being a
form of entertainment.
Another observation is that story-telling is confined
to the older generation. Ti at 40, is about the last link
that the present has with the tradition of stylised story-
telling. Much as we tried, we could not persuade
anyone below 40 to tell stories, even the anecdotal
short ones, which some of them claimed to have heard
at one time or another from their elders.
Most of our informants in Ulu Tembehing were re-
served. However, Wan Hashim, who since his
younger brother’s death (Abdul Jalil), has
taken over the political leadership of the area,
is a sophisticated informant when it comes to
the recent history of Ulu Tembeling. His great
grandfather, Wan Ismaih, was the main supporter
of Wan Ahmad when the latter descended on Ulu Tem-
beling from Trengganu and made a claim to the throne
of Pahang in the early 1860 The prime interest of
Wan Hashim and other members of his family seems
to be the assertion of their leading status in the Ulu
Tembehing community. A letter of authority from Sul-

6
 tan Ahmad giving Wan Ismail the right to settle in Ulu
Tembehing is used as a kind of legitimacy for his fami-
ly’s leading position in the area. Thus informants like
Wan Hashim and members of his family would provide
versions which tend to highlight the role of Wan Is-
mail. However, their accounts are not at variance with
the history textbooks on Pahang.
Other historical events which took place in Ulu Tern-
beling, such as the retreat of Datuk Bahaman and Mat
Kilau after their armed struggle with the British in the
early 1890s are not well-remembered by the present
generation. Our attempts to get personal memories of
the events from the old people drew a blank because
the oldest man in Kampung Bantal, Bomoh Mat Pitah
(see below), who claimed himself to be 97 years old,
was only a young boy when the events took place. He
càuld only remember that he and his family were
taken to Kuala Tembehing because Ulu Tembeling
was in difficult times of war.
However, we managed to collect a number of local
legends pertaining to place-names. Although the ori-
gin of some of the place-names has been forgotten,
many of the older generation can still relate stories
explaining how the villages, settlements and land-
marks derived their names. Some of these stories are
legends, while others refer to their geological forma-
tions. Thus Pulau Besar (Big Island) was actually an
island at one time, but because of the sediments depo-
sited by the meandering Tembeling after so many
floods over the years, the village is no longer an island,
but a high ground with the river on one side and a
marsh (paya) for planting rice on the other, joining it
with the mainland. Kampung Bantal is not actually a
bantal meaning “pillow”, but rather bantai, that is, ‘to
flog’. The metamorphosis from bantai to bantal is most
likely because of the local pronunciation of the word
where the final (ai) and (al) are indistinguishable.
There is a story behind the name Bantai: it tells of
some Minangkabau men (according to some versions,
Dayak) who successfully flogged to death a huge snake
which was preying on people and animals alike as they
pass by on the river.

7
(b) Religion, Folk Beliefs and Folk Medicine
Except for the Orang Ash at Sungai Tiang and Sungai
Kuching, all people in Uhu Tembehing are Muslim Ma-
lays. The larger villages like Kampung Pagi, Kampung
Bantal and Kampung Mat Dahing have mosques where
the Friday congregational prayer is said, even if the
daily prayers are not offered there. The smaller settle-
ments have suraus (small prayer house). As in the rest
of the state, the Mukim of Uhu Tembeling comes under
the administration of the Pahang Religious Affairs.
Department. The sub-administrative centre for reli-
gious affairs is Jerantut where there is a District Kadi
(Religious Judge). For the Mukim of Ulu Tembehing,
there is a Wall Hakim. who represents the Kadi. But
.

whilst the Kadi has wider functions than just being a

registrar of marriages, divorces or reconciliations, the
function of Wali Hakim in Ulu Tembeling seems to be
limited to officiating at marriages, divorces or reconci-
hiations. He sometimes delegates his functions to the
imam of a village if there are no complications. For
instance, the bride has a wall (guardian) to give her
away in marriage. In such instances, the imam gets
half of the fee due to the Wali Hakim. The delegation
of function is done because of the difficulty of travel,
but if the case warrants his presence, for example,
when the bride has no wall, then the Wall Hakim, has to
officiate personally. The collection of the religious tithe
(zakat/fitrah) is not done by the Wall Hakim, but by
the Amil (collector) who works under the village head-
man (Ketua Kampung or Tok Empat). From the inter-
views conducted with the local people, it appears that
matters like family squabbles, which would normally
be referred in Malay community life to religious lea-
ders, are referred here to the village headmen (Ketua
Kampung or Tok Empat) or to the Penghulu himself.
I do not see this, however, as a gap between religious
and temporal leadership but rather as a complemen-
tary arrangement.
If there is any manifest friction, it is between the
religious view on one side and some practices which we
may call folk beliefs and practices on the other. The
realm of folk beliefs and practices covers a wide

8
 spectrum of activities, from magical practices and
curing of the sick to games which invoke the aid of the
spirit world. The friction is not unusual in Malay
society where the official religion of Islam is irreconci-
lably opposed to the recognition of the spirit world.
Thus folk beliefs, which represent the ohde~stratum of
the Malay belief system before the advent and
acceptance of Islam, are looked upon with an
ambivalent attitude. The tendency is to rationahise
or syncretise, at least in interpretation, the two
elements. Thus the Wall Hakim is also a Pawang
Tanah (Shaman who propitiates the guardian spirit of
the land before it is used for cultivation or habitation);
his incantations and explanation of the concept of pro-
pitiating the guardian spirits of the land are coloured
by Islamic notions.
However folk beliefs especially those elements con-
nected with the art of curing the sick, still manage to
hold their own despite oppositions both from the reli-
gious quarters and from the ‘modern-minded’ as
represented by the local school teachers. There are a
government health clinic and a maternity centre at
Kampung Bantal, but the local medicine man, Mat
Pitah, is still called upon to administer to the sick.
During the fieldwork I had the opportunity to sit in on
one of his curing sessions. Much of the folk belief
materials were noted down and recorded from my long
talks with him. One obvious feature which surfac2d
during our conversations was his sensitiveness to the
issue of opposition from the formal religion (Islam) to
what he stood for. He resolved this by insisting that the
evil spirits or other maverick spirits were also the
creation of God; they, however, originated from Azazil,
an angel who refused to submit to the form of Adam
(Lembaga Adorn) as the finest creation of God. The
items that I managed to gather from this particular
informant included various incantations, love magic,
the art of curing the sick, main puteni and main dewa
(trance dances used as a kind of psycho-therapy).
(c) Folk songs. Dances and Games
There are two distinguishable types of songs recorded,

9
the religious chants (dikir and nazam) and the secular
traditional ones which have survived among a group of
middle-aged ladies in Kampung Bantal. The nazam,
which is a song in praise of the Holy Prophet Muham-
mad, is sung in a group. Although there is a book
placed in the centre, it is only used-as a prompter, for
the ladies sitting around in a circle usually memorise
the verses which are in Malay. There is a leader who
sings the leading verse and she is echoed or chorused
by the others. Two recordings were made of the
nazam, one at Kuala Tahan and the other at Kampung
Bantal, both chanted by a group of middle-aged ladies.
The nazam incidentally is not accompanied by any
musical instrument. The other type of religious song
is the Dikir Pahang, which was performed by a group
of six men in Kampung Bantal. The verses are in
Arabic but the performance is similar to the nazam,
that is, one leads and the others chorus to the accom-
paniment of the rebana (drum), with which the
singers measure the beat and rhythm of their singing.
It is a popular form of past-time at weddings and
gatherings and has religious connotations because the
verses are, like nazam, songs of praise for the Holy
Prophet Muhammad (S.A.W.).
More interesting are the folk songs used to accom-
pany a work-dance known as Main Pulau. This form of
past-time is almost moribund, but a few middle-aged
ladies still remember the~songsand the dance. Main
Pulau was usually perfomed when the ladies got to-
gether to work on the paddy nursery-beds or to weed
the paddy fields (merumput). In other words, they
sang and danced while weeding the paddy-fields or
tending to the nursery beds. According to oUr infQr-
mants, competitions used to be held between different
working groups. The earliest to finish the chore would
rush to a pole and grab the sweets and cakes which
decorated the pole. Being a work-play rather than an
actual dance, Main Pulau is performed by a number of
ladies who encircle the plot on which they are going to
work. Equipped with sickles (kni or kiut), they would
sing, dance and work their way to the centre of the
circle, where the leader who leads in the singing

10
 (mengadi) works. Once they reach the centre, they
will end their song and dance with a yell.
There are many songs and dances that go into a
Main Pulau, but the players have to begin with Me~
ngambil Indung (fetching the Indung) and end with
Kembali Indung (sending back the Indung). In bet-
ween there are a variety of songs and dance-steps,
some of which are almost alike. I managed to record
30 different songs for Main Pulau from the group of
women in Kampung Bantal. Each song is usually made
up of pantuns and the chorus (see Appendix). Two
performances of Main Pulau were given by the ladies,
and excerpts were recorded by cine-camera and
tape recorder.
-

Some informants confirmed my suspicion that Main

Pukzu had its origin in the ancients Malay belief of
Semangat Padi (padi spirits) because of the rule that it
must begin by fetching the indung and sending it back
at the end of the performance. However, some infor-
mants would insist that indung was a human and that
the play had nothing to do with the old animistic
concept of the Malays. It is significant that those ven-
turing this view belonged to the religious-oriented
in the community. In fact they were the same people
who did not show enthusiasm when the bomoh, Mat
Pitah, performed for us an almost forgotten Malay
past-time of old — Main Lukah or Tori Lukah (the fish-
trap dance). Underlying this attitude is the usual con-
flict in Malay society that exists between the puristic
teachings of the formal religion of Islam and the beliefs
and practices inherited from the distant past followed
and performed for pragmatic ends such as curing the
sick, divining lost objects or one’s future, influencing
the dispositions of others as in the affairs of the
heart, etc.
Main Lukah or Tan Lukah which was mentioned
earlier was performed by the bomoh, Mat Pitah. He
did two performances for us which were photographed
by cine-camera. Skeat in his Malay Magic2 mentions
about Main Lukah and its other variants like OIek
Mayang. Personally I never expected to find anyone
who can still perform Tori Lukah, not only because it is

11
an old Malay past-time but more so because it involves
an invocation of the spirit to animate the fish-trap to
dance, the practice of which is frowned upon by strict
religious teachings. This explains why, as I have said
above, some members of the community in Kampung
Bantal were not enthusiastic about it. Another type of
response was from the village school-teachers and
the younger set who had been to secondary schools
outside the community: their attitude was to test the
vilidity of the claim by the bomoh that the fish-trap
danced because it was animated by the spirits
invoked rather than by one of the bomoh’s assistants.
According to Mat Pitah, the fish-trap (lukah) to be
used for the dance had to be constructed from special
bamboo and rattan. In the performance some music
must be played and for the dance that was put on for us
only a drum (gendang) was available. Traditionally
the musicS would consist of gongs, serunai (flute),
rebab (stringed instrument) besides the drum. There
must be singing too while the trap dances, handled by
two people. Mat Pltah explained that the music and
singing would encourage the spirits to dance the Lukah
vigorQusly.
The lukah is first of all dressed in a 1oose
Malay shirt (baju gobang), a sarong is tied up
like a turban at the top. A stick is put thtough
the upper part to form a pair of arms. The Bomoh
then reads an incantation over a burning, incense,
and then places the lukah over it so that the smoke
envelopes the body of the lukah. Then together
with the help of another person, the bomoh holds the
bottom of the lukah. Soon the lukah begins to move by
swaying from side to side as the music and singing are
in full swing. Another handler then takes over from
the bomoh, who is now free to conduct the movement
of the lukah. He does this by shouting instructions to
the lukah to bend right or heft (liuk kin; liuk kanan)
while hitting it with a whip made up of five fine long
strands of lidi kelapa (rib of coconut leaf). The whole
atmosphere ismeant to be swathed in an air of magic —

the inanimate lukah is animated to dance by the spirits

12
 at the behest of the bomoh. although there are two
handlers handling the bottom of the Iukah (Mat Putih
explained that this was necessary because the Iukah has
no legs to dance on its own). While the smoke from the
burning incense billows and while the musician fill the
air. the Iukah dances. and the audience. some in utter
amusement, respond noisily by shouting encouragement
to the dancing fish-trap. It was a game of old, but the
magic (in another sense) still holds for the present-day
audience.
A few pantuns (Malay folk poems) were also recor-
ded from the story-teller Abdullah Mat. Being a man of
many talents, Abdullah also played a short bamboo
flute called locally buluh seredam. We recorded a short
rendering of his skill on the flute.
As for children’s games, we could not detect the tra-
ditional ones being played. The favourite game is of
course the perennial football. However, it was interes-
ting to observe that among younger children of six to
twelve, the craze was to build cars from boxes and
wheels, complete with headlights and licence plates.
The nearest point where one can see contraptions like
motor cars will be Kuala Tembehing, but the children
must have seen them in their visits downriver.

(d) Material Culture

Apart from the tape-recorder, the camera was used to
record aspects of the traditions pertaining to material
culture. Modern technology is not unknown to the
people of Ulu Tembeling, but because of the remote-
ness of their settlements, much of their creativity
depended upon traditional technology which must have
been handed down from generation to generation.
Boat-making, especially the dug-outs, is one of the
skilful trades to be found in Ulu Tembehing. The dug-out
is actually the chief means of transportation on the river. It
is interesting to note that the bigger boats which take
outboard motors have as their foundation the dug-out.
This is because the boats plying the Tembehing have to
reckon not only with rocks at the rapids but also sand-
bars. Therefore they must have strong solid keels to

13
 overcome these treacherous obstacles. There are two
or three ‘shipyards’ where the motorised boats can be
built, but the art of making dug-outs seems to be quite
widespread.
In the place where processed timber has to be
brought all the way from Kuala Tembehing, planks and
tiles are a luxury. Almost all the dwellings are there-
fore made of roughly hewn timber with the bark of the
kapur tree as the walls. The homes are usually of a
simple structure with the main building a rectangular
block raised about four to five feet above ground-level.
Attached to the main structure is the kitchen, also a
rectangular block, but much smaller in size compared
with the main house. There are variations, but what
has been described is the basic pattern of the dwellings
in the area.
Other artifacts that have been noted include imple-
ments connected with rice-cultivation, a sugar-press
made entirely of wood, boats together with the tech-
nique of boat-building, and musical instruments.

Conclusion:
The Ulu Tembehing area, because of its comparative isolated-
ness, and being off the mainstream of socio-cultural development
in Malaysia, still retains some of the Malay traditions which
elsewhere have disappeared or have at least been eroded by mo-
dern practices. Some of these traditions still vie strongly with the
new institutions brought into the community. Thus traditional
medicine continues to live side by side with the Government
Health Clinic, and the nazam and dikir are still a living past-time
inspite of the radio. But some have become almost moribund, like
the main puteni, main lukahor main dewa. These traditions survive
as long as their present carriers are alive, although they are sel-
dom practised today. But in the long-run, traditions which have
been handed down orally for generations are still to be found in
Uhu Tembehing. Almost three weeks were spent recording and
documenting these traditions but there are a lot more which await
the collector and the researcher. A few more field-trips to the area
are therefore necessary. And these will have to be carried out be-
fore the whole area is inundated when the hydro-electric dam is

14
completed. While economic progress will eventually overtake the
people of Ulu Tembeling, it is important for the posterity to have
on record their ancient traditions as part of their cultural history.

Notes.
1. This project has since been abandoned.
2. Skeat W.W.. Malay Magic: Being An Introduction to the Folkfore and
Popular Religion of Malay Peninsula, London, 1896.

15
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2
CLASSICAL MALAY LITERATURE:
A BRIEF SURVEY

The Background
Literary historians dealing with Malay Literature have found it
convenient to divide Malay literary works into two categories: the
traditional or classical on the one hand and the modern or new
literature on the other. By traditional or classiced literature
they mean the literary styles characteristic of the period before
Western civilisation made its impact felt on the life of the
Malays. It is true that the Malays had come into contact with the
West since the 16th century with the conquest of Malacca by the
Portuguese in 1511 AD. However, it was not until the late nine-
teenth century and the beginning of the present one that Malay
society and culture had experienced a massive socio-cultural change
as a result of Western domination. Before that time, contact with the
West had been kept on the fringe. Except fot the early English
colonies like Penang, Malacca and Singapore in the 19th century
where contact with the West had made possible the writings of
Abdullah Munshi, the so-called father of modern Malay literature,
the rest of the Malay peninsula had still not felt the direct in-
fluence of Western civilisation. However, the subsequent wester-
nisation of the society provided only the setting for the growth of
a new literary idiom, for the first seeds of the new literature did not
come from the West but from the literatures of Egypt and In-
donesia.
Westernisation represents but a phase in the history of the Ma-

18
lay people; before that the Malays had already gone through pe-
nods in history during which the influence of foreign civilisations
had left indelible marks on their culture. For more than a thousand
years, beginning from about the first century A.D. or even earlier,
Indian civilisation had exerted its influence on Malay society and
at the sama time helped to formulate various cultural traditions of
the people, including literature. The use of Indian scripts like the
Palava and the Nagari, the assimilation of numerous Sanskrit and
Tamil words into the Malay language, the adoption of Hindu,
Buddhist and Sivaistic religious thoughts, law, social and moral
codes, ceremonies and rituals, some of which are still manifest to-
day, reflect the extent of cultural borrowing and the process of
acculturation prevailing at the time.
Then, beg~nningabout the thirteenth or the fourteenth century
of the Christian era, another civilisation, that of Islam, came to
exert its influence on the Malays. Brought into the Nusantara via
Persia and India, Islam did not only introduce a new religious
faith, but also brought in its wake the Islamic cultural influences
from Persia and India to the Malay area. Being receptive to foreign
influences, the Malays soon adopted for themselves new ideas and
values in the various aspects of life. But the adoption of the new
religion and its attendant cultural influences did not eradicate enti-
rely the cultural elements of the pre-Islamic period. The cultural
heritage of the pre-and post-Indian periods survived in parts and
continued to live side by side with the new order. The situation is
best reflected by the fact that words of Sanskrit derivation like
puasa (fasting), neraka (hell), syurga (heaven), and agama
(religion) had been retained to denote ideas and pratices brought
by Islam and adopted by the Malays as part of their way of life.
Perhaps the most important contribution of Islam to Malay cul-
ture is the Arabic script, popularly known as the “Jawi” script. Al-
most without exception, traditional Malay literature including
those of Hindu provenance inherited from the preceeding period
had been written in this script. One of the oldest Malay manus-
cripts known to have been preserved since the fifteenth centry is
the Malay version of the Indian epic, the Ramayana. Known as
Hikayat Sen Rama, it was written in the Jawi script. It can safely
be said that classical Malay works which have come to us in the
form of manuscripts were mainly the product of the Muslim pe-
riod. But as a whole, it reflects a rich blending of diverse cultural
traditions which made up the fabric of traditional Malay culture.
However, this characteristic may lead one to see only the borrowed

19
elements, and we are prone to share Sir Richard Winstedt’s view
when he said, “Anyone who surveys the field of Malay literature
will be struck by the amazing abundance of its foreign flora and the
rarity of indigenous growths” This view is quite misleading, for
classical Malay literature is actually a manifestation of a process of
acculturation. What is interesting to observe is how foreign
narratives have been adopted according to the literary taste of the
indigenous culture and how the ideas conveyed by works of foreign
origin fitted into the local social fabric.
Classical Malay literature can be said to have two types of tradi-
tions: the written tradition and the oral tradition. The focal point of
the traditional society before the advent of Western domination
had been the royal courts or the pre-industrialised urban centres.
It was at the royal courts that the bards and the scribes could be
maintained to write or adapt from foreign sources scholarly works
on religion, compile the histories or sejarah of the ruling dynasties,
and copy works on Islamic law, history and theology, and the
colourful romances featuring Persian, Indian and local dramatis
personae and settings.
If written literature was the product of the royal courts, the oral
tradition flourished among the rakyat, the common people in the
kampung (villages) and ulu (upstream). The oral tradition of the
Malay rakyat like the oral tradition and the folk narratives ofother
peoples, was handed down from one generation to the next without
the aid of writing. Like the written literature, the oral tradition also
reflects the blending of the different civilisations which have made
an impact on the common culture of the Malays. Perhaps it is in
the folktale that the blending seems to be more harmonious and
colourful. We can easily recognise those folktales which must have
been brought to the shores of the Malay Peninsula from distant
places, but they soon underwent a process of what the scholars of
folktale would call “oicotypification”, and they became, for all in-
tents and purposes, Malay folktales.

Folk Narratives
While written literature flourished in the royal courts, the
simple folks in the kampung had the storytellers to entertain them
with tales which had been handed down orally through the ages. In
the days when entertainment like the cinema was unknown, or
even now in remote villages where the modern way of life has still
not made a deep impression on the villagers, the story-teller was

20
and is an important person in village life. Aptly called the “Peng-
upon-lana” or the “soother of cares”, the story-teller entertained
his listeners with tales about beautiful princes or princesses,
adventures of princely heroes, pranks played on other animals by
the minikin mouse-dear (Sang Kancil), the foolish antics of the
simpleton Pak Pandir, or the escapades of Pak Belalang who out-
wits his king for his own advantage. W.E. Maxwell who witnessed
the art of story-telling among the Malay kampung folk in the late
nineteenth century had the following to say of the Malay story-
teller:
A small reward, a hearty welcome,
and a good meal await the Malay rhapsodist
wherever hegoes~andhe wanders among
the Malay villages as Homer did among
the Greek cities.
Without doubt the art of oral story-telling is gradually disap-
pearing in the Malay Peninsula, but it still survives in the Malay
villages as in Kelantan where the “Tok Selampit” still plies his
trade accompanied by his stringed-instrument called the rebab.
Hundreds of tales have been collected during the past twenty
years or so through efforts by individuals and interested institu-
tions. Mr. Zakaria bin Hitam of Kuantan, Pahang, for example,
has collected over the past years, more than a hundred traditional
oral tales from all over the state of Pahang. And through the
efforts of people like Mr. Zakaria, the tales which otherwise would
have disappeared for good are now preserved in writing. Some of
them have been published, thus making the tales accessible to a
wider audience.
A survey of Malay folktales would reveal a motley collection of
types not unknown to the oral tradition of other nations. Some are
quite similar to tales found in the cultures of the peoples with
whom the Malays had come into contact at one time or another.
This is an outcome of cultural borrowing, but such tales as they
become the property of the Malay story-teller show that they have
undergone and -been subjected to a thorough process of adaptation
or “local colouring”. There are also many narratives in the form of
aetiological tales explaining the origin of things, legends and
myths relating to the pre-Islamic beliefs of the Malays.
The most well-known and widespread narratives are the folk-
romances, a name first given by R.J. Wilkinson. The folk-roman-
ces would normally come under the term “m~rchen”in the gene-

21
ral classification of folktales, but they show distinctive Malay style
of story-telling. They are narratives which have as their dramatis-
personae princes and princesses on the one hand, and villains of
the piece — genies and giants— on the other. A typical Malay
folk-romance has a princely hero who holds the centre of the stage.
Usually, the hero is a prince or heir to the throne of a certain king-
dom. Right from his birth he is endowed with not only good appear-
ances but also with superhuman magical powers. Then an inci-
dent happens which sets him off on a journey of adventure. Per-
haps it is the prophecy of some evil astrologers that he will bring
ill-luck which causes him to be driven out of his father’s kingdom
and sets him off to redeem himself. Or, it is because of a dream
he has of a beautiful princess that he goes on a journey looking for
her. His adventure is pregnant with wondrous incidents; perhaps
he has to fight his rivals for the hand of his princess, or he has to
overcome obstacles to achieve whatever he sets out to do. His feats
are usually so vividly described by the story-teller that they easily
can enthrall the listeners.
A typical example of a Malay folk-romance is an oral version of
the story of Rama which was written down by W.E Maxwell, late in the
19th century, in Perak, from a well-known “penglipor-lara” of the
past, Mir 1-lassan. This oral tale of Rama undoubtedly shows cultu-
ral borrowing, but in structure and in inspiration, it belongs to the
Malay folk tradition. Thus it even differs from the written version,
the Hikayat Sen Rama which keeps close to the original plots of the
great Indian epic. The Malay written version of the Rama epic is
undoubtedly a product of the court culture for it conveys the
essence of the social order prevailing at the time, that is a feudal
society, in which sense of loyalty, patriotism, heroism, the warrior
code and other moral dictums were cherished. Mir Hassan’s ver-
sion, on the other hand, is not exactly the story of Rama. The few
plots which can be recognised as the plots to be found in the Rama-
yana are interpolated so as to accomodate the style of a Malay folk-
romance. In this folk version, the hero is not Rama but rather his
son who assumes the shape of a monkey. Undoubtedly, the hero is
reminiscent of Hanuman, the monkey hero of the Ramayana. Dri-
ven out of his father’s kingdom, lest he brings shame to his pa-
rents because of his monkey form, the hero starts on his adventure
which includes some of the familiar plots in Ramayana, such as the
hero helping his father Rama to rescue Sita from Rawana and the
burning of Rawana’s castle. In the main, however, the plots of the
tale fit into the scheme of a Malay folk-romance. For example, it is

22
during the adventure that he first meets a princess who finally
becomes his bride when he later assumes the human form. And as
in a typical Malay folk-romance, the hero then becomes a king and
lives happily ever after with his queen.
The names of the characters for example, are a hotch-potch of
various literary traditions as such names would suggest: “Tuan
Puteni Sa-Kuntum Bunga,” is a local rendering of Sita and “Shah
Numan” is obviously of Persian derivation. But “Sen Rama”,
“Rawana”, and “Raja Laksamana” are obviously drawn from the
Ramayana. Names of places, for example, are either indigenous,
such as “Negeri Tanjung Bunga” or corrupted from the written
version, such as “Kachapuni” for “Langkapuni”. The setting for
the tale is unavoidably local in touch: a Malay royal court with its
retinue for Raja Sen Rama and a garden of mango trees and coco-
nut palms for the garden Rawana. With all the attempt by the
raconteur to conjure up the image of sophistication for the princely
world of the tale, the picture of village simplicity is projected
instead. The grandeur of a royal wedding, for example, has the
local village dignitaries—the lebai (local priest) and the haji
(one who has gone to pilgrimage in Mecca) — attending. Anachro-
nisms, such as the use of pistol in battles or the display of the
white flag as a token of surrender are also to be seen. Obviously,
these are later additions because such objects or symbolism were
not to be found in the Malay weltanschauung before the 18th or
19th century. A Malay folk-romance therefore blends together
indigenous as well as foreign literary elements into a tradition
which has been accepted by the Malay folk as its own.
Besides the folk-romances, there are the humorous tales about a
dull-wilted simpleton, that proverbial character Pak Pandir (Father
Folly as Winstedt calls him), the luckless priest, Lebai Malang,
and stories of the antics of Si Luncai and Pak Belalang who outwit
others to further their own ends. There are other characters, like
Mat Jenin and Abu Nawas, which obviously originated from the
Muslim civilizations of Arabia and Persia. The antics of Pak Pandir
or the lucklessness of Lebai Malang would undoubtedly entertain
any audience. Imagine, for example, Pak Pandir leading back a
sickle at the end of a string just because his wife, Mak Andeh,
describes a buffalo as a thing which eats grass; or the indecision of
Lebai Malang whether to go to a funeral where he can get a pre-
sent of cloth or to a feast where fine food is served, but in the end
he gets neither. The stories of Pak Belalang and Si Lunchai are
definitely foreign importations. Th~episodes have many parallels

23
in the tales of other nations.
There are also many animal tales in the repertoire of a Malay
story-teller. Perhaps the most well-known is the ‘trickster’ motif in
the tales of Sang Kanchil, the mouse-deer. Tales centering around
a wily animal character are perhaps the most popular animal tales
in the folklore of the world: Sang Kanchil of the Malay folk-tales is
a counterpart of the famous animal characters like the rabbit and
the fox of the Western and American traditions. So well-known is
this character Sang Kancil that amongst Malays it symbolises
people who, duminitive in stature, display extraordinary sharpness of
mind. A host of other animals also feature in the animal tales of the
Malays, but none is more popular than Sang Kanchil.
There are many other types of tales which are shorter and per-
haps which are not entirely for the purpose of entertainment, but
rather they reflect the way of thinking of the simple folks or reflect
the remnants of past beliefs. There are the tales of origin which
explain the origin of the world or the origin of mankind. At one
time in the past they were the components of the religious system
of the people, but now they form part of the folklore of the people.
Aetiological tales are tales which explain certain phenomena in
nature; for example, why a tiger has stripes, or why a certain rock
is cleft in the centre, or why the gum of the angsana tree is red.
Why the python is not poisonous, for example, is explained in the
story of how the python, which at one time was poisonous, vomit-
ted its poison into the sea because it was outwitted by a prince.
And the poison was then swallowed by the sea snake: that is why
the python is no longer poisonous while the sea-snake is.
Thus, Malay folk narratives are not different from the folktales
of other peoples in the world. They represent a rich literary heritage
from the past which connot be simply ignored either by the scholar
of Malay literature or by the practising Malay writers of the pre-
sent generation. To the latter, the traditional oral tales provide
ready-made symbolism, both in content as well as in language,
which can be recreated into a new idiom in literary expression.

The Epic Literature

Epics and romances which must have been derived from the In-
dian civilisation or from the period of Indian cultural influence con-
tinued to from a part of the literary tradition of the Malays after
they had accepted Islam. According to Sejarah Melayu or the
Malay Annals,. which is believed to have been first written in the

24
period of Muslim Malacca Sultanate, when the famous hero Hang
Tuah talked of his prowess. he liked tc~be compared to Lak-
samana, Rama’s brother in the great Indian epic of Ramayana.
Thus the name of Laksamana stuck to Hang Tuah; and from that
time on, Laksamana came to be the Malay term for “admiral of the
fleet”. There are many other instances where the Ramayana had
been a source of inspiration to Malay literature as well as tc~Malay
life generally. Episodes and motifs from that great epic are to be
found in many Malay works and folktales. In Hikayat Acheh which
tells the story of the Achinese King, Iskandar Muda, who reigned
during the earlier part of the 17th century, an episode in the Rama-
yana is used as a comparison to the mythical origin of the Sultanate
of Acheh. In Malay wair and pantun, the two forms of traditional
Malay poetry, it is not unusual to find the poet invoking the charac-
ters found in the Ramayana. So well-known is the story of Rama
among the Malays that even today, Rama and Sita are generally
regarded as the epitome of beauty and the example of faith and
love. Magical incantations recited by the pawang and bomoh
(village specialist in magic and folklore) invoke the names of Rama
and Sita for such purposes as making one look appealing to the
opposite sex. Spells which are supposed to endow one with martial
skills also invoke the name of Laksamana. A circle invested with
occult power by a pawang to protect those inside it is called the
‘~Circleof Laksamana”. This is reminiscent of the episode in the
Ramayana when Laksamana attempts to protect Sita from Rawana.
It is safe to say that the epic has greater meaning in Malay culture
than just literary.
Besides the Ramayana which has given Malay literature one of
its oldest known written texts, Hikayat Sen Rama, the great epic
Mahabarata too has given rise to Malay works such as Hikayat
Pandawa Jaya, Hikayat Pandawa Lima (stories of the war between
the pandawas and the koravas), Hikayat Sang Boma and Hikayat
Sang Samba (the story of Bhima, the son of Bhumi, the Earth).
There is a strong probability that these works were derived from
Javanese literature, a literature rich and well endowed with classi-
cal works. ‘Hikayat Sang Boma, for example, could have been
derived from the Bhamakavya of the Javanese literature and so
also the various hikayat of the pandawas. Perhaps the appeal of
the epic is universal. The heroic deeds of the characters would
always fire the imagination of man. But as far as the epic stories of
Rama, the pandawas or Sang Boma are concerned, they fit into the
picture of the Malay royal court in the past. A king leading his

25
army into battle, the unstinted loyalty of the warriors towards their
king, the heroic feats of the king himself and his warriors would be
an inspiration to the court and its retinue. The Malay versions of
the epics however is in prose. But the poetic beauty of the epics is
still to be seen in the description of scenes depicting the grandeur
of royal courts, the army arrayed for battles or the gods and
demigods of the Indian pantheon locked in mortal combat, using
weapons with super-natural power.
The popularity of the epic of Rama an& the other Indian epics
was undoubtedly looked upon with concern by the propagators of
the new religion Islam. In fact, a religious work written by a Guje-
rati Muslim theologian in the service of the Sultan of Acheh in the
early seventeeth century condemned the Hikayat Serf Rama as
heretical. Sri Richard Winstedt can not be far wrong when he said,
“The first task of the (Muslim) missionaries was to substitute for
the Hindu epic tales of the heroes of Islam...” Legends of
heroes in Muslim garb are perhaps the earliest of the literature
brought in with the advent of the new religion. Mythic narratives
which account for the origin of the Malacca Sultanate draw quite
extensively from the Muslim legend of Alexander the Great (Iskan-
dar Dzulkamnain). This dynastic myth which traces the ancestors of
the kings of Malacca to Alexander the Great was later taken up by
other Malay Sultanates which can trace their descent from the Sul-
tans of Malacca.
Islam had come to the Malay world not from its birthplace
Arabia, but from Moslem-India which had by then absorbed the
cultural traditions of Moslem-Persia. Thus, when Islam finally
readied the shores of the Malay Archipelago, it did not come only
as a new religious faith, but it brought with it the rich culture of the
Indo-Persian traditions. One of the types of literature thus
brought was the heroic legend — legend of heroes drawn not only
from the history of Islamic territorial expansion but from traditions
dating to pre-Islamic period. The legend of Alexander is an exam-
ple. Called Iskandar Dzulkarnain, Alexander is given a Muslim
colouring. In the Malay version of this legend, Hikayat Iskandan
Dzulkarnain Alexander is portrayed as a propagator of Islam and
,

a king who conquers the world “from where the sun rises to where
the surrsets”. Alexander’s adventure over the surface of the earth
is basically little different from the adventures of the heroes in the
Indian epics: Alexander is made to fight the giants and other
supernatural beings, a fact quite familiar to the heroes of classical
Malay literature. But Hikayat Iskandan Dzulkannain also serves the
royal Malay court in a different way. It also expounds the ethical

26
code of kingship with Islamic bias. For example: at one time when
Alexander was drunk with the spoils of his world conquest, he
was chastised and put on the right path as a just king by the ubi-
quitous prophet, Nabi Khidir, who appears again and again in
various Malay hikayat. In this way, Alexander was made to be an
example for all good kings to follow. This code of conduct is further
stressed in later works of a more theological character. Thus the Is-
lamic legend provided new meanings to an existing institution,
that is kingship in Malay society.
According to Sejarah Melayu, on the eve of the Portuguese at-
tack on Malacca, the warriors of Malacca requested from Sultan
Ahmad, the last king of Malacca the Hikayat Muhammad Hana-
fiah, so they could be inspired by Muhammad Hanafiah in facing
the Portuguese the next day. Sultan Ahmad proposed to give them
Hfkayat Amir Hamzah instead, saying: I’d give the
story of Muhammad Hanafiah, but I fear they will not be as brave
as he: if they are like Amir Hamzah it will do, so I give
the story of Hamzah”. But the warriors got Hikayat Mu-
harntmad Hanafiah in the end. And judging from the story of the
battle as related by the author of Sejarah Melayu, the warriors of
Malacca fought their adversaries like the heroes in the two
hikayat.
These two hikayat are further examples of the heroic legends
brought with the advent of the new religion Islam. Amir l-lamzah is
actually a Persian hero belonging to pre-Islamic period while
Muhammad Hanafiah can be considered.a hero within the history
of Islam. But whether the heroes were pre-Islamic or not, it did not
matter for they had been introduced to the readers of the Malay
hikayat as heroes of Islam. However, the heroes of Islam did not
entirely replace the heroes of the Indian epics in their popularity.
In fact, the heroes continued to live side by side in the traditional
Malay milieu.
Although the epics of Rama, Amir Hamzah or Muhammad Ha-
nafiah are well-known to the Malays, none is more cherished than
the indigenous epic, Hikayat Hang Tuah, because it is an epic born
out of the golden age of the Malay history, the glorious period of
the Malacca Sultanate in the fourteenth century. Hang Tuah is the
Malay national hero of the classical period, because he is the
embodiment of traditional Malay values which, however, are being
questioned today by the younger generation. The epic of Hang
Tuah is made up of not only the episodes which relate his prowess
in battles against his country’s enemies or his adventures as emis-
sary of his king to foreign countries as far as Constantinople, but
also of elements suggestive of his undivided allegiance and loyalty

27
to his feudal master. In the famous episode which has been reenac-
ted over and over again in contemporary Malay dramatic plays, we
find Hang Tuah fighting his closest friend, Hang Jebat, in order to
redeem his Sultan’s honour, even after the Sultan had treated him
unfairly. The tragic episode is so well-known In classical Malay
literature that if Hang Tuah is symbolic of the traditional feudalis-
tic values, Hang Jebat is, on the other hand, symbolic of rebellion
against established order. It is not surprising that it is in Hang
Jebat that the younger generation of Malays today have found a
new symbolism: that is one representing change as against conser-
vatism. So the episode itself can be interpreted as one portraying a
conflict of values in Malay society. But as the epic was serving thern
values prevailing at the time, it was 1—lang Tuah who triumphed
over Hang Jebat. The emphasis of the hikayat, besides the ques-
tion of socio-cultural values, is on the heroic deeds of Hang Tuah
as an indigenous person. Perhaps this is the one factor which
makes it the most significant product of classical Malay literature.

The Sejarah or Histories

Historical writing to the Malays in the past was not meant only
to be a recording of events, but also a form of literary art. Thus the
tradifional Malay historiography is somewhat different from his-
torical writing today. The Malay histories or sejarah consist of
dynastic chronicles of the different Sultanates or just recordings of
events which caught the fancy of the writer of the past.
The earlier historical writing are mostly concerned with the
events and happenings in the royal courts. The royal courts were in
fact the hub of the Malay society, which in the past was organised
into city-states. At the royal court, the scribe who was in the ser-
vice of the king would write little of the actual events, but more of
his interpretations of the events and happenings, concerning those
closely connected with the court. In some works, one gets the im-
pression that there was probably a revision made at the time of
writing on past events. Whenever a revision was made during the
reign of a particular ruler, the scribe would see to it that his patron
would overshadow his otherwise illustrious predecessors. These
earlier historical writings consist of works such as Hikayat Raja-
raja Pasai, which is an account of the Pasai dynasty, covering the
period from the beginning of the 14th century until the time when
the Majapahit forces of Java overran the country in about the mid-
dle of the same century, Sejarah Melayu or Sulalat us Salatin
-

which gives an account of the Sultanate of Malacca during the 15th

century, Misa Melayu which describes a period of the reign of the Perak

28
Sultans, Hikayat Acheh which relates the genealogy of the Sultanate of
Acheh, but devotes most of its pages to glorify Sultan Iskandar Muda of
Acheh and Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa which begins with the
legendary kings of pre-Islamic Kedah and ends with the Muslim rulers of
the state. Some are quite lengtb,i like the Silsilah Kutoi or the Hikayat
Raja-raja Banjar dan Koto Ringin, which describes the history of some
states in Borneo, but others are fragmentary like the histories of the
Sultanate of Langkat in Sumatera or those of Pahang and Trengganu.
These fragmentaryworks usually deal with certain events and do not give
a good picture of the history of the state in question. So itis to the lengtby
works like Hikayat Raja-raja Pasai, Sejarah Melayu and Hikayat Acheh
that we turn to ifwe want to have an idea of the Malay histonograpby of
the past
The most common feature of the Malay historiography is the
genealogy of the dynasty traced to its origin. Usually the origin of a
dynasty is shrouded in mythologies involving mythic kings of the
past. The genealogy of the Malacca kings, as has been said above,
is traced in Sejarah Melayu to Iskandar Dzulkarnain or Alexander
the Great. In fact, Sejarah Melayu begins with a lenghty account
of the ancestors of the kings of Malacca. While Alexander was on
his journey, he married the daughter of a great Hindu King, Raja
Khida Hindi, and it was from this matrimonial alliance that the
ancestor of the kings of Malacca came about. This ancestor, Sang
Sapurba, landed on a Mount Siguntang Mahameru in Palembang
from an undersea kingdom. When he landed the padi on Mount Si-
guntang turned into gold and the stalks turned into silver. Such
was the sign of greatness of the ancestor of Malacca Kings. In Hi-
kayat Raja-raja Pasai, in Hikayat Acheh or in Hikayat Merong
Mahawangsa, we get the same characteristic. The origin of the Pa-
sai dynasty, for example, is traced to the alliance between a prince
who was carried about on the head of an elephant and a princess
who was found in a bamboo stalk. Somewhat similar is the ances-
torship of the sultans of Acheh; and in the case of the kings of
Kedah, their ancestry is traced to king Merong Mahawangsa who
managed to reconcile the prince of Rome and the princess of Chi-
na, representing the West and the East, after the great bird Ga-
ruda, had put them asunder.
These are undoubtedly legends, and in some cases well-known
legends in Indian literature. The legend of the bamboo princess is
quite well-known in southeast Asia, and the legend of the Elephant
prince, usually called the tale of the “Sagacious Elephant,” is
found in Kantha Sanit Sagara of the Indian literature. But the
mythological origin of the dynasties in the Malay histories had

29
a purpose. These dynastic myths give an aura of divinity to
the Sultanate. The rakyat (subject) was thus imbued with a sense
of respect and worship towards his king. In Sejarah Melayu
this is further stressed in stories describing the divine power of the
Malacca Sultans. The possession of this divine power, which is the
prerogative of the monarch alone, is called ‘daulat’ in Malay, and
th~curse for going against is called ‘tulah’. Thus, for example,
according to Sejarah Melayu when the Emperor of China suffered
from a skin disease, he was told by his Mandarin, “Your High-
ness, the cause (of the disease) is that the Raja of Malacca sent you
his obeisance Your Highness must drink the water used by
the Raja of Malacca for washing his feet or this sickness that
afflicts Your Highness will not be cured Such is the man-
ner in which the writer of the Sejarah Melayu portrays the divinity
of his master. And Sejarah Melayu also stresses on the loyalty of
the rakyat in serving his sultan. Time and again the cry that “it is
not in the character of the Malay rakyat to rebel against his king”
echoes in the stories of Sejarah Melayu and the other Malay
histories.
The histories also serve the pride of the city-states. Hikayat Raja
raja Pasai, for example, tells how the great hero of Pasai, crown
prince Ibrahim Bapa, scared off two warriors from India who came
sjloiling for a fight at the court of Pasai. In Hikayat Acheh, when
Iskandar Muda was still a boy, he put to shame the challenger
from Portugal in horse riding and challengers from other countries
in matches of weaponery skill. And it is again in Sejarah Melayu
that such things are depicted more vividly. In Sejarah Melayu, not
only the king, who was sup~osedto be the overlord of the other
Malay kingdoms, but the ‘gentlemen’ of Malacca as well were
above any outsider in physical contests or in battles of wit. It is his
skill in portraying all this that we admire the writer of Sejarah Me-
layu as a literary artist rather than a historian or a chronicler.
Then, there is another type of histories which became quite
popular in the 18th and the 19th centuries. Unlike the dynastic his-
tories, the latter type reflects a truly literary effort because it is
usually written in verse, usually the syair form. There is at least
one known text, published by WE. Maxwell, which is in another
verse form called pantun berkait. These syairs relate events which
must have taken place during the life time of the poet. The one in
pantun berkait which has just been mentioned records the event of
Raja Haji’s attack on the Dutch in Malacca in the 18th century.
Judging from its tone, it must have been written by a Malacca
Malay with Dutch sympathies. Belonging to this category are such

30
works as Syair Perang Makasar which records Speelman’s attack
on Macassar in 1666 AD., Syair Perang Banjarmasin which des-
cribes the war in Banjarmasin (South Borneo) between 1858 AD.
and 1863 AD and Syair Inggeris Menyerang Kota which tells of
the English occupation of west Java in 1811, and in which Raffles
is referred in the same way as a Sultan in usually referred to by the
word ‘baginda’. It would appear that only such events as wars and
battles caught the imagination of the poets; but the collection of
this type of literature reveals a myriad of events which had given
the Malay poet of the past an inspiration to show his poetic skill,
from events such as a Governor-General’s party at his palace to the
wedding of a Kapitan China.

Islamic Religious Literature

The royal Malay courts in the past did not only maintain scribes
to compose histories and romances but also, during the Islamic
period, had in their employ theologians who acted as spiritual
advisers to the Sultans. In Sejarah Melayu, for example, we get
accounts of the theologians from the “West” coming to Malacca to
advise on or to teach matters concerning the new religion. And
according to Sejarah Melayu too, it was a favourite sport of Sultan
Mahmud of Malacca to tease the theologians at the court of Pasai
by sending missions across the Straits of Malacca to pose them
with tricky questions on theology and Sufi thoughts. Having theo-
logians at royal courts as spiritual advisers who also engaged in
literary writing was by no means an Islamic innovation. It was an
extension of an institution founded in the Hindu-Malay courts of
the pre-Islamic days, as was clearly seen in the courts of Javanese
Kings.
When Malacca was conquered by the Portuguese, cultural lea-
dership in the Malay world went over to Acheh, which by the se-
cond half of the 16th century was an up and rising kingdom. A
stream of theologians from places like Gujerat began to flow toward
Acheh. It is the writings of those theologians serving the court of
Acheh which enable us today to know of yet another type of writing
belonging to classical Malay literature. Perhaps, the most celebra-
ted theologian of this period was Sheikh Nuruddin Al-Raniri, a
Gujerati, who arrived in Acheh in 1637 A.D. A prolific writer, he
wrote and translated a great number of works dealing with Isla-
mic history, theology, and jurisprudence. His best knowm work is
the one called Bustan-us-Salat,n (The Garden of Kings) which was

31
written in 1638. This book does not only deal with the subject of
religion, but it is also meant to be a guide or example on good and
just kingship. The third chapter, for example, expounds the ethical
code of kingship which includes the moral duty of kings towards
their subjects and the religious duty of the kings towards God.
Another work of similar style was Taj-us-Salatin (The Crown of
Kings), which must have been derived from Persian sources.
The period of Achinese supremacy was also a period when mys-
ticism or sufism as a form of theological and philosophical thinking
in Islam came to be very popular. In this particular field, it was the
local people who came to the fore as authors of sufistic writings.
Going through their works, we come across names like Hanizah of
Barus, Shamsuddin of Pasai, Abdul Rauf of Singkel, Abdul Samad
of Palembang and many others. At one time some of the works
were considered heretical by the theologians at the Achinese court
so they were ordered to be burnt. The most famous of the Sufis of
the period was Hamzah Fansuri, the “poet-laureate” of Acheh.
Although some of his works were written in prose, it was in verse
form or syair that he proved himself to be a great writer. His
numerous syair verses present his mystic thinking in beautiful
imageries. At the time when the greatness of Malacca was just a
memory and at the time when the inroads made by the Westerners
wt~regathering momentum, it was at the court of Acheh that
Islamic religious thoughts and writing flourished.
With Islam also came the stories of the prophets belonging to
the Islamic tradition. Some of the stories antedate Islam itself, but
they came to the Malays as part of the Islamic tradition. The story
of Joseph, known in Malay as Hikayat Nabi Yunuf, for example, is
one of the oldest known texts in Malay literature. It is known to
have been in existence as early as 1604 AD. The spread of Islam
among the Malays brought along with it not only works of theology
and Sufi thought from the Moslem lands to the north, but also
popular works for easy propagation of the new faith. A popular
form of religious propagation is to be seen in the naratives about
the Holy Prophet Muhammad. These stories tell of the miracles by
the Holy Prophet, thus emphasizing his special powers (mu’jizat).
Works like Hikayat Mujizat Nabi, Hikayat Nabi Bercukur, Hika-
yat Bulan Berbelah and Hikayat Nabi Wafat are some of the many
meant to convince the followers, not through strict dogmatic
teachings. but through popular appeal. It is usual to find exhorta-
tions to read or listen to these works because reading or listening
to them would have the reward equal to circumambulating the

32
Kaabah thirty times. Belonging to the same category are works on
magic and medicine derived from popular Islamic sources, most
probably Persian in origin. Two examples of these are Kitab Taj-
ul-Muluk and Kitab Mujarrabat Melayu which can still be obtained
today in Malay bookshops.
The tradition of writing, copying, translating and editing with
commentaries works on the Islamic religion is perhaps one of the
most important traditions in classical Malay literature. In the pe-
riod before the middle of the nineteenth century, the religious
texts, which are known as kito.b in Malay, existed mainly in manu-
script form. The kitabs were copied either by scribes in the employ
of the royalties and ruling chiefs or by students in pondok schools
which were, until recently, the main centres of religious learning
among the Malays. Thus works on Muslim theology, jurispru-
dence, philosophy and history can be regarded as the main intel-
lectual expression in classical Malay literature. It is significant to
note that the introduction of the printing press and the establish-
meht of publishing houses in the nineteenth century first served
the market for religious literature rather than other types of
writings. Even in the first half of the twentieth century, a greater
portion of the Malay book market was confined to works on every
aspect of the Islamic religion.

The Romances
The classical antecedents of today’s modern Malay novels are
the romances or romantic hikayat. Although most of the romances
deal with adventures of kings, princes, sea-captains (nakhoda) and
merchants (khoja), some belong to what we may call moral stories.
Unlike the folk-romances of the oral tradition which display much
indigenous originality, most of the romances which have come
down to us in manuscripts form indicate foreign inspiration or
origin. The most indigenous to the Malay area, and the most popu-
lar, are the Javanesepanji cycle. The basic story of the cycle revol-
ves around the love between a prince, Radin Inu Kartapati of the
kingdom of Kuripan, and a princess, Galuh Chandera Kirana
of the kingdom of Daha. The cycle is made up of the adventures of
Radin mu Kartapati who is in search of his betrothed, Chandera
Kirana, and those of Chandera Kirana herself in the disguise of a
male dancer known as Panji Semirang. There are many other
names. Some of these variants are also known by other names such
as Hikayat Chekel Waneng Pati, Hikayat Panji Vv~1a Kesuma,
Hikayat Raja Kuripan, Hikayat Panji Kuda Semirang, Hikayat

33
Charang Kulina and many others. Some of the variants were also
rendered into syair form as narrative poetry, such as Shair Panji
Semirang and Shair Ken Tambuhan.
The romances derived from the Indian sources still retain their
original names like Hikayat Marakarma, Hikayat Jaya Langkara
and Hikayat Indera Putera The local story-tellers who rendered
these stories into Malay had been quite free with their renditions
that the ultimate products have been transformed into tales
quite distinguishable from the original ones. It is a common feature
to find the episodes of the different romances being juxtaposed
among themselves. Some of the works even have alternative names;
thus Hikayat Marakarma is also known as Hikayat Ahmad
Muhammad. In the process of rendering the foreign derived
romances into Malay, it is possible to say that the local writers had
been recreating these works into Malay romantic hikayaL This is
especially true in cases where the story is recomposed in verse or syair
thus transforming a prose hikayat into a narrative poem.
Some of the original sources of these hikayat are not easy to
trace. Partly this is due to the fact that there had been an intermix-
ture of Indian, Arabic and Persian literary traditions even before
the narratives came to be introduced to the Malay world. Tales like
Hikayat Bayan Budiman and Hikayat Kalilah wa Daminah, which
are actually cycle-stories emphasising morals and good-conduct,
had been circulating in many variants in India, Persia and Arabia.
It would be interesting to study the origins of the hundreds of
Malay romances, but it would not be as interesting as the study of
the adaptation of these narratives into Malay hikayat and what
literary and socio-cultural values have been emphasised in their
transformation. -It is in the romantic hikayat that we find the cry-
stallisation of Malay prose literary conventions: the stylistic fea-
tures, plot structures and also the themes.
It is clear that romances like Hikayat Lang-Lang Buana, Hikayat
GuI Bakawali, Hikayat isma Yatim, Hikayat Bakhtiar, Hikayat
Bustomam and numerous others are so well-known that they pro-
vide ready-made images and comparisons as to human conduct
and behaviour, concept of beauty and magnificence, human
strength and frailties and so on. The romances are not based on
the kind of reality that we find in a modern novel for they often
deal with the marvellous and the wondrous; but this is to be expec-
ted for they were meant primarily to entertain. What differentiates
the classical Malay romantic hikayat from the modern novel there-

34
fore, is the fact that the former contains less plausibilities and pro-
babilities than the latter in terms of the stories they tell. It is inte-
resting to note that the sea-captian (nakhoda) and the merchant
(Khoja) are the main characters of the romances besides the usual
kings and princes. Perhaps this is because of the fact that these
two classes of people almost shared the social status of kings and
princes, and such social distance made it possible for them to be
part of the imaginative world not readily accessible in real life to
ordinary people, except only in romances.
Of all the literary genres, the romantic hikoyat has been sadly
neglected by scholars. Very little has been said about them, except
to refer to their diverse origins. Even their contribution to Malay
literary styles, technical concepts of plot structure, c’haracter deve-
lopment and other literary aspects has never been looked into.
Equally important is the study of the romantic hikayat as a carrier
of social values, ethical as well as aesthetical, and world-view.

Classical Poetic Forms

Of classical Malay poetry, perhaps the most well-known is the
pantun. A pantun is a quatrain with the rhyming scheme of
a-b-a-b or even a-a-a-a. For example:

Pulau Pandan jauh ke tengah,

Dl balik Pulau Angsa Dua,
Hancur badan dikandung tonah,
Budi yang balk dikenang juga.

There is a peculiarity of the pantun which has been the subject of

an unending discussion amongst scholars of Malay. This concerns
the connection between the first two lines and the last two lines of
the quatrain. Some scholars maintain that the first two lines are
suggestive of the message conveyed in the last two; but others are
of the opinion that there is no relevance of the first two lines to the
message conveyed by the last two except to provide the rhyming
scheme. It would be a long discourse to go into such discussion;
but suffice it to say that the most important part of the pantun is
the last two lines which convey the actual message.
Essentially, pantun is folk-poetry; it is meant to be recited orally
or sung aloud. The pantun, it is to be observed is the basis of
,

most Malay folk-songs, like the popular “Rasa Sayang Eh” or the
“Dondang Sayang” of Malacca. It stresses much on assonance,
rhyme and cadence on the one hand, and on the appropriateness of

35
the message to the occasion in which it is recited on the other.
There are well-known “stock-pantuns” which are quoted at appro-
priate accasions for relevant purposes. Such pantuns function
more like proverbs. For example, when someone wishes to show
gratefulness, he merely recites the follcxving pantun:

Pisang emas dibawa belayar,

Masak sebiji di atas peti,
Hutong emas boleh dibayar,
Hutong budi dibawa mati.

The last two lines which convey the actual message say:

If gold is owed, it can be repaid,

But if it is gratitude, it is carried to the grave.

But being folk-poetry, the pantun can be freely composed as one

likes, but the form has to be adhered to. Anyone can compose a
pantun or recite it as he likes. It can also fit into any occasion be-
cause the message conveyed by a pantun can be a universal truth
as usually conveyed in ‘stock-pantun” or it can be a personal
,

message of the reciter. The massage can be anything from a reflec-

tion of an irony of fate in life to an expression of ardent love, or
from aserious note of advice to a light-hearted teasing. And in conveying
these messages, the pantun is not always straight-forward, but is usually
disguised in appropriate imageries.
For example, to express an irreconcilable parting, we have:

Orang be!ayar lautan ambung,

Patoh tiang timpa kemudi,
Putus benang boleh disambung,
Patoh arang sudah sekali.
The message conveyed by the last two lines is:
A break in thread can be rejoined.
But a break in charcoal, it is final.

Or, to express lost love, we have:

Sungguh dalam Sungai Sedayu,
Tempat raja pergi bermain,

36
 Bagaimana bunga tok Iayu,
Embun jatuh di tempat lain.

The message is:

Why shouldn’t the flower wither,

The dew falls on another.

Or, the lamentation of one’s fate in not being able to get what one
desires, we have a well-known stock-pantun which says:

Asap api gulung gemulung,

Anak buaya terlampai-lampai,
Hajat hati nak peluk gunung,
Apakan daya tangan tok sampai.

And the message reads:

The intention is to embrace a mountain,

But what can I do, my arms are not long enough.

Many scholars have tried to discuss the origin of the pantun:

some have traced the pantun form to simpler forms of folk-ditties
and jingles. R.O. Winstedt,1 for example, has suggested that it is
from simple riddles based on sound suggestions that the pantun
has evolved into a comparatively more sophisticated form. An
example of this “simple form”, which has been erroneously refer-
red to as a “two-line pantun” by Winstedt, is to be seen in the
following:

pinggan tak retak. nasi tak dingin

engkau tak hendak, aku tak ingin.

when translated, it means:

The plate is not cracked, nor the rice cold,

If you don’t feel like it, neither do I.

Others have suggested that the origin can be traced to ‘a peculiar
type of language usage. It is a kind of euphemism, where an idea is

37
not expressed directly but by sound suggestion. For example, the
word “ribu” which means “thousand” is conveyed by a word with
almost similar sound “riwu”, which is a kind of fern. Or, as practi-
sed by people in some parts of Sumatera, a bridegroom gives to his
bride a fish called “belanak”, but all the time meaning “ber-
anak”, which means “to bear children”. It appears that the prin-
ciple of “sympathetic magic” prevails in the use of language illus-
trated here. The relationship between language and magical
notions is found in most cultures, but to say that the origin of
pantun lies in the magical use of words needs further investiga-
tion.
The so~calledtwo-line pantun and the full four-line pantun, however
have the usual characteristics to be found in folk or oral poetry: the
simple rhyming scheme of the basic structure; cadence which suits oral
recitation; mnemonic device in the first part being formulaic expression;
rich but simple imageries; and their proverb-like function. Bearing this
fact in mind, it would not be far-fetched to say that there is no such thing
as the two-line pantun being the forerunner of the four-line pantun; all
the forms happen to be oral or folk-poetry.
Another form of traditional Malay poetry is the syair. Although
the word suggests that it is of Arabic origin, which in the original
has also some connection with poetry or singing, the Malay verse
form which goes by the name Syair is somewhat different form the
Arabic verse. Syair in Malay poetry means a long poem made up ot
four-line stanzas or quatrains. Unlike the pantun form, each stanza
of the syair is rhymed a-a-a-a; for example:
Dengarlah kesah suatu niwayat,
Raja di desa negeri Kembayat,
Dikarang fakir dijadikan hikayat,
Dibuatkan syair serto berniaL
Whereas the pantun is complete in a quatrain, the syair conveys a
continuous idea from one stanza to the next. In each stanza there is
a unity of idea from the first line to the last line, and the idea is
continued into the following stanzas. Thus the syair can be a narra-
tive poem, a didactic poem, or a poem used to convey ideas on
philosophy or religion, or even one to describe a historical event.
The syair verse which is quoted above is an introduction to a well-
known syair narrative called Syair Bidasari. Old Malay literature
abounds in syair narratives; it is not uncommon to find two ver-
sions of a story, one in prose form which has been referred to as

38
the romantic hikayat and the other in syair form.
The syair is a literary effort of an individual poet; and as such,
unlike the pantun, it belongs to the written tradition. But it is per-
haps more appropriate to say that it is partly-written and partly-
oral in character because the syair is meant to be recited aloud to a
certain tune. This is especially true in the past when literacy was a
luxury and a privilege afforded only by a few.
The syair is known to have been written as early as the 17th cen-
tury. This is evident from some of the manuscripts containing the
syair which have survived to this day. Hamzah Fansuri’s syair are
among the earliest known. As a mystic, he used the ~yair to put
forth his Sufi thoughts as can be seen in the following examples.
Satukan hangat dan dingin,
lInggalkan loba dan ingin,
Hancur hendak seperti hIm,
Mangkanya dapat kerjanya hicin.
Sir Richards Winstedt had attempted to translate the stanza into
English in a poetic way:
When heat and cold have become the same,
with greed and desire each an idle name,
and yourself is the wax resolved in the flame,
and smooth in the end you’ll find life’s game.
The following is another example of Harnzah Fansuri’s style: in
this particular stanza, which is quite simple in form, the mystic
poet relates his experience in “seeking God”.
Hamzah Fansuni di dalam Mekah,
Mencari Tuhan di Baib..il Kaabah,
Dan Barus ke Kudus ten!alu payah,
Akhimya dapat di dalam rumah.
When translated, it would mean:
Hamzah Fansuri in Mecca,
Looking for God in Kaaba,
From Barus (his birth place) to Purity (the pinnacle of mystic
experience) is very difficult,
But finally finding Him at home (meaning the poet himself).
The syair has been for a long time a popular form of composing
long poems in Malay. It has been almost the sole vehicle for con-
veying narratives or continuous idea in poetry. But today, the syair

39
is not a popular poetic expression anymore as young writers prefer
the blank-verse called the sajak. But in the period before the out-
break of the Second World War, the syair was a common feature in
Malay newspapers and popular literature.
Other forms of traditional Malay poetry include the irregular
verse forms called the seboka and the gurindam. There is no sharp
distinction between the two structures: but the content of the
seloka is usually of a lighter vein, whereas the gurindam is usually
didactic in nature. The advent of Islam also introduced into the
world of Malay literature Persian verse forms like the masnawi,
rubal and ghazal, but they are very rare and not widely known,
except in works translated from Persian sources.

Notes
1. Winstedt R.O. A Histoi~of Classical Malay Literature, Oxford Univ. Press:
Kuala Lumpur. 1960.

40
3
RAJA ALl HAJI OF RIAU:
A FIGURE OF TRANSITION OR THE LAST OF
THE CLASSICAL PUJANGGAS?

It is undeniable that the nineteenth century was the watershed

that divided the socio-cultural history of the Malay world. Before
the nineteenth century belonged the classical period which was
characterised not so much by the external influences of Indian, and
later, Islamic civilization, but by, to my thinking, the social struc-
ture and the cultural values and expressions of the indigenous civi-
lizations. For nearly two thousand years the socia’ structure was
generally characterised by “great-little traditions” of the city-
states on the one hand and the more homogeneous but relatively
isolated socio-political organizations of the inhabitants of the inte-
rior.1 But by the nineteenth century, the polity of the city-states
began to crumble and in its place we find the encroachment of the
“colonial society”. While certain features of the traditional society
were retained, such as the nominal political structure of the fe’udal
courts or the traditional economic pursuits of the peasantry, it was
beyond doubt that the twentieth century saw the transformation of
the indigenous society into one much imbued by western influen-
ces and domination which ultimately culminated in the founding of
independent states whose socio-pilitical structures show little ves-
tiges of the traditional polity, although in some respects, certain
traditional elements like the arts or philosophy (e.g. the concept of
mesyua~ ah and gotong-royong) were revived and blended into the
modern structure. The installation of the Yang Di-Pertua Agong in

41
 Malaysia, for example, used traditional symbolism in legitimising
an entirely new and western inspired institution, the constitu-
tional monarchy.
In the history of Malay writing, the nineteenth century too was
the dividing line. While it is true that a really meaningful change
did not materialise until the 1920’s and 1930’s when the seeds of
the present-day nx’els, short-stories and sajak were shown,2 the
transformation of the traditional style and approach into certain
new traits was already to be seen in the nineteenth century. A
great deal has been written about Abdull~has the innovator of
Malay writing in the 19th century. He has been variously descri-
bed as the “father”of modern Malay literature, the first Malay
journalist, a chronicler or even a historian. The focus has so far
been on the innovative features of Abdu!lah’s writing. His Hikayat
Abdullah and Kisah Pelayaran Abdullah are regarded as the fore-
runner of modern prose because in them one finds the departure
from the classical style, not so much in the style of language but
more in the attitude towards and the way he sees in his subject
matters. The Hikayat and the Kisah are not yet the modern short-
stories or novels, but they represent a different kind of literary
genre from those found in the classical literature. They project a
different world-view and ethos. Unlike the traditional history or
sejarah, which the Hikayat and the Kisah approximate in content,
both of Abdullah’s works present their subject-matter in a person-
al and critical manner. It is understandable that this should be so,
for while the histories were nurtured in the milieu of the traditional
society of the city-states, Abdullah’s works could have been pos-
sible only because he was a part of the embryonic colonial society
which the English East India Company was establishing in Pe-
nang, Malacca and Singapore in the 19th century. Another factor
which may have contributed to the kind of world-view and ethos
one finds in Abdullah’s works is the fact that the period was the
beginning of the technological and industrial age. Abdullah was
perceptive enough of the possible consequences the scientific and
technological inventions such as the steamship, cartography,
surgery, printing and others would bring to the world traditionally
dominated by superstitions and blind faith in the feudal values. It
was his close association with the Westerners and his praise of
them and their civilisation in his writing that earned him the title
“Abdullah Paderi” among his contemporaries and “Anglophille”
among later appraisers of his works.
What have not been dealt with, and dealt with justification, are

42
the traditional dispositions to be found in Abdullah’s writing.
Apart from the syair and pantun which he was fond of composing
or his familiarity with classical works, the way that he looked at the
world around him does not indicate that he was entirelywon overby the
new civilization which he realised was right at the doorstep of the
Malay world. He might have been impressed by the technology
and the orderly system of the English law and administration, but
he remained a traditional moralist based on the precepts and philo-
sophy of the Islamic humanistic ideas. It is without doubt that
there was a discrepancy between the much-publicised pratices of
the Malay feudal lords and the injunctions and exhortations of
such books on kingship as Tajus-Salatin or Bustan-us-Salatin,
where the emphases had been on just and humanitarian govern-
ment. The first fact has been often focussed upon by Western
scholars, and in this respect, Abdullah was no less critical of the
Malay feudal elite during his time. The ideals as expounded in the
books of law and statecraft are often regarded as useless docu-
ments. However, the same moral precepts are to be detected in the
histories like Sejarah Melayu or Hikayat Raja-Raja Pasai, where
just and able rulers are shown to be morally superior to the weak
and unjust. The ethos was not pronounced as such, but the impli-
cations were there. Abdullah, on the other hand, was expressedly
more critical, but he was striking the familiar chord when he criti-
cised the indulgent and indolent feudal princes, while praising
those who practised strain and judiciousness. The moralisirig
streak, therefore, is very much a traditional character of the Malay
classical writers or pujangga, and in this respect Abdullah was
continuing a tradition which has been enriched by the humanistic
teachings of Islam.
It is in the context of examining the transformation of classical
world-view and ethos in Malay writing that we have to consider
Raja All Haji of Riau. He was almost the contemporary of Abdul-
lah. Like Abdullah he also experienced and perceived the socio-
cultural change brought about by the advent of Western civilisa-
tion, although in his case it was the Dutch rather than the English
who introduced the new order of things. However, his works are
often looked upon as still bearing the hallmark of the classical tra-
ditions— the histories and the syair. But on closer scrutiny we will find
that while the foims are traditional, the views and values which are
manifested in those works also reveal a mind not quite consonant in
eveiy respect with the traditional world-view and ethos which had

43
produced such historical works as Sejarah Melayu, Hikayat Raja-Raja
Pasai or Merong Mahawangsa. Raja All Haji is better known as a
historian, and his contribution in this role, through his Tuhfat al-Nafis and
Silsilah Me!ayu Dan Bugis had been evaluated to some extent by the
historians.3
The contention here is that Raja Ali Haji was more than just a
historian in the modern sense: he was, perhaps more so than
Abdullah a pujangga of the old order. He was, in fact, the last of
the pujanggas. While the Malay Sultanates had continued to exist
in the different parts of the Malay world under the aegis of the
colonial powers, the figure of the pujangga was missing. The
pujangga was the figure of an intellectual in the classical setting:
he was not only a writer or a historian, but one who provided the
intellectual stimulation to the court he was serving. The intellectual
climate in Malacca and Pasai which was dominated by religious
polemics as described in Sejarah Me!ayu, or the contributions of
Sheikh Nuruddin Al-Ranin and Hamzah Fansun at the court of
Acheh, are some of the glimpses we get of the intellectual activi-
ties and influences in the past. Raja Ali Haji, through his works,
still shows the mark of the traditional pujangga of the old Malay
feudal court, but at the same time he also displays sensitivity to-
wards the new kind of world-view and ethos Besides the two
.

historical works, Tuhfat-al-Nafis and Silsilah Melayu dan

Bugis, he had left to posterity an assortment of poetic works,
syair, and gurindam, and two works on Malay language, Kitab
Pengetahuan Bahasa and Bustan-ul-Katibin There is also a
mention of a book on morals or proper conduct (adab) in his Kitab
Pengetahuan Bahasa (pg. 92).
Raja All Haji, whose real name is Raja Haji Ali bin Raja Haji
Ahmad, was a member of the Malay-Bugis royal house of Riau. He
was the grandson of Raja Haji, Marhum Teluk Ketapang, who died
attacking the Dutch in Malacca in 1784 A.D. His lineage is further
traced to Daing Chalak, one of the five Bugis warriors who
dominated the western part of the Malay world in the eighteenth
centuiy.4 It is not known eactly when Raja Ali Haji was born, but
by calculating the dates mentioned in Tuhfat-al-Nafis, it is most
probable that he was born in 1809 A.D. It is also not known exactly
when he died but it could be between 1869 and 1875 AD.5 Both
Raja All Haji and his father, as mentioned in the Tuhfat, were
senior officials in the sultanate of Riau during their times. Accord-
ing to him, the haj pilgrimage that his father, Raja Ahmad or Raja
Tua, made, and in which he also took part, was the first that the

44
Malay nobility from Riau performed. He has been described as
an author and religious expert. It is easy to see from his works that
he was not only knowledgeable in religious studies but well-
versed in Arabic too. His family background also shows up in his
works: while he was charitable towards the Malay side of his
family line,6 he was proud of his Bugis ancestry that despite
his protestations for objective truth in his Tuhfat and Silsilah,
the Bugis bias is very much in evidence.

It has been pointed out by Virginia Matheson that the Tuhfat

represents a synthesis and collation of works which are quite
identifiable,7 but is beyond doubt that Raja All Haji had not only
tooled it together into a meaningful whole as a history but had
embellished it with his own touch. The same can be said of the
Silsilah. Not only is it based on the “Kitab daripada tangan saudara
kami yang saleh yang kepercayaan dan iaiti.i Sayid Alsyarif Abdu!
Rahman Ibnu Said Alsyarif Kasim Sultan Pontianak bin Sayid Alsyarif
Abdul Rahman Al-Kadiri” and othersources which are also mentoined
in the Tuhfat,it is embellished with lengtby syairwhich reflects both his
skill and imaginative bent in poetry writing. So notwithstanding the fact
that the Tuhfat, and the Silsilah were based on other works, in their final
forms which have come to us, they must beregarded as the works of Raja
Ali Haji. The Tuhfat, and the works on which it is based, has been dealt
with already by Virginia Matheson, but the Silsilah has not attracted that
much attention. For example, a text published by the Al-Imam Press in
Singapore in Hijnah 1329, which contains some pen sketches of the old
palace of Sultan Sulaiman and sea-battles between Raja Kechik arid the
Bugis, has not been mentioned an~vhere!~

There is no other way to describe the Tuhfat, which should be

regarded as Raja All Haji’s magnum opus, except that it is a histo-
rical work But it is a historkal work not entirely in the traditional
Malay sense of history as represented by Sejarah Melayu, Hikayat
Raja-raja Pasai or Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa. The first feature
one notices which deviates from the traditional historiography is
the preponderance of dates. Although the use of dates is not
exceptional in the traditional historical writing for some of the
works that the author used carried dates, their use in the Tuhfat,
nevertheless, is significant, not so much because they are used,
but more so because they represent a new kind of world-view
with regard to the concept of time in Malay historiography. It is a
general feature of the traditional histories that there was an ab-

45
sence of dates. The referrence to any concept of time is done in
very vague manners such as “zaman dahulu kala” or at best ~Mtha
reference to the reign of particular rulers. There is definitely to be
detected a sense of chronology and corcern for the realationship
between event and time. So often in the Tuhfat Raja All Haji refers
to different time sequences according to the different sources that he
was using. Coupled with the element of time in historiographical
writing, we also find in the Tuhfat the use of different and varied
sources. According to Dr. Kratz, there were at least 20 known
works dealing with the various events during the time, some were
in the form of genealogies, others were in the form of chronicles,
but they were mainly confined to specific events.9 It is only in the
Tuhfat and the Silsilah that we find works aimed at providing a
comprehensive historical picture. Virginia Matheson has shown
that Raja Ali Haji must have used his source materials very skil-
fully, for he emphasised on chronology rather than location as the
central thread in his narration of events.’°This again reflects the
attitude and concept towards time in history, a fact not found in the
earlier histories. The Tuhfat and Silsilah however were traditional
histories in the sense that they were motivated by the author’s
sense of family duty to preserve for the posterity the “history’ of
his ancestors. This is comparable to .the introduction by Tun Sri
Lanang to the Sejarah Melayu, the writing of which was also
prompted by the acquisition of a “hikayat” from “Goa”.
The late A.H. Hill has described in the preface of his edition of
Hikayat Raja-Raja Pasai that the truth as conceived in the traditio-
nal Malay historiography was subjective truth rather than objec-
tive truth as espoused by the modern historian.” I have tried to
explain the phenomenon by showing that the Tuhfat contains the
least “mythical elements” compared to the earlier Malay histo-
ries, not so much because it represents a later point on a time-
scale in Malay historiographical writing, but rather because there
must have been a shift in the function of historical writing in Malay
society.’2 For example, it was no longer necessary for Raja Ali Haji
in the Tuhfat or the Silsi!ah to perpetuate the myth of semi-divinity
of the Malay rulers becau ~e of the already changing situation of
the time. It was during this time, that the Malay Sultanates, inclu-
ding the sultanate of Riau and Lingga had not only declined but
were at the mercy of the colonial powers. In fact the last pages of
the Tuhfat picture graphically the gradual decline of the Sultana-
tes and the ascending power of the Dutch and the English in the
19th century. As I have pointed out before, the mythic world-

46
view had given way to a. critical world-view and therefore the
history that one finds in the Tuhfat reflects a new world-view
although in content and form it still represents the traditional
genre. His evaluation of the source materials may not stand up to
the critical standards of present-day historians, but at least there
seems to be an attempt at objectivity as the following can testify:
Demikianlah tersebut di dalam sejarah yang sebelah Siak. Maka
sangatiah bersalahan dengan sejarah dan siarah yang di sebelah
barat pihak Johor Maka hal ito pun tiada aku berani
mengesahkan sejarah Siak, dan tiadapula aku berani mengatokan
ghalat sejarah dan siarah yang disebelah barat pihak Johor ito,
kerana keduanya ito pekerjaan yang telah lalu masanya beratus
tahun daripada masaku. Allah Suhhanahuwa Taala yang lebih
tahunya akan hakibatnya. Antoha.
It is difficult to deny the fact that Raja All Haji professed to be
objective in his approach. As I have observed before, his prayer
that his account of history would be spared of errors and mistakes
(Pada ha! mengharapi aku akan Allah Ta’ala yang mengampuni
daripada tersalah pada segala tawarikh dan perjalananriya: Ya
Tuhanku, perkenankan oleh Mu akan pintak hamba Mu) could
easily be the prayer of a modern historian. However, the difficulty
is, how to reconcile his professed stance with the fact that he was
almost blatantly biased towards the Bugis role in the events narr~-
ted in the Tuhfat or the Silsilah? As Virginia Matheson has pointed
out, Raja Ali Haji had been discriminative in the use of his sources,
choosing the accounts which gave the bias to the Bugis. over
others, and he might have even altered the Siak source which
3 The bias towards the
should be, logically speaking
author’s family lineage is alsoanti-Bugis.’
to be seen in Sejarah Melayu as
pointed by Winstedt when he suggested that the work tended to
put the Bendahara line in a better light.’4 Perhaps it is simply
human nature to favour one’s family line. But I am more inclined
to give it a sociological explanation in that traditional Malay his-
triography was a process of myth-making: to uphold the.legitimacy
of a ruling house or even tojustify the position of a ruling family. It
is in this respect that Raja Ali Haji was still a traditional Malay his-
torian where family honour and the question of legitimacy was the
uppermost consideration. In Both the, Tuhfat and the Silsilah, this
question is encapsulated in the long and protracted struggle
between the Bugis family and Raja Kechik of Siak.
The Tuhfat and the Silsilah, are to my mind motivated by Raja

47
All Haji’s familiar feeling and consideration. However the personal
views in his historical works are interesting. Describing the cha-
racter of Sultan Mahmud of Lingga until the time has was deposed
by the Dutch, for example, is a distinct exercise in objectivity in-
spite of the fact that the Sultan had close ties with him. Abdullah is
more poignant in portraying the pathetic figure of Sultan Hussein
Shah of Singapore when the Sultan found out what it was like to
lose his authority and sovereignty.’5 However, the main thing is
that both the authors axe quite perceptive of the actual meaning of
the incident: the passing of an old order into a new one and neither
of them apparently showed great personal loss. They described the
incidents rather philosophically- While Raja Ali Haji sometimes
intrudes into the narrative, he usually maintains his anonimity,
even if he mentions his own name.
While the events in both the Tuhfat and the Silsilah cover an
extensive time period as well as space, it is significant that Raja Ali
Haji paid a great deal of attention to Raja Kechik of Siak in the
Silsi!ah who among all the other personages was outstanding in
one respect, he was the thorn in the side of the Bugis hegemony in
the western Archipelago. The Bugis bias in him is clear, for inspite
of the impersonal and objective stance he takes in most part of his
works, his portrayal of Raja Kechik in the Silsilah where his lite-
rary inclinations are at their best, is very biased almost to a perso-
nal level.
While the Tuhfat summarises the protracted struggle between
Raja Kechik and the Bugis by listing the ten battles fought, the
Silsi!ah dwells quite at length on the subject. The historical signifi-
cance of the struggle between the two factions is pushed to the
background by the literary treatment of the events, especially
when they are embellished in the syair. The plight of the Johore
rulers was protrayed in a pathetic manner, showing their impo-
tence agaiRst Raja Kechik and subsequent equally pathetic
approach in getting the Bugis warriors to redeem their honour. But
more literary are the syair in the Si!silah which romanticise the
events, such as the Bugis warriors taking leave of their wives, the
futility of Raja Kechik’s warriors in facing Bugis military prowess,
the treacheries of Raja Kechik and the description of ceremonies
and feasts. The vestiges of the traditior~alhistorian being a literary
pujangga rather than a chronicler are therefore clearly seen here:
this trait of traditional approach to historiography vies with the
professed objectivity of the author. In fact, the literary inclinations

48
are even carried further to the extent that the author offers some
ribald humour in his syair.
In the traditional histories, even if the historicity of the events
are suspect, one can always get a glimpse into the nature of the
society and culture. Tuhfat al-Nafis is no exception. In fact it
shows deeper insight into the workings of the traditional social
fabric, while at the same time, especially in the last part of the
work, suggests the breaking up of the social order. Social stratifi-
cation in society is not to be seen only in status differentiation, but
even in the conduct of war. For example the rajas are allowed to
retreat in the face of defeat as to be seen in the remark made by
the Yang Di-Pertuan Muda. “Biarlah Raja Abdullah itu lepas kerana
segala raja-raja itu sedaulat. Apa boleh buat terkena dalam pepe-
rangan”~ It is undeniable that the protracated war between
the Bu,gis princes and Raja Kechik of Siak had many special fea-
tures inherent in it, but the relationship between the raja class
among themselves or the relationship between the rajas and their
followers are clearly reflected in the events narrated in the Tuhfat
or the Silsilah. Loyalty to the feudal master, especially at the suffer-
ing of the common people is no longer taken for granted as to be
found in the older sejarah. Such relationship draws the following
observation from the author: “Hura-hara antara orang-orang kecil
7 But the most per-
itu kerana tuan penghulu bersalah-salahan”.’
ceptive part with regard to the portrayal of Malay society and
culture is reserved for incidents of culture contact and the changing
political situation. The graphic description of old Batavia as the
author visited it brings into focus a new kind of world in the
Archipelago as compared to the royal court of Riau.’8 The enquiry
by the Dutch Admiral as to why Sultan Abaul Rahman of Lingga
shed tears at his installation is laconic: in a few words the age-old
Adat which should be taken for granted is suddenly brought into a
different light.’9 But more significant is the portrayal of the impo-
tence of the Malay power before the ever expanding powers of the
Dutch and the English. Both Abdullah and Raja Ali Haji dealt with
this theme. While Abdullah tended to blame the nobility for their
effete leadership and the masses for their ignorance and reluc-
tance to educate themselves, thus bringing into sharp focus the
changing situation confronting the Malay society, Raja Ali Haji in
the last pages of the Tuhfat accounts for the events in the traditio-
nal manner of the Malay historian, unminding of the social impli-
cations of the events but doggedly relating the events as they hap-
pened. Even while portraying the last vestiges of power left in the

49
Malay rulers, he still clings on to the chiche, “Seperti adat raja-raja
yang besar”, when narrating such events as the meeting between
the rulers or between the rulers and the Europeans. Admittedly
Abdullah was not basically a historian but a chroniciler and a social
commentator, while Raja Au Haji was more of a historian and a
writer. It is in this respect that Raja Ali Haji appears to be a figure
of the classical pujangga while Abdullah shows up more as a figure
of transition in Malay letters.
It is significant to note that out of so many manuscripts which
are known to have survived to this day, there is a remarkable
absence of works dealing with language. Except for Kitab Terasul,
which is about the closest one can get to works dealing with
language, there is no work in the classical period which can be
described as a grammar or dictionary. However, such works on
Malay in European languages since the sixteenth century are well-
known to us, including treatises on grammar, literature, poetry,
spelling and dictionaries. Perhaps there was little self-conscious-
ness among the native Malays about their own language for it was
something taken for granted. Or perhaps the knowledge of writing
was the privilege of only a few, the pujangga at the royal courts, so
that writing and proper usage of the language were a rare commo-
dity confined only to a few. It is equally significant to note that
linguistic interests began to surface in Malay letters only in the
nineteenth century, a period which also saw other intellectual
expressions such as the interest shown in the technological and
socio-political advancement in the western countries, The most
significant new element in the intellectual activities in the late
nineteenth century, besides literature, was more attention paid to
the secular aspects of life as opposed to the religious domain,
Abdulláh had voiced his views on the subject of language learn-
ing, language usage and the structure of pantun. However, there
was no attempt on his part to write a grammar or even compile a
dictionary although he was actively engaged in teaching the
language to his European friends. In fact, it was with his help that
those friends of his could compile dictionaries and write treatises
on the Malay language. The end of the nineteenth century saw
activities that seemed to put iinguistic interest in the Malay
language on a-firm footing. Not only were works on language and
dictionaries published, such as Pemimpin Johorand Beneh Penge-
tahuan by Muhammad Ibrahim Munshi, Abdullah’s son, or
Kamus Mahmudiah and Pemimpin Pengetahuan by Sayid Mah-
mud bin Sayid Abdul Kadir, but a society for the promotion of

50
learning and teaching linguistic knowledge of Malay (Pakatan Be-
Iajar~Mengajar Pengetahuan Bahasa) was also founded in Johor in
1888.2 It is without doubt that the nineenth century saw an
awakening of interest in the Malay language by the natives them-
selves, although some of them were not really indigenous Malays
but were of Arab or Indian descent. We can attribute the blos-
soming of linguistic interest in the nineteenth century to a socio-
cultural change taking place in the Malay world. And it was Raja
All Haji who can be given the credit of attempting the first work on
grammar and dictionary by a native Malay.
The treatise on grammar called Bustan-a!-Katibin or the
“Garden of Scribes” has been adequately commented upon and
translated into Dutch by van Ronkel in the Tijdschrifj voor Indische
Tal!-Land~enVolkunkunde in its 1901 issue.22The manuscripts are
also listed in van Ronkel’s catalogue of Malay Manuscripts in the
Bataviaasch Genootschap van Kunsten en Wetenschappen. 22
catalogue has since been updated by a team working for Projek
Inventrisasi dan Dokumentasi Kebudayaan Nasional which has
come out with a new catalogue of Malay manuscript collections at
the Central Museum in Jakarta, Katalogus Koleksi Naskhcih
Melayu Museum Pusat (1972). 2.~ There are two entries for Bustan
Al-Katibin based on the van Ronkel’s catalogue, but given new
numbers and placed under “Kelompok VII: Aneka Ragam:”
21. BUSTAN AL-KATIBIN I
MI, 844 (dan NW. 218). 33x21 CM
56 hal., 20W., huruf Arab, baik.
Kitab bacaan dan tatabahasa Melayu
(lihat, TBG j ilid XLIV hal. 512—581).
Ditulis di Penyengat, 20 Sya’ban 1273.
22. BUSTAN AL-KATIBIN II
MI. 845 (dan W. 219), 21 x 16 CM.,
88 hal., 14 hr., huruf Arab, jelas
Cat: KR. hal. 461, sama dengan I, tetapi
paragrafnya tidak bernombor: tanggalnya:
Riau. 18 Dzulk 1267.
Although the catalogue says that the writing is clear, I have found
that both the items are in bad shape because the ink on the pages
have become imprinted on other pages. As a result, it is difficult to
read the writing, especially the first manuscript, which was written
in 1857. According to van Ronkel, it is not actually a manuscript
but a lithographed copy, which was sent by Van der Tuuk to the
Director of the Batavia Society in 1868. Some parts of this “manu-

51
script” are still legible, but otherwise it is almost illegible. The
second “manuscript” is in a worse condition as it is already ille-
gible for most part. The first “manuscript” is apparently earlier
that the second one, but it is doubtful if it is an original copy. It is
probable that the Bustan al-Katibin has been copied many times
over despite the fact that it was once lithographed. This practice
is quite usual: even in the period before the Second World
War, many of the lithograph or even printed Kitab and Syair
were copied in handwriting in the homes of wealthy Arab and Jawi
Peranakan families in Singapore and Penang. It is not known whet-
her other copies of the Bustan Al-Katibin exist, but one has
recently been acquired in Riau.24 It is evident from the xeroxed
copy sent to me that it is a separate manuscript from the two in the
Museum Pusat.
My discussion of the Bustan al-Katibin here should not repeat
what has already been done by van Ronkel three-quarters of a cen-
tury ago. I feel that a critical edition of the text should be attemp-
ted, if not for its linguistic significance at least for its historical
value as the first attempt by a native Malay to put his language
into a grammatical form. As already pointed out by van Ronkel,
Buston al-Katibin is not actually a work on Malay grammar but
rather the application of Arabic grammar on the Malay language.
It is difficult to say whether the author was trying to fit Arabic
grammar into Malay language of vice verse. The main portion in
this work comprises a Mukaddimah followed by 31 Fasa! or
subject-matters and concluded by three “Pesan” or advice. In the
first “manuscript” in the Jakarta Museum the colophon is follo-
wed by three pages of an exposition on the good and bad points of
composing syair, pantun and gurindam, a blank page with only
the word “Syair” written on top of the page, obviously represen-
ting an attempt to compose a syair which was never fulfilled, and
lastly a page which is entitled “Inilah Ikat-ikatan Dua Belas
Puji’~
It is not clear whether or not the treatise on poetry and the last
page were the work of Raja Ali Haji. It is a well-known fact how-
ever that Raja Ali Haji was very fond of poetry: he had not only
written the syair, but had composed gurindam and pantun berkait.
In fact, it is very interesting to note that the “Ikat-ikatan Dua Belas
Puisi” is not called a syair nor a pantun, but ikat-ikatan, for as to be
seen in the Appendix, it does not conform strictly to the syair form
but approximates the form of pantun berkait. In pantun berkait,
the first two lines are like the first two lines of the pantun (erroneo-

52
usly called “pembayang maksud”) in that they have no direct
bearing in meaning on the last two lines which convey the message
(maksud), but the second line is repeated in the succeeding stanza
as its first-line, just as the last of the preceding stanza is repeated
as the third line. In this particular instance, the form is like pantun
berkait in the rhyming scheme, the repetition of the second and
last lines in the succeeding stanza, but there is no “pemboyang
maksud”. On the other hand it is like the syair because the idea in
each stanza runs continuously from the first to the last line. In
content, it deals with a gift of a silver ink-well from the Dutch
government to the author, and this called for an expression of
gratitude in response to the honour (Kumia raja muliakan kami).
Judging from the content of the poem and bearing in mind the fact
that Raja Haji was probably a well-known personality in Pulau
Penyengat at the time, it is perhaps not too far fetched to suggest
that the poem was the work of Raja All Haji himself.
In the main part of Bustan al-Katibin, Raja Ali Haji does not
only deal with linguistic analysis of the language, but dwells also
on such subjects as the value of knowledge. The introduction, as in
most classical works, is interspersed with Arabic pharaseology
which is translated into Malay. And this is apparently the form
that the author prescribes, especially for letter-writing. After the
usual introduction of Bismillah:ir-Rahman-ir-Rahim,
, there
follows the usual Arabic phraseology in praise of Allah and the
Holy Prophet Muhammad, his family and his companions. Then
follows in Arabic the name of the author and his intention of
writing a book on language, with the following Malay translation,
“Inilah suatu kitab yang simpan bagi orang yang berkehendak ato.s
mengena!sega/a hunifMelayu dan suratannya dan aku atorkan dia atas
suatu mukaddimah dan beberapa pasa/ yang satu khatamah’~Then
follo~in Arabic the name of the book and the Malay translation, “aku
namai akan dia Bustan al-Katibinyakni perkebunanjunitulis bagi kanak-
kanak yang hendak be/ajar” And the introduction ends with, “Berrnula
harap aku akan Allah Ta’a/a memberi manafaat dengan dia bagi orang
yang membaca be/ajar akan dia: Amin!” The Mukaddimah which is
rather lengtby contains among many things a discussion on the
advantage of knowledge, the way knowledge is acquired, the relation-
ship with one’s teacher and so on.
Bustan al-Katibin represents an attempt to analyse the Malay
language into some kind of linguistic rules, and it was an obvious
thing that the Arabic grammar was used as a means to achieve

53
this. In this case not only because the author was well-versed in
Arabic but also because the Malay language itself, especially in
the written form, had been much influenced by Arabic usage.25 The
learned, the intellectual elite of the time, were invariably conver-
sant with Arabic for the most dominant intellectual activity
during the classical period was religious studies. Besides the
narrative hikayat and syair and the sejarah (histories), most of the
written works had been of religious nature in one way or another.
A cursory glance at the catalogue of the manuscripts in the Mu-
seum Pusat, Jakarta, for instance, reveals that the longest list is in
the group of religious works, surpassing even the hikayat and
syair. And many of the religious works were actually translations
on renderings of works in Arabic. Thus the Malay language in its
writteri form was much influenced, in practice, by the Arabic
language. Nevertheless, this fact does not mitigate the criticism
levelled at the work by von Ronkel that “Het Werk van Radja Ali is
geen Maleische spraakunst The Malay idiom was utterly lost
in Raja Ali Haji’s treatment of the language, for the examples that
he presented were not Malay but Arabic rendering of Malay. It is
historically and culturally significant that this work appeared in the
second half of the nineteenth century when the classical polity was
giving may to a new social order spearheaded by European expan-
sion into the Malay world. Beginnings, such as the use of native
terms (e.g. “nama” is used besides the Arabic “ismu” or “per-
buaton” for Arabic “fi’il”) besides the Arabic ones, are to be
observed, although some of t’he attempts are clumsy and unintelli-
gible (e.g. “nama yang melerrgkapi pada jenisnya dan yang
melengkapi pada malamnya”). However, such problems are not
preculiar to Raja Ali Haji for even Za’ba in his Pelita Bahasa
Melayu had to resort to equally unwieldy terms.
Raja Ali 1-laji can be said to be the last of the classical pujangga,
and this fact is reflected in his Bustan al-Katibin While he was,
-

in a way, introducing a new element in Malay letters by attempting

to draw out a grammatical system for the language, he was in
actual fact defending the classical style. In this respect Abdullah,
in a different milieu, had inadvertently broken the shackles of the
classical style. In the last Fasal of the Bustan al-Katibin, for
example, Raja Ali Haji expounded the model for letter writing.
According to him:
Bermu!a perkataan pada surat perkinman ito, maka hendaklah
dimulai dengan Bismi!lah-ir-Rahman-ir-Rahim: kemudian dengan
A!hamdulillah, yakni memuji-muji akan Allah Ta’ala, mana-mana

54
 yang munasabah, dan yang layak pada pekerjaan dan maksud di
surat yang dikirimkan ito. Kemudian maka selawat akan Nabi kita
serta keluarganya dan sahabatnya. Kemudian baru!ah diiringi dengan
salam takzim, dan mana-mana layaknya dan pakitnya, dan orang
yang berkiñm dan pada orang yang dikinmi ito, maka hendaklah
diinngi dengan doa mana-mana yang layaknya dan yang munasa-
bahnya. Kemudian barulah datangkan perkataan yang menceraikan
perkatoan puji-pujian dengan perkatoan yang dimaksud iaitu/ah
waba’dah atau nama ba’du. Dan ter/ebih baik dan ter!ebih simpan
daripada menyebutkan daripada kalam almazkutdan ter!ebih fasihat
lagi pu/a daripada diberi akan makna
What is to be observed here is the paraphernalia that went into
letter-writing, a convention which had been commented upon by
Abdullah and which had not survived into the twentieth century
except in Malay courtly practices and in very special instances.
However, as a comparison, the anonymous author of a book, Ilmu
Kepandaian, published in Singapore towards the end of the last
century, had criticised the long-winded practice of Malay
latter writing.26 The book which contains short essays on such
subjects as the world was spherical, the function of the lib-
rary, map-making, street-lighting by electricity, newspapers,
welfare homes, printing, history books and air purification, repre-
sents an effort to introduce a new kind of knowledge, secular
knowledge that is, to the contemporary Malay reader, and there-
fore its criticism of the “time-wasting” conventions of Malay
letter-writing was consonant with the type of world-view it was
trying to promote in Malay society. The point that is being made
here is that the Bustan al-Katibin still represents the classical
world-view as far as language usage is concerned although the
attempt to work out a grammar for the language in itself repre-
sents an innovation.

Raja Ali Haji’s other work on language is Kitab Pengetahuan

Bahasa. It was written in 1858 but not until 1928 that was it first
published by the Al-Ahmadiah Press in Singapore. From the title
page we find that it was written in Pulau Penyengat, Riau in Hija-
rah 1275. The work, however, was not completed, for the dictio-
nary went as far as letter ca (~). It is observed that the title page
indicates the work as Penggal Pertama, implying that there were
other parts of the work. In actual fact, as stated in the letter sent by
the publisher to Za’ba dated 9th January, 1930, the published

55
work represented all that was extant. However the question of
“Penggal Pertama” can be explained by the fact that it was the
publisher’s hope to get Za’ba to complete the work (“Maka besar-
lah pengharapan kami mudah-mudahan dengan ihsan tuan atau
lainnya dapat kiranya pada masa yang lapang tuan menjalankan ikhtiar
mengadakan sambungannya supaya kaum kita dapat menjadikannya
tempat rujukan pada perbahasan yang dimusykilkannya atou dapat
mereka ito memandang dan mengerti akan cukup lengkap perbahasan
sendiri beratos-ratus tahun yang dahulu”).
Za’ba on his part, however, was rather critical of the work. In the
notes that he wrote on the back of the above letter, Za’ba made the
following points: he did not agree with the approach of the work,
which he considered fell short of being a kamus ( kerana
banyak melarat jika demikian bukan lagi kamus bahasa namanya);too
many ofArabic rules and terms used for grammar etc., whereas the Malay
language had its own sturcture kaedah Arab dan sebut-sebuton Arab
banyak dipakainya pada nahu dan lain-lain, pada ha! bahasa Melayu ada
adatnya sendiri). It was regretable that the work was not completed, for
otherwise it would have been a great work nevertheless; it was
good of the publister to publish the work without any changes to
the original text for then the reader would be able to fathom the
author’s feeling and knowledge ( dengan demikian dapat pem-
baca-pembaca menganggarkan bagaimana dalam hati pengarang-
nya. dan ke pihak mana lebih i!munya dan cenderung hatinya).
and lastly Za’ba in vague terms stated that the idea of compiling a
dictionary had been with him for a long time and God willing he
would embark on the work (akan saya mulai men ghadapkan din
kepadanya) as soon as he had finished the book which was being
printed at that time. Za’ba’s view of (Kitab Pengetahuan Bahasa
did not change when he wrote “Modern Developments” for Wins-
tedt’s A History of Malay Literature some years later. However, he
conceded that, “With all its defects the book was perhaps the first
Malay attempt at lexicography and deserves to be treasured if only
as a curiosity” 27

Notwithstanding Za’ba’s view, Kitab Pengetahuan Bahasa is a

useful landmark in the cultural history of the Malays. Although it
was not published during the author’s lifetime, it representd a new
element in the classical literary activity. The development of native
Malay lexicography in the modern sense saw its beginnings in the
nineteenth century, and Raja All Haji’s attempt to compile one is

56
of some significance. The work, however, is not a dictionary in its
entirety. True to its title, a book of linguistic knowledge, it begins
with a chapter on grammar using the Arabic model. The content of
this part is more or less the same as tobe found in Bustan al-Katibin, but
with some elaboration, especially in the examples. The Mukaddimah,
after the usual Arabic phraseology of praise to the Prophet, states:

Yakni mi satu pendahuluan: ketahui olehmu orang yang

menuntut bahasa Melayu bahawa sesungguhnya sekali-kali
tiada boleh dapat kenyataan segala maksud bahasa Melayu
dengan sempurnanya melainkan hendaklah dengan i/mu yang
tersebut yang akan lagi datang di dalam kitab mi.
Then the chapter deals with the three categories of Arabic gram-
mar: ismu — the noun; fi’ml, the verb and huruf. The noun is dealt
with under the various categories in Arabic such as msmu nakirah
and ismu makrifah ( ~ ~l ) which
is further divided into five subcategories ismu dhamir
.—‘~“ ~ ), ismu al-alam ( ), ismu
isyarah ( ~L~II ~ ), ismu musu/ ( J,~y ,~ ), and
ismu Idhafah ( ‘ ). It is interesting’to note the
author’s own view on the subject of grammar:
Ketahui oleh mu, hai sekalian orang yang menutut, banyak-
lah aku tinggalkan bicaranya pada i/mu nahuiai, tiada aku
sebutkan di sini, sebab tiada maksudku hendak memanjang-
kan akan dia. Barangkali terlebih amat sukar bagi orang yang
baharu belajar memahamkan akan dia pada ilmu Arab,
akan tetapi apatah dayaku daripada sangat loba aku hendak
memperbuatkan kaedah mi yang diperpegang oleh orang
yang berkehendak akan membetulkan perkataannya dan
suratannya, jika aku bukannya ahli itu seka/ipun pada yang
demikian itu.
It is equally interesting to note that the knowledge of linguistics
or grammar is called “ilmu Arab”, and the enunciation of the
grammar in the book is undoubtedly Arabic fitted into Malay. As
in Bustan al-Katibin, even the examples sound Arabic rather
than Malay. In certain illustrations, as in the case of “nama gelar-
gelaran” as part of his discussion on noun, the author provides the
various titles to be found in Malay life of his time, such as Sultan,
Raja, Menteri, Baginda, Yang Dipertuan Besar, Yang Dipertuan
Muda Tuan, Daing, Encik, Wak Batin, Patinggi and so
on. The section on “fl’ml” or “pethuatan” (verb) follows that of

57
noun. Again it is based on Arabic where fi’il is dMded into fill
lazim and fi’il muta’di. The examples, as in his Bustan a!-Katibin
are not idiomatically Malay, such as “telah memuku! si Zaid” or
“telah menyumpah si Zaid,” when illustrating fi’il lazim. The
section on “huruf” shows the kind of Arabic categorisation which
does not entirely fit with Malay. For example, the category of
words under “jar” include prepositions as well as quantifiers:
dengan, daripada, kepada, hingga, pada, demi, bagi, beberapa,
atas, seperti, selama-lama and astathni or kecuali. In the category
of other than “jar”, it includes interjections and conjunctions: hai,
oi, and weh; melainkan: bahawa dan bahawa sesungguhnya or
bahawasanya; seolah-olah; tetopi; wai kiranya; mudah-mudahan:
tiada; hendaklah; jangan; jika or jmkalau. In explaining tiada, the
author points out that there is a limited sense in using the negative
in Malay compared to Arabic where it has “two, three and four
rules regarding its use.” This draws his comment; “Maka sangat-
lah miskinnya bahasa Melayu mi jika dibangsaka denga bahasa
71 71

Arab” -

The interogative includes adakah, betapakah, beberapa, kerana

apa and apa. However he categorises siapa, manakala, mana-
mana and di mana as “ismu bertanya”. His explanation of the
interogative, however, is perhaps the closest he got to Malay cate-
gonsation: “adalah” ito iaitu bertanya pada: “betapakah” itu
iaito bertanya daripada hal; “berapa” ito bertanya daripada bi!angan;
“kerana apa” ito iaitu bertonya daripada sebab; “apa” ito bertanya
daripada zat; “siapa” ito iaito bertanya danpada batang tobuh;
“manakala” ito ialah bertanya daripada masa; “di mana” ito bertanya
danpada tempat; “mana” ito iaito bertonya daripada ketentuan.

He categorises words such as bahkan, ya, supaya, and maka as

hurufjawab, that is because these words define what has been
said before. Dan, maka, kemudian, atau and tetapi are categonsed
as huruf mengikut following the Arabic terms. Thus one example
of using tetopi follows the Arabic usage: tiada datong akan dikau
Si Zaid tetapi Si Omar. And he conveniently explains the interjec-
tions lah, oh, wah, nah, amboi and tah as “huruf Melayu yang
berguna masing-masing dengan gunanya dan tempatnya kerana segala
hurufyangterdapat ito iaitu jadi perencah (sic)pada beberapa perkataan
Melayu” The explanation that follows makes use of interesting exam-
ples, as in the case of “amboi” when the author states “jika amboi ito

58
melebihkan, dibesarkan sedikit suara dan amboi “pada mengurangkan
ito dikendurkan sedikit suaranya dengan halus”

The derivative floun such as ketiadaan, kekayaan and perjalanan

or duplicated words such as berbunuh-bunuhan are explained as
the “nun” phenomenon, when “huruf nun dibunuh”. One of the
flaws of Raja Ali Haji’s grammar is his failure to recognise
the basic feature of the language, that is the system of affixes
The word “istimewa pula” is explained as “huruf yang
melebihi daripada maksud yang dahulu “ while syahadari as
“datang ia pada perkatoan yang dahulunya dengan perkataan yang
kemudian terkadang datang ia pada menyatakan perkatoan yang /agi
akan datang ‘~ Raja Ali Haji makes the distinction between a complete
sentence, an incomplete sentence and a complement in a sentence by
using the term “perkataan’~“kato-kata” and “kata” respectively. The
three are made up of ismu, fi’il and huruf. Then he proceeds to
demonstrate the construction ofthe sentence, beginning with the subject
followed by the verb. His first example is given in Arabic: “Zaid qaim” or
“Zaidyang berdiri” (which should be idiomatically Zaid berdiri). The rest
of the introduction thus deals with the sentence following the Arabic
model rather than the Malay.

The first chapter of the lexicon, which is the main part of the
work, deals with words beginning with alif, and it begins with a
lengthy exposition on “Allah”. This is followed by “Ahmad”, that
is the name of Prophet Muhammad as mentioned in the bible; an
explanation on the companions of the Prophet; an explanation as
to the origin and nature of man, including the question of after-
death; a discussion on the ways of the world with emphasis on such
dispositions in man as avarice and arrogance and their opposites
such as sense of justice and humility; and a long exposition of the
after-world. It is only with the second chapter onwards that the
book really takes the form of a lexicon. As pointed out by Za’ba,
the “curious” arrangement of the words is by first and last letters.
Thus the first set of words are those beginning with alif and ending
with hamzah, and then followed by a set begining with a/if ending
with hamzah but defined by ta (alif dan akhirnya hamzah yang
mati dipukul ta). Such an arrangement seems to follow the pronun-
ciation of the spoken word rather than a consistent system of spel-
ling. Thus hamzah really represents the glottal stop, and therefore
a~word has to be spelt in more than one way. And this is aggra-
vated by the fact that the vowel is often not used in preference for

59
the diacritical signs, which, however are in turn often left out any-
way. For example:

4’
The lexicon contains many ordinary words that one can find in any
ordinary dictionary today, but it is useful in explaining those words
which have fallen into disuse today or terms which are peculiar to
the Riau-Lingga Archipelago especially words of Bugis origin. In
the explanation to some words, Raja Ali Haji makes use of his
historical knowledge to illustrate further their meaning Thus for
the word Upu, the author does not only explain what it means
(nama anak raja-raja Bugis di negeri Luwok) but he goes on to
relate the history of his ancestors, the five Bugis princes who
dominated the Riau-Johore empire in the eighteenth century. He
even mentions Tuhfat al-Nafis in this connection (bacalah sejarah
dan siarah Melayu serta Bugis dalam Kitab yang bernama Tuhfat
al-Nafis). The word “tengku” for instance, is given a long
explanation by tracing its usage from the time of Sri Tn Buana of
Palembang to the time of the author, especially in making the dis-
tinction between tengku, ungku or raja as applied to those whose
descent was from the Bugis warriors and those who descended
from the Johor royal lineage. It is characteristic of Raja Ali Haji to
stray from his subject matter or to elaborate it unncessarily. For
the word berani, for example, he has a long syair composed to
illustrate what it means. In explaining the word tarak which means
a religious ascetic or a pious person, he takes the opportunity to
condemn those, who in the garb of pious teachers, take advantage
of their wom~idisciples. He even provides a long syair relating a
story of how a young man in the guise of a girl turns the tables on
the offending religious teacher. The syair leaves so little to the
imagination that it sounds really vulgar.28 The main flaw of the sec-
tion on grammar, and this view holds tnie of Buston al-Katibin
also, is that it fails even to recognise the basic features of the
Malay language, especially in the use of the affixes. In the lexicon,
the derivative forms are given under a particular word and are
explained by providing examples of their usage. It is clear that
Raja Ali Haji was able to provide apt examples for the derivative
forms, but little else besides that. Usually the examples are in the
form of direct speech (seperti kata seorang: si anu ito sudah di-

60
incitkan orang dan negeri or kato seseorang kepada sese-
orang seperti katanya: incitkanlah si anu dan sini lekas-lekas )
The word forms are apparently based on pronunciation. The penul-
timate ,‘~,, or the sound ,‘~/ is given a special dia-
critical mark ~ thus distinguising it between the word
ambik ( ~ ) meaning to take and embek
- ) which is the bleating of a goat. In transcri-
bing certain words which normally would have initial
Raja Ali Haji spells out the weak form which undergoes an elision
of the * in the spoken language. Thus words like hambat is
given as ambat, hendcip as endap or hela as~eIa.However, both
forms are also given side by side lIke( ) and
although in term of the arrangement they
are placed under alif. However, putting the work in the context of
its time, the least we can say for Raja Ali Haji’s effort is that it is a
pioneering piece of work. It has its flaws, but that is to be expected
for apart from the works of westerners at the time which might not
have been accessible to him then, Raja Ali Haji had hardly any
model to work upon.
This paper has tried to discuss Raja Ali Haji’s contributions to
Malay letters, especially in historiography and linguistic know-
ledge. It has not dealt much with his contribution in classical
poetry. Apart from his Gurindam Dua Belas and the rendering of
Syair Abdul Muluk, which is also attributed to his sister, Rajä
Saleha,29 his poetic compositions are to be found Interspersed in
his prose works or elsewhere. Za’ba thought that his syamr was “of
third-rate guality”. Admittedly Raja Ali Haji excels in light-
hearted and even naughty compositions and this seems to be his
forte. But among his poems these are also the moralising ones.
There may be other works that he had written, but at least one
work is mentioned in Kitab Pengetahuan Bahasa (p. 92), that is a
work on adab (moral or proper conduct) called Thamarat-al Mih-
mah (Fruits of Importance).3° Taken as a whole, his contribu-
tions to Malay letters are quite significant. He was creative and
was quite perceptive of the signs of the times as could be seen in
his pioneering work in grammar, lexicography and treatment of
historiography, but he was not that innovative to make the transi-
tion from the classical style and conventions to new ones. To the
very end he kept close to the polity into which he was born and in
which he grew and participated fully. He was not, therefore, a fi-
gure of transition when compared to Abdullah, for truly, he was
the last of the classical Malay pujanggas.

61
 APPENDIX
The poetry on the last page of the Bustan a!-Katibin in

Museum Pusat Jakarta.

Inilah Ikat-ikatan Dua Belas Puji

Tempat dakwat perak yang khalis,

Kurnia guberneman raja bangsawan,
Patut dipakai di tengah majlis,
Menjadikan sedap di mata tuan-tuan.

Kurnia gubernemen raja bangsawan,

Kepada seorang fakir .maulana,
Menjadikan sedap di mata tuan-tuan,
Sebab perbuatan terlalu kena.

Kepada seorang fakir maulana,

Diam di Penyengat di Kota Lama,
Sebab perbuatan terlalu kena,
Patut dijadikan zaman dan nama.

Diam di Penyengat di Kota Lama,

Tarikh dal-ra-ghin tahun Islami,
Patut dijadikan zaman dan nama,
Kurnia Raja memuliakan kami.

Tarikh dal-ra-ghin tahun Islami,

Dzulkaidah konon nama bulannya,
Kurnia raja memuliakan kami,
Patutlah dimasyhur akan namanya.

Dzulkaidah konon nama bulannya,

Menerima dia di balairong seri,
Patutlah dimasyhur akan namanya,
Raja yang murah lagi jauhari.

Menerima dia di balairong seri,

Han Sabtu pukul sembilan,

62
Raja yang murah lagi jauhari,
Iaitulah raja bangsa Nederlan.

Han Sabtu pukul sembilan,

disambut dengan beberapa mulia,
Itulah raja bangsa Nederlan,
Perintahnya lalu ke tanah Hindia.

Disambut dengan beberapa mulia,

Dipasangkan meriam duapuluh satu,
Perintahnya lalu ke tanah Hindia,
Nederlan konon namanya tentu.

Dipasangkan meriam dua puluh satu,

Dipukulkan nobat berderang-derang,
Nederlan konon namanya tentu,
Khabarnya bangsa berani berperang.

Dipukulkan nobat berderang-derang,

Hingga sampai ke balairongseri,
Khabarnya bangsa berani berperang,
Banyaklah sudah mengalahkan negeri.

Hingga sampai ke balairongseri,

Selesailah pekerjaan te~imamenerima,
Sudahlah banyak mengalahkan negeri,
Kerajaannya tentu masyhurlah nama.

63
Notes.
T~egeneral characteristics of the indigenous civilisation before the onset of
European domination have been outlined by Prof. W.F. Wertheim in his
Indonesian Society in Transition (pp. 2 — 8)- The emphasis by Wertheim
ias been on the diversity of the different types of civilisations — the polity of
royal courts surrounded by land-based peasantry as in Central and East
Java, the harbour principalities on the pesisir and the hinterland of the harbour
principalities populated by the peasantry of the ladang type of cultivation.
To these I would add the inhabitants of the interior who were technologically
inferior but who would have much more cohesive socio-political structure.
The polity of the three types described by Wertheim can also be described
in term of “great-little traditions” as first suggested by Robert Redfield (in his
Peasant Society and Culture, Chicago 1956) and applied to the Javanese
civilisation by Clifford Geertz (see his The Religion of Java, New York: The
Free Press, 1969, pp. 227 — 231).
2. See Mohd. Taib Osman, “Kesusasteraan Melayu dan Peruhahan Sosio-
Budaya”, Dewan Bahasa, Vol. XVIII, No.8 (August 1974).
3. See Matheson, Varginia, “The Tuhfat al-Nafis: Structure and Sources”,
Bijdragen tot de Taal-, Land-en Volkenkunde. Deel 127 (1971). or
an unpublished paper by Dr. Ulnch Kratz, “Sumber-sumber Sejarah Riau
Sekitar Tahun 1511-1784”, which was prepared for Seminar Sejarah Riau
at Pekanbaru in May 1975.
4. The Tuhfat itself provides a detailed genealogy of the Johore-Bugis alliance
beginning with the marriages between the Bugis Upu and the Johore
princesses up to the time of Raja Au Haji himself.
5. See Muhammad bin Anas, “Geographical Notes to the Tuhfat al-Nafis
or a Malay History of Riau and Johore”, unpublished acc, ex in the
Department of Malay Studies, University of Malaya, 1958, pp. ix-x. The
influence of Raja Ali Haji in political-administrative matters and also in
religious learning in the royal courts of Riau-Lingga is also well summarised
by Muhammad bin Anas (pp. x-xii) -
6. The picture of the Johore royal line in the Tuhfat as well as the Silsilah in
respect of their alliance with the Bugis Upus cannot be said to be flattering,
especially the portrayal of the helplessness of the Johore royal family against
Raja Kechik of Siak. In the Tuhfat, Tengku Tengah said Jikalau tuan
hamba berani tutupkanlah kemaluan beta anak.beranak, adik-beradik;
maka apabila tertutup kemaluan beta semua maka redalah beta men-
jadi hamba raja Bugis, jikalau hendak disuruh jadi penanak nasi raja
sekalipun, redalah beta”. And in the Silsilah, the Bugis-Johore alliance is
described in the following terms: “Yam Tuan Besar (i.e. the Johore-Ruler)
jadi seperti perempuan raja, jika dibennya (i.e. the Bugis Yam Tuan
Muda) makan maka baharulah makan ia, dan Yam Tuan Muda jadi se-
perti laki-laki’~However, the general picture of the Johore family in the works is
that it forms the base of the civilisation into which the Bugis were
absorbed, just as the Manchus were sinicised when they conquered China.

64
 7. See Matheson, ibid.
8. The Silsilah was published by the Al-Imam Press in Singapore on 21 Rabi
al-akhir 1329 Hijrah and later was published by the Johore Ggyernment
Press at the command of the Sultan of Johore in 1956. It has recently been
edited (minus the syair) and published by Pustaka Antara in Kuala Lumpur
in 1973).
9. Kratz, ibid.
10. Matheson, ibid, p. 389.
11. Hill, A.H. “Hikayat Raja-raja Pasai”. JMBRAS, XXXIII. 2 (June, 1960)
p. 25.
12. Mohd. Taib Osman, “Mythic Elements in Malay Historiography”, lënggara.
No. 3 (1968).
13. Matheson, ibid. p. 389.
14. In discussing the various texts of Sejarah Melayu, Winstedt believes that the
“Johore revision kills off this son (Raja Radin son of Sultan Mansur Shah)
and fabricates a Raja Hussain son of a Bendahara lady who becomes Sultan
Alauddin”. (A History of Classical Malay Literature Kuala Lumpur
Oxford University Press, 1969, p. 159).
15. See Hikayat Abdullah, the chapter “Darihal Tuan Crawford dengan Sultan
Hussain Shah negeri Singapura”.
16. Winstedt. R.O. (ed) Tuhfat-al-Nafis, JMBRAS, X.2. (1932) p. 121.
17. Ibid, p. 191.
18. Ibid pp. 223 — 227.
19. Ibidp.233.
20. See Zainal Abidin bin Ahmad, ‘Modern Developments” in JMBRAS,
XVII. 3 (1939).
21. Ronkel. Ph. 5. van, “De Maleische Schriftleer en Spraakkunst getiteld
Boestanoe ‘I Katibina”. Tiidschrife voar Indische Taal-, Land-en Volkun-
kunde, deel XLIV (1901).
22. Ronkel. Ph. S. van, “Catalogus der Maleische Handschriften in het Museum
van her Bataviaasch Genootschap van Kunsten en Wetens-chappen”,
Verhandelingen von het Bataviaasch Genootschaap, LVII (1909).
23. Katalogus Koleksi Naskah Melayu Museum Pusat (Projek Inventarisari dan
Dokumentasi KebudayaanNasional, DirektoratJenderal, Kebudayaan) Dep. P and
K 1972.
24. Acquired by a linguist in Universitas Indor~esia,Jakarta, Drs. Harimurti
Kridaleksana.
25. Even Raja Ali Haji’s prose is heavily Arabised. See Ismail bin Abdul Rahman.
“The Arabic Influence in the Tuhfat al-Nafis”, unpublished acc. ex. in the
Dept. of Malay Studies, University of Malaya, 1959.
26. This particular publication is found in the Malay collection of the National
Library in Singapore.
27. “Modern Developments”, p. 143.
28. Demikianlah sehari-hari,
Lepas Isya’ sampai dinihari,
Lepas seorang, seorang diberi,
Lebai berkehendak banyak yang lan.

65
 Mak Iebai mendengan khaban yang pelik.
Loklok dipanggil ke dalam bulk.
Senta tiba zakan dibelek.
Membuang kain minta dicolek.

Mak Iebai dijimak oleh si muda.

Kembang kempis penut dan dada.
Dengan lebai sangat benbeda.
Sepenti kambing dengan kuda.
(Kitab Pengetahuan Bahasa p. 303)
29. Attributed to Raja Saleha by Raja Au Hajis close Dutch fniend. H. van de
Wall.

30. 4~Lft j

66
4
MODERN MALAY LITERATURE: A REFLECTION
OF A CHANGING SOCIETY AND CULTURE

1. Introduction
The growth and development of modern Malay literature went
through three distant phases: the first stretches from about the
middle of the nineteenth century to the second decade of the
twentieth century, the second from the 1920’s to the outbreak
of the Pacific War, and the third from 1945 to the present
day. The modern tradition is new and is still developing, but it
is clearly distinguishable from the classical style.’ The changes
that overtook traditional Malay society started with British colonial
expansion into the Malay peninsula. Beginning with isolated settle-
ments in Penang, Malacca and Singapore between 1789 and
1823, British dominance in Malaya was complete by the first
decade of the present century. The first phase of modern
Malay literature thus coincided with the early period of British rule
in Malaya. The second period was during the time when Malay
society was receiving the full impact of British dominance which
brought with it westernisation. The Japanese occupation between
1942 and 1945 saw little literary activity, but it was a period which
provided the climate in which new perspectives towards literature
were nurtured and later found expression during the post-war
period,the third phase in the development of modern Malay litera-
ture. Post-war Malay literature is characterised by an unprece-
dented awareness of the younger generation of Malay writers of
their two-fold mission: to elevate Malay writing to higher stan-

67
dards of literary achievements and, through their writings, to be
committed to the socio-political issues prevailing at the time.

2. The First Phase: The Beginnings

The nineteenth century was one of great significance to the
history of the Malay Peninsula. It was the period in which Malay
society felt the early impact of modern Western civilisation. At the
beginning of the century life still went on as before in most parts of
the peninsula, but in places like Penang, Malacca and Singapore
where by 1824 A.D. the English East India Company had replaced
their Malay and Dutch rulers, contact with the English had begun
to introduce significant changes to local life. The process of colonial
expansion accelerated towards the end of the century. so that by
the first decade of the 20th century, the whole of the peninsula had
passed into British dominance. The passing of the traditional
society is also reflected in literature. The break from the classical
literary tradition was neither sharp nor immediate; the classical
prose — the hikayat — and the traditior~a1poetry — syair and
pantun continued to be popular well into the 20th centuty. By
the 1850’s, the first signs of innovation were to be observed.
The person accredited as the innovator of Malay writing is
Abdullah bin Abdul Kadir Munshi. He is said to be the forerunner
of modern writing because his works had broken away from the
conventional style and ideas of classical works. Abdullah did not
introduce the novel, nor did he ever experiment with new verse
forms, but he had introduced a new approach to writing. The inno-
vation is more on the ideational level rather than in literary presen-
tation. For the first time we get works which effect self-conscious-
ness and ego-centricism in Malay literature.
Abdullah’s major work was Hikayat Abdullah, which has
2 However, about Abdullah
been described as his autobiography.
himself, “we get only a glimpse of his early childhood in Malacca
and little else besides that. Most of the work is about the personal-
ities of his time, the officials of the English East India Company
like Sir Stamford Raffles and Colonel Farquhar; the last Malay
ruler of Singapore Sultan Hussein Shah; European and American
missionaries and traders and Chinese merchants of the early
Singapore days. It also contains accounts of important events like
the founding of the Singapore Institution, the demolition of the old
Portuguese fort in Malacca and the visit of Lord Minto, the Gover-
ner General, to Malacca. The Hikayat also relates Abdullah’s own
expenences like an operation performend upon him by an English

68
surgeon or his visit, at the risk of his own life, to an encampment
of a Chinese secret society in the interior of Singapore. And inter-
spersed in the work, one finds Abdullah’s views and candid com-
ments on the subjects that he wrote on.
Hikayat Abdullah was completed in 1845 and published in 1849
His other works were the account of his voyages to Kelantan, his
original essays on things and events he witnessed during his time
and his translation of books on general knowledge. But his main
contribution to Malay literature is the fact that it was for the first
time that a genuine expression of socio-political awareness was
found in Malay writing. The classical literature was a passive ref-
lector of the social situation and served the functions assigned to it
by the society. For example, the histories or sejarah were not
merely chronicles of their times but served the function of uphol-
ding the social structure through the dynastic myths and stories
calculated to infus~absolute loyalty in the ruling houses. So it was
with Abdullah that the modern tradition had its beginning: a tradi-
tion which is the outcome of socio-political awareness of Malay
intellectuals.
Another writer of significance during the same period was Raja
Au Haji who belonged to the ruling hoqse of Riau. Raja Au Haji’s
writings, however, are nearer to the traditional Malay style than
Abdullah’s. While Abdullah was in a place where currents of
modern Western civilisation were gathering force in the Malay
world, Raja Ali Haji was in a place where the traditional Malay
culture still held away. Being educated in Mecca, his writings were
much influenced by the Arabic style of writings, including the
use of Arabic vocabulary and phraseology. Raja Ali Haji was
both a linguist and a historian, but it is as a historian that he is
better known to-day through his two books, Tuhfat-al-Nafis,
a work on the history of the Malay kings of old Singapore,
Malacca, Johore and Pahang, and his Silsilah Melayu dan Bugis.
Tuhfat-al-Nafls can be said to be in the tradition of classical
Malay historical writings like the Sejarah Melayu or the Hikayat
Raja-raja Pasai, but it shows significant innovations which reflect
the fact that there have been some changes to the Malay view of
history. Tuhfat-aI-Nafis gives more emphasis on the events and
dwells little on those mythic elements whose m~ainfunction is to
lend support to the feudal values and world-view of the traditional
Malay polity. Silsilah Melayu dan Bugis, on the other hand, still
retains the classical style, especially in the use of the syair to relate
the events. It is therefore not an entirely historical work, but one

69
 reflecting the poetic inclinationsof the author. It is in Raja Ali Haji
that we get a reflection of the classical Malay world adapting itself
to a new changing world. His attempt to write a Malay grammar
(Bustan-uI-Katibin) and a dictionary (Kitcib Pengetahuan Bahasa)
reflect the new awareness and self consciousness towards the Malay
language. In the past, there had notbeen aMalay grammar or dictionary
written by Malays themselves.
Both Abdullah and Raja Ali Haji are mentioned here as repre-
sentatives of the~p~jp4dutingwhich modern Malay literature had
its beginnings. There were others, but their contributions are not
as significant. This period especially during the first two decades
of the twentieth century, can be described as one in which new
ideas were beginning to be introduced to the Malay society. Books
on science, mathematics, geography and history were published
for the secular schools established by the British, while translation
of Western popular literary works were also introduced to the gene-
ral reading public. However, the romantic hikayat and syair
remained to be the main literary reading for the people, and this
time these works were printed or lithographed.3
3. The Second Phase: The Foundation Years
The real beginning of modern Malay literature is in the period
between 1925 and the outbreak of the Pacific War in 1942. It was
during this time that new literary forms like the novel or the short-
story dealing with real life characters set in contemporary back-
ground appeared on the Malay literary scene. It was during this
period too that efforts were made to break away from the conven-
tionally rigid forms of the traditional syair and pantun. The chan-
ges did not occur entirely as a result of a consciousness to create
new styles in literature, but partly as an outcome of a non-literary
factor, that is using literature asa platform to discuss and moralise
on current problems, particula;ly those arising from the situation
of social change.
The first novel in Malay, Hikayat Faridah Hanum, was actually
an adaptation from an Egyptian work. Published in 1926, it made a
great impact on the Malay reading public. From the literary point
of view, its innovative feature is that it tells a story about men and
women in a modern society, even though the locale is Cairo in
Egypt rather than Malaya at the time. The dramatis-personae,
however, are still idealistically portrayed and the love theme
is still as entrancing as that of the classical romances.
However, the Malay reader at the time could easily recognise the

70
moral of the story intended for him by the author. The author was
rather preoccupied with the question of morality among Muslims
in the face of social changes fast overtaking the Malays as the
result of rapid westernisation taking place in the Malay peninsula.
Patriotism, emancipation of woman, the moral code of behaviour
between courting couples are some of the questions entwined
around the central love-theme which conveys the message that
fidelity is the essence of a happy marriage
The author of the novel was Syed Sheikh Al-Hady whose perso-
nality we get the not uncommon combination of the time a writer
-

and a Muslim religious reformer. Hikayat Faridah Hanum was not

only a literary work, it was also a mouth-piece of the reform move-
ment known as “Kaum tyluda” (The Young Group) as opposed to
the orthodox “Kaum Tua” (The Orthodox Group). Islamic reform
in Malaya was actually an offspring of the same movement which
swept the Muslim countries in the Middle East, especially Egypt,
during the 19th century. It was through people like Syed Sheikh
Al-Hady and his colleagues, Sheikh Tahir Jalaluddin and Haji Ab-
bas bin Mohd. Taha that the reformist ideas of Sheikh Muhammad
Abduh of Egypt came to be known and spread in Malaya.
The inspiration in meeting the changes brought about by the
West came mainly from the Arab world, especially Egypt. Unlike
the English educated elite who left very little impact on the Malay
literary works at the time, the vernacular and religious educated,
especially those who had sojourned to Egypt and other Arab count-
ries for higher education, were the people engaged in writing,
translating and running local newspapers. The influence is shown
by the fact that besides expressing their ideas, they also translated
stories and articles which had appeared in the Egyptian news-
papers and periodicals. During those formative years, the news-
papers were instrumental in encouraging literary productivity. Of-
ten the stories were at first serialised in the newspapers before
being published as novels. Very little of English and other Euro-
pean works were directly translated into Malay, many were retran-
slated from Arabic translations of the original. Again, it was the
popular literature, the penny novels, thrillers and adventure sto-
ries rather than the classics of English literature that filtered to the
Malay reading public at the time. The great English literary tradi-
tion had never penetrated the world of Malay writing. Of the few
English-educated writers in the twenties and thirties, none had
shown the tendency to learn from serious English literary works.
The Malay Translation Bureau which was created as part of the

71
Sultan Idris (Teachers’) Training College, the highest seat of lear-
fling in Malay afforded by the colonial government at the time,
published about thirty translations of abridged and simplified
works of well-known English authors. These included Sherlock Hol-
mes series by Sir Arthur Conan-Doyle, plays of Shakespeare, and
Stevenson’s Treasure Island. The publications were part of the two
series initiated by the Translation Bureau — Malay Home Library
Series and The Malay School Library Series. The first aimed at the
general public, especially those who had left school and needed
reading materials for their leisure hours and the second was for
use in the Malay schools as readers and textbooks. The contribu-
tion of the Bureau towards the development of modern Malay lite-
rature is best reflected in the words of the director himself, “We
have spent the last one hundred years in producing reading mate-
rials for children.”4 The Translation Bureau was a dismal failure in
kindling an interest for serious literary works, it was only matched
by its gross neglect to encourage literary creativity, especially in
writing original works. In Indonesia, Balai Pustaka, which was the
Dutch counterpart of the Translation Bureau, had already been
encouraging the writing of original novels and poems starting from
the early 1920’s.
The proto-type of the novel with local characters and back-
ground setting is Kawan Benar (True Friend). Set in the back-
ground of the town of Penang, it tells the story of how a wayward
husband is returned to the right path, back to the fold of his f~mily,
by a true friend. Kawan Benar was followed by a great number of
novels with varying diversity of accomplishments: some were short
and sketchy dime novels, while others, although lacking in good
literary technique, could be considered as serious works. One com-
mon characteristics which underlined the novels at the time was
that they tended to contain moralistic views of the authors.5
Besides the novels, short-stories teaturing local characters and
background began to appear in the newspapers and periodicals by
1925. Actually short-stories had already appeared by 1920, but
these like the earlier novels had as the background setting count-
ries outside Malaya.6 With an increased number of newspapers
and magazines appearing in 1930’s, the number of short stories
also increasecL7 In fact, short stories were a regular feature in the
newspapers and popular journals. They were mainly written for
the entertainment of the readers and subscribers of the news-
papers and magazines in question, but like the novels, they were
also a medium for expressing and moralising social and religious

72
issues. The question of literature as a creative endeavour was
almost never raised. For the short-stories or the novels to be mein-
ingful, they had to convey a message, either social, religious or
political. Hence the prose fiction before the war appeared to be
basically story-telling with a purpose, but without much concern
for technique or aesthetics. The idea of literary criticism almost
never existed at the time. Comments on the literary works were
mostly confined to their contents and moral messages.
The themes predominant in Malay prose between 1920 and 1942
reflect an awareness on the part of the writers for the socio-cultural
changes then taking place in the country. Sometimes, the theme
may be a straightforward love story, but the messages which are
laced around the theme are clearly didactic in nature. Thus there
were themes chiding outmoded parents for forcing their daughters
to marry men of the parents’ choice themes popularly labelled as
-

“kahwin paksa” or “forced marriage”. Themes dealing with the

sufferings of women because their husbands took other wives, a
practice allowed by Islam but with stringent conditions, were also’
popular. These themes simply reflect the view that some of the
tr~ditionalpractices were outmoded: new values and perspectives
would have to be instituted in the situation of social change.
The view was not, however, one-sided. The writers also realised
that modernisation had brought definite benefits to the country.
They could see that materialistic gains could be derived from parti-
cipating in the colonial economic system. And in this respect, the
immigrant Chinese and Tamils had reaped the harvest, while the
Malays had not enjoyed the benefits. But, in their message, they
often stressed that advancement and progress had to be modified
according to Malay and Islamic socio-cultural ethos. Urbanisation
which was taking place in the country had brought many young
village men to town. The writers, while not actually extolling the
virtues of rural life, warned that life in town was full of moral traps
and dangers. Thus many stories were told of how young men and
women had come to grief through falling into the worldly tempta-
tions of town-life.
As a group, those who engaged themselves in writing showed
more consciousness towards moral rather than any other kind of
social problems. And the problems were often viewed in the con-
text of modernisation versus traditional and religious values.
There were few works which may be said to dwell on political the-
mes, and of these there were only a handful which dealt with the
question of colonialism. Themes dealing with socio-economic pro-

73
blems were also few, and of these, they mostly centred around the
comparative backwardness of the Malays in commerce which, in
the eyes of the writers, was th source of wealth for the other
races.
Even from its early days, modern Malay literature has a charac-
teristic in that there was little specialisation among the writers.
Almost everyone of them would write novels, short-stories and
poetry. However, Abdul Rahim Kajai, who is often regarded as the
father of modern Malay short-stories was first and foremost a
journalist. It was in his journalistic capacity that he wrote short-
stories which are representative of the genre belonging to the pre-
war years: they are didactic in theme, dwelling on questions of
echics, religion, and patriotism, and are romantic in approach. It is
significant to note that his heroes and heroines in the stories bear
names in pairs, such as “Jamil” and “Jamilah” or “Rahim” and
“Rahimah” 18
Ishak Haji Muhammad is an example of the writer who, al-
though English-educated and widely read in Western literary
works, did not show that he was really influenced by Western lite-
rary traditions. Ishak was a “rebel” who preferred to work as a
journalist rather than as a colonial civil service officer although he
was trained to be one. His motive was to air his political views and
life philosophy through his writings. FIitera Gunung Tahan (1937)
and Anak Mat Lela Gila (1941), his two significant pre-war novels,
carried difinite anti-colonial political messages under a thin veneer
of fantasy and humour. In them he questioned the integrity and
sincerity of the British in protecting the Malay states and regretted
to see the impotency of the Malay ruling class.
Of the Malay educated writers, mention must be made of Ha-
run Muhammad Amin (who is better known by his pen-name Han.in
Aminurrashid), Ahmad Bakhtiar and Abdullah Sidek. The three of
them, as in the case of others belonging to the same group, were
closely connected with Sultan Idris Training College. Harun and
Ahmad were teachers at the college while Abdullah was a student
there. This group of writers had their inspiration mainly from the
Indonesian writers of the time. Nationalism can clearly be seen in
the works of this group, but this sentiment was veiled and expres-
sed in many diffirent ways. Ahmad Bakhtiar chose to invoke the
greatness of the old Malacca empire by reliving the exploits of its
heroes in a series of historical novels such ~s Keris Melaka. (The
Kris of Malacca), Kurban Keris Melaka (The Victim of the Kris
of Malacca), Panah Beracun (Poisoned Arrow), and Darah Di Selat

74
 Melaka (Blood in the Straits of Malacca). These works are nostalgi-
cally heroic appealing to the patriotism of the Malays. Harun
Mohd. Amin developed the same kind of historical novels after the
War, but during the period under discussion his contribution
lay mainly in a number of short-stories and a novel, Melor Kuala
Lumpur (1930). Abdullah Sidek wrote on a variety of themes, from
a semi-nationalistic novel, Mari Kita Berjuang which is a simple
story of how some unemployed young Malays turned a tract of
jungle into a successful agricultural farm, to domestic themes like
Iblis Rumah Tangga (The Home Wrecker-1938) and NasibHasnah (The
Misfortunes of Hasnah-1940).
Another representative group of writers consisted of those who
turned out light literary pieces such as detective or adventure
stories and tales of love, Shamsuddin Salleh was one such writer.
His works included Bingkisan Rahsia (Secret Message), Rahsia
Yang Sangat Rahsia (The Most Secret of Secrets), Pelarian Yang
Cerdik (A Smart Fugitive) and Tiga Bulan Dalam Penjara (Three
Months in Jail). These novels mainly dealt with the work of th~
police and secret agents in tracking down political activists. Mo-
ther writer belonging to the group was Raja Mansoer bin Raja
Abdul Kadir. He was essentially a journalist and had experience in
running newspapers both in Sumatra and Malaya. His works,
although for light entertaining reading, are not entirely free from
moral preaching. They bear such attractive titles as Satu Kali
Cium Tiga Kali Tempeleng (One Kiss and Three Slaps — 1936),
Tujuh Kali Beristeri (Married for Seven Times — 1935), Apa
Sebabnya Aku Kahwin Dengan Orang Keling (Why I Married A
Tamil Man — 1936) and Cinta Berahi Seorang Pengarang (The
Love Life of A Journalist
— 1935).
While the classical forms of poetry, the pantun and the syair,
still dominated the scene, especially in newspapers and perio-
dicals, a new style in poetic expression had emerged by the middle
of the 1930’s. The main carrier of this new experimentation was
the Malay teachers’ journal, Majalah Guru, whose contributors
came from the ranks of the Malay educated elite, the Malay verna-~
cular school-teachers whose cream were the graduates of the tea-
cher’ colleges, first in Malacca, then in Matang, Perak, and finally
after 1922, the Sultan Idris Training College, Tanjung Malim,
Perak. The experimentations with the new forms which later came
to be known collectively as sajak were inspired by the new poetry
in Malay popularised by the Indonesian writers in the 1920’s and
1930’s. The hall-marks of the sajak are that it is a free-verse and

75
that it is an intimately personalised expression of the poet himself.
These characteristics thus offer a contrast to the rigid forms and
impersonal messages of the classical pantun and syair. However,
it was during the post-war years that the Malay sajak began to
develop its distinctive qualities. In the early years of its develop-
ment, just before the outbreak of the Pacific War in 1942, the sajak
in Malaya still retained the vestiges of the pantun and syair struc-
tures, although the messages had become personalised.
Thus the twenties and thirties were truly the foundation years of
the development of modern literature in Malay.

4. The Third Phase: Current Developments

The three-and-a-half years of Japanese occupation of Malaya
did not produce much literary output but it was during
those intervening years that new meanings and attitudes towards
literature began to take shape. It was really a period of socio-
political awakening in most Asian countries, and Malaya at the
time was no exception~The awareness for one’s own self-respect,
stifled by decades of colonialism, manifested itself in many forms:
political, social, economic as well as literary. One of the manifesta-
tions of Indonesian nationalism was the growth of a modern litera-
ture in Malay pruposefully directed towards promoting Indonesian
cultural consciousness. Such a literature had already begun to take
shape in the twenties and thirties. A closer relationship that deve-
loped between the intellectuals of Malaya and those of Indonesia
under the auspices of the Japanese had opened new perspectives
to the writers in Malaya. While literature, it was realised, could be
a potent tool for socio-political ends, the values attached to litera-
ture were in themselves invaluable in evoking a cultural awake-
ning among the people. In other words, there was a new realisa-
tion that literature need not be the handmaiden of socio-political
motives all the time, for literature in itself promotes higher socio-
cultural values for society. So, while the literature of the post-war
years continued to express the socio-political ideas and ideals of
the writers, it also expressed an acute awareness for its own lite-
rary values and standards. The post-war literature was no longer
incidental to the socio-political situation; it developed as a full part
of the total reawakening in society. It was during this~period that
the Malay novel as a genre achieved its maturity, the short-story
holding its own as a distinctive literary style, the sajak emerging as
the poetic expression of the time and literary criticism becoming a
lively forum not only for literary evaluation but also for discussion

76
on trends and goals of literary creativity.
A significant event which truly reflects the consciousness to-
wards literature after the war was the formation of an organisation
of young Malay writers in Singapore in 1950 called the Angkatan
Sasterawan 50 (in short Asas’50) or the Generation of Young Wri-
ters of the Fifties. In this organisation, young writers who mainly
came from the ranks of vernacular school-teachers and journalists
banded themselves to further the cause of modern Malay langu-
age and literature. It was more than just an organisation; it was a
movement manifesting the new literary awakening among young
Malays. Not only did the organisation stress on the development of
language and literature, but it also expressed definite ideas of
what new Malay literature should aim at, for literature, from the
point of view of this group of writers, should be the guiding light
for the betterment of society, and this is reflected by their slogan:
“Art for Society”. Although its most active period as an organisa-
tion was between 1950 and 1954, the influence of the group lasted
well beyond that and was far-reaching. It stalwarts like Asraf,
Keris Mas, Tongkat Waran, Masuri S.N. and Samad Ismail were
not only models followed by the younger generation of writers, but
they also helped in moulding the growth of modern Malay litera-
ture into the shape it is today. Partly this was because some of
them were at the helm of the important newspapers and periodi-
cals which were the main media for creative writing. Besides
providing the lead in creative works, members of Asas’ 50 were
also active in writing essays and criticism, and were engaged in
polemics on literary as well as socio-political matters.9
In the early post-war years, the novel had a greater appeal to the
reading public. From about 1946 to about 1950 or ‘51, literary acti-
vity continued the patterns of the pre-war days with the novel as
the main literary genre. Among the novelists was Ahmad Lutfi,
who between 1948 and 1950 wrote a series of short novels which
purpoted to carry social comments moralising on the ills besetting
the Malay society at the time. However, the questions were confined
mostly to the erosion of moral standards suffered because of such
reasons as westernisation, poverty and liberal attitudes towards
religious teachings. Ahmad Lutfi was a controversial figure. In
spite of his protestations that his works contained moral teachings
he found ready market because his novels usually included spicy
episodes in the hotel-rooms and on the beaches which attracted
young readers. However, the impact of Ahmad Lutfi’s novels like

77
Pelayan (Waitress), Subuh Di Tepi Laut (Dawn on the Beach),
Bilik 69 (Room 69), Ustazah (Religious Teacher) and many others
on Malay writing had not been much, for they represented the
usual pre-war format of didactic works.
Nationalism was fairly represented in the early post-war novels.
Ahmad Bakhtiar continued his historical novel series with Perwira
Bintan (The Warrior of Bintan), Hang Tuah Di Ayer Masin (Hang
Tuah At Ayer Masin) and Rahsia Keris Putih (The Secret of White
Kris). Others deal with nationalism in a modern setting, like.Seru-
an Merdeka (The Call of Independence 1947) by Salleh Ghani
—

and Barisan Zubaidah (The Zubaidah Movement —1950), by

Hamdan.’°The main characteristic of such works is the idealistic
portrayal of characters: to make sacrifices for one’s country seems
to be the idealistic conception of nationalism. There were also
novels pronouncing what should be the social, economic and politi-
cal ideals for the country. Ishak Haji Muhammad continued writing
after the war. Between 1956 and 1968, he wrote at least ten short
novels which included Jalan Ke Kota Baru. (Road to Kota BAru —

1956), Budak Beca (The Trishaw Rider—1957), Pengantin Baru

(Newly Wed —1958), Mata-mata Sukarela (Volunteer Policeman —

1959), Norita (Norita —1966) and Anak Dukun Derarnan (The Son
of Dukun Deraman— 1967). Ishak deals with themes like the evils
of gambling, unemployment, political development in the country
and other topical contemporary socio-political issues. In style, his
post-war works still retain the pre-war style, but they were not as
incisive as his earlier Putera Gunung Tahanor Anak Mat Lela Gila.
Another pre-war writer who became much more prolific after the
war was Harun Mohd. Amin or Harun Aminnurashid. His works
included Cinta Gadis Rimba (The Love of A Jungle Girl— 1946),
Dewa Lombong Minyak (The God of the Oil Fields —1947), Darah
Kedayan (The Kedayan Blood —1947), Korban Kinabalu (The Sac-
rifice of Kinabalu —1947) and Dayangku Fatimah (Dayangku
Fatimah —1948). All told, Harun has written about 20 novels, but
the most successful are the historical romances, Panglima Awang
(Awang the Warrior — 1958) and Anak Panglima Awang
The Son of Warrior Awang 1961).~which he spun from certain
—

episodes of past history. These are followed by Tun Mandak (1963)

and Wan Derus (1965) with slightly less success.
Besides the old stalwarts, many new names had begun to
appear. Most of these writers were young and were writing for the
first time. But they brought with them new trends and realisations

78
with regard to nevel writing. Hamzah, one of the young novelists,
tried to introduce realism to Malay writing with some success. His
nov~.d,Rumah Itu Duniaku (That House is My World), for example,
brings to the reader the stark realities of life behind the walls of a
rich Arab home often sheltered from public eye and knowledge.
The new Malay novel which appeared after 1960 has shed the
romantic notions found in the earlier works; it often strives to
portray life as it is. often life in its crude realities. Thus the novel
Sauna (1961) by A. Samad Said is named after the prostitute who is
the protagonist of the novel. Salina successfully portrays life in the
slums of Singapore. where man has to live in sub-standard condi-
tions and has to fend for himself amidst poverty, squalour and
deprivations.
Unlike the approach of the older works, the new novels do not
intend to teach or moralise or even to offer remedies, but are
confined to exposing the actual conditions of life, leaving to the
reader himself to draw his own inferences. Thus Markasan’s
Ta Ada Jalan Keluar (No Way out- 1962), for example, tries to
portray human conflict within a family. It tells a story of a woman,
who being deserted by her husbai~,has to resort to prostitution in
order to support her children. But when the children grow up and
realise the kind of life led by the mother, they desert her.
Among the writers who wrote successful novels in the 1960’s
were Shahnon Ahmad, Arena Wati and Abdullah Hussein. Shah-
non’s Menteri (Minister) deals with moral corruption gererally
assumed to be rampant among politicians or even civil servants,
while Rentong (Burnt to Ashes—1965) and Ranjau Sepanjang
Jalan (Obstacles All Along the Way —1966) deal with the miseries
of rural economic life. His novel Protes (Protest—1967) caused
some controversy over certain religious issues that the author
deals with socio-political issues. Terdedah (Exposed—1965) is
perhaps the most interesting because it attempts to deal with the
individual rather than with social issues.
Arena Wati has the distinction of winning the 1967 literary
award commemorating the tenth anniversary of independence of
the country with his novel Sandera. Before that he already had two
significant works to his credit, Gelora (Turbulence—1963) and
Lingkaran (Bindings—1965) besides numerous short-stories.
Abdullah Hussein won a consolation prize in the same competi-
tion with his Interlok (Interlock), a novel dealing with the ethnic
plurality of Malaysia’s population. Besides Interlok, he has to his
credit Janganlah Jangan (Don’t, Please Don’t—1964), Peristiwa

79
(An Episode —1965), Terjebak (Trapped —1965), Aku Tidak Minta
(I Am not Asking—1967) and Kuala Lumpur Kita Punya (Kuala
Lumpur is Our Own —1967).
Between 1960 and 1969, there were 211 literary pieces which can
be classified as novels. But of these only about 140, or about 2/3 of
the total, which can be regarded as works of reasonable quality.
The figure compares very well with the period preceding it: bet-
ween 1945 and 1958, there were only about 62 works which could
be regarded as novels and they were written by about 11 authors.
Another feature of the period after 1960 is the fact that many
women had taken up writing. Khadijah Hashim, another consola-
tion prize winner of the 1967 competition, has a number of novels
to her credit although her forte seems to be the short-story.
Besides Merpati Putlh Terbang Juga (The White Dove Flies Too),
her other novels include Badai Semalam (Yesterday’s Tempest—
1968), Jalan Ke Kubur (Road to the Grave —1969) and Pelangi
Pagi (Morning Rainbow 1971). Salmi Manja is another woman
—

novelist who has written a number of works which include Han

Mana Bulan Mana (Which Day and Which Month —1960), Dari
Mana Punai Melayang (From Where Does the Pigeon Fly 1961), ~-

Hendak Hujan, Hujan SekalI (If It Rains, Let It Rain — 1967), Rin-
dv Hilang DiTapak Tangan (Longing Disappears in the Palm of the
Hand —1968). Other novels by woman novelists worth mentioning
are Seroja Masih Di Kolam (The Lily is still in the Pond—1968) by
Adibah Amin, and Meniti Pelangi (Treading the Rainbow—1964)
by Hamidah Hassan.
It has been said that post-war Malay literature is a literature of
the newspapers. This is to say that newspapers have been the
main medium for literary activity besides the popular magazines.
This is especially true of the short-story and the~’sajak.Today there
have emerged serious journals and periodicals which are devoted
to the publication of literary works and polemics. These include
Majalah Dewan Bahasa, Dewan Masyqrakat and Dewan Sastera
published by Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka, a government agency
charged with the task of developing Malay language and litem-
ture. Others include the Sunday newpapers, Berita Mlnggu,
Mingguan Malaysia and Utusan Zaman, the monthlies Mastika
and Dkzn, and journal~of literary bodies like Penulis and Bahasa.
These publications are supplemented by the popular magazines
which invariably would carry short-stories and sajak among their
other features. To get an idea how many short-stories and sajak
are punlished in a single year, we can turn to the figures for 1971

80
and 1972. In 1971 there were at least 294 short-stories in the vari-
ous newspapers and magazines written by about 115 writers. In
the same year, there were about 1,200 pieces of poetry published.
In 1972, however, there were more than four hundred short-
stories and over 1,500 pieces of sajak published. The rise in 1972
was most probably encouraged by the Annual Literary Award
instituted by the Prime Minister beginning in 1971, and also
because there were many more publications coming into the
market. However, the high figures are not commensurate with the
standards as reflected by the number winning the awards. In 1972,
prizes were given to 15 short-stories and 42 sajak, while in 1972,
only 12 sajak and 12 short-stories made the grade.
Like the novels, the short-stories in the early post-war years
were romantic in approach, mostly dealing with romantic patrio-
tism and nationalism. The change from romanticism to realism in
Malay short-stories was a result of the change in conception to-
wards literature. Writing in Hiboran of 7th January 1950, the
writer Hamzah reviews in passing the development of modern
Malay literature from the time of Abdullah Munshi and then
observes, “Only in the past few months do we observe a new trend
in Malay writing — the trend of realism”. He then continues to
exhort young writers to take up this trend and emulate the post-
war Indonesian writers in this respect. In the same issue of the
magazine, another young writer, Rusmira, also brings up the
question of realism in Malay writing. Rtrsmira too suggests that
contemporary Indonesian short-stories should be the model for the
short-story writers in Malaysia. The views expressed only reflect
the beginnings in the drift from the pre-war style of writing short-
stories which emphasises beautiful language and romantic treat-
ment of the theme to a more realistic and earthy approach.
Some of the works scattered over so many newspapers and
periodicals have now appeared in various collections. To mention
just a few, we have Mekar don Segar (Young and Fresh—1959),
Dua Zaman (Two Eras —1963), Wanita (Woman—1964), Perten-
tangan (Conflict —1968), Patah Tumbuh (Everchanging —1962),
Di Tepi Jalan (By the Road Side — 1960), Daun-Daun Berguguran
(Falling Leaves — 1962), Anjing-anjln,g (Dogs 1964) and Debu
—

Merah (Red Dust 1965).

—

The short-story as a genre shows the fastest development and

improvement in Malay writing after the war. The protagonists of
the new trend like Keris Mas, Awan-il-Sarkarn, Wijaya Mala
and Samad Ismail dominated the short-stories in the fifties. With

81
them the outright sermons, the romantic treatment of heroes and
heroines bearing similar names or the idealistic portrayal of
human character and emotion were no longer in fashion. The new
trend was dominated by the idea to present realistically and
graphically the world of everyday life, especially the hard life of
the under-privileged classes in society. Thus, there is a definite
preference for themes which touch on the struggles of the “under-
dogs” : the unemployed in ekeing out a living in the cities, the
exploitation of the poor by the rich, economic monopoly of the capi-
talists in urban areas, the stranglehold over the landless peasants
by the landowners in the rural areas and the oppressive measures
taken by inconsiderate government officials against the rakyat or
common people. It is apparent that the short-story writers were
still motivated by the desire to redress ills in society: but the issues
had become more sophisticated and quite removed from the
presciptions of moral behaviour of the older authors. The writers
of the fifties had become aware of the social conflicts, but
their awareness was confined to those aspects which they were
familiar with. Most of them became writers after gravitating
towards the big towns to seek employment. Their perception,
although keen and incisive, was often confined to their own expe-
riences and environment. Thus they could write with graphic
details the life among the poorer segment of the Malay population
in the towns, especially Singapore, where writers like Keris
Mas, Usman Awang or Wijaya Mala had migrated to from their
villages on the mainland. The writers thus portray very well the
worlds of labourers, petty-traders, the unemployed but aspiring
journalists or the life in the villages and rubber estates from where
they had hailed. They could see for themselves the visible con-
trasts in real life: the luxurious houses and gardens of the Euro-
pean and Chinese businessmen or government officials as compa-
red to the crowded slum dwellings, grand limousines as contrasted
with the trishaws and bicycles and the difference between jobs in
confortable offices with those done by labourers in the hot sun.
The slogan of Asas ‘50, “Art for Society”, was unmistakenly
mirrored in the themes which predominated as the short-story
remained basically a medium for “social criticism”.
The short-stories thus evolved over the years with new and
younger writers trying their hand at writing with new perspec-
tives of social issues. A well-known young writer at the end of the
fifties was A. Samad Ismail whose cynical style exerted quite an
influence over aspiring writers. Independence of the country

82
opened new vistas and horizons for the younger writers. Short-
stories probing into new situations arising in the newly indepen-
dent country began to appear after 1957. Themes dealing with the
inability of ex-colonial expatriate officers or even local afficers to
understand the changing situations and attitudes in independent
Malaya were quite prominent. Satires and criticism were directed
at the new rising classes of local officers who were replacing the
expatriates, of politicians and parliamentarians who were full of
pretensions and of the new-found rich and class-climbers who
were quick to forget their past stations. There was also a slight
shift to non-social themes among some young writers as exempli-
fied by Shahnon Ahmad. His “Babi Hutan” (Wild-Boar) provi-
des an example of a break from a persistent preoccupation for
society and its issues. In this short-story, Shahnon displays a deep
insight into the irony of human life. Set in the background of an
aborigine community, the work relates the story of a young abon-
gine man going out to hunt for a particular specie of wild-boar to
be used as bride-wealth for a girl in another tribe. He hunts over
the length and breadth of the country without success. Finally he
tracks one down to his own clearing and kills it, but not after the
animal had gored his own mother to death.
Social themes were still dominant in the short-stories in the six-
ties, but the attempt to probe into man himself and themes which
avoided the current social issues came more and more to the fore.
Besides Shahnon Ahmad and Abdul Samad, the other writers who
have left their mark in short-stories are, to mention just a few,
Mohd. Affandi Hassan, S. Othman Kelantan, Ali Majod, Alias Ali,
Anas I’. Hadimadja, Azizi Hj. Abdullah, Yahya Ismail, Nora,
Zakry Abadi and Mana Sikana. The women writers also deserve
special mention. In the early sixties, the names of Salmi Manja,
Anis Sabirin, Rokiah Abu Bakar and Sàlmah Mohsin were perhaps
the best known in short-stories, but today their rank has been
swelled by the addition of writers like Khadijah Hashim, Fatimah
Busu, Zahrah Ariff and others.
It is in poetry or sajak that the break from the past is most pro-
nounced. Although the early post-war sajak still showed traces of
the syair or pantun structure, that is four-line stanzas rhyming
a-a-a-a or a-b-a-b, the shift to free versification was in full gear
by the early 1950’s. The two leaders in new poetry during the
early years were Masuri S.N. and Usman Awang who is better-
known by his pen-name Tongkat Waran. Their poems written
since the 1940’s until today somehow reflect the development of

83
the sajak: from the romantic, idealistic and almost naive expres-
sions in pantun-like poems, they have become bolder and freer in
both theme and form. The change in Malay poetry is a reflection of
the change in society and culture: from a closed feudalistic
Malay society of the past to an open society which forms a
part of the plural Malaysian nation of today.
The development of sajak in so far as it concerns the choice of
theme parallels that the short-stories. Romantic nationalism and
melancholic expressions of fate and fortune predominated at first,
but these were soon taken over by themes of the sufferings of the
rural fishermen, and farmers or the urban workers and labourers.
The influence of Asas ‘50 was clearly to be seen, for the sajak
clearly expressed the concern of the poets for what in their minds
were the injustices in society. Even when the influence of Asas ‘50
was on the wane by the middle of the 1960’s, the preference for
such themes still persisted, especially among the new poets who
usually had their experimentations cyclostyled for distribution
among themselves. By the end of the 1960’s, the variation in
themes had become evident, and the poets began to move away
from the topical social issues. One can clearly see this by browsing
through the sajak columns of Dewan Sastera and other serious
periodicals which carry sajak.
As in the case of short-stories, it is easier now to follow the deve-
lopment of the modem sajak because most of those poets who
count have already published their hitherto scattered pieces in the
form of anthologies. There are few exceptions: we are yet to see
the works of Latif Mohidin, Muhammad Haji Salleh or Baharuddin
Zainal published in collections. Masuri SN. has had pieces publis-
hed in Awan Putih (White Clouds — 1958), Warna Suasana
(Colour of Situation — 1962) and Bunga Putih (Bitter Flowers —

1967); Usman Awang has his in Gelombang (Waves —1961) and

Dun Dan Api (Thorns and Fire — 1969); Rejab Fl. has his earlier
works published in Kebangkitan (Emergence — 1963); AS.
Amin’s pieces are collected in Damai (Tranquility — 1965); Noor
SI. has his sajak in Setonggi Waja (The Steel Incense —1960);
and Suhaimi Hj. Muhammad, who has been the most prolific has
collected his poems in at least six anthologies which include Jalan
Ke Kota Ku (Way to My Fortress — 1959) and Tulisan Di Kamar
Tidur (Writings in the Bedroom — 1960).
Some of the later ones include Terbit Matahari (The Sun
Rising —1972) by Hadzrami AR., Kemarau Di Lembah (Drought in
the Valley—1967) by Kassim Ahmad, which also included some

84
short-stories, Duri Di Kaki (Thorn in the Foot—1971), consisting
of the later works of Rejab F.!., Laut Tak Biru Di Seberang Takir
(The Sea is Not Blue at Seberang Takir—1971) by T. Alias Taib,
Darah Merah (Red Blood —1972) by Jihaty Abadi and Berputar-
putar (Round and Round-1972) by Capt. Muhammad Awang.
There are also general collections of works by more than one poet,
such as Modern Malay Verse (1963) which has English translation
of the poems in it, Himpunan Sajak Dan Majalah Dewan Bahasa,
September 1957—1967, which contains poems published in Dewan
Bahasa over the decade, 1957-1967, or Laungan (Loud Yell—
1967) which contains works by six young poets.

5. The Future
Literature in Malay has always been responsive to the socio-
cultural conditions around it: as a passive reflector of society as
found in the classical literature, as a medium for socio;political
expressions in the 1920’s and 1930’s and as a vehicle for socio-
cultural awakening in the post-war years. With the departure of
colonialism and the gaining of independence for the country, no
ethnic or cultural group in Malaysia can live in compartments as
had been the case during the colonial times. The racial riots of
May, 1969, have taught the peoples of Malaysia that socio-cultural
integration is imperative for Malaysia’s future. While the various
ethnic groups may continue to live as sub-cultures within the tota-
lity of Malaysian society, there is an urgent need to develop a na-
tional culture which transcends and integrates at the national level
of the various sub-cultural groups. Literature can play a useful
means in encouraging the development of a national culture, and
literature in Malay can fulfill this role easily, not because it is a
literature using the national language of the country—Bahasa
Malaysia, but more important, because it is built on a tradition
indigenous to the country and has developed a vital modern tradi-
tion which fits into the needs of the nation.” Starting from the early
1960’s there already had been works which attempted to portray
life beyond the confines of Malay society and to encompass the
whole of the Malaysian social scene. The trend has become more
pronounced: not only are Malay writers widening their horizon but
more non-Malay writers and artists are now participating in lite-
rary creativity, including dramatic and other related arts, through
the medium of Bahasa Malaysia, the national language. It is only a
natural process therefore to find literature in Malay today trans-
forming itself into a truly Malaysian literature.

85
Notes
1. For classical Malay literature. see Mohd. Taib Osman. “Classical Malay
Literature: A Brief Survey”, Asian Pacific Quarterly of Cultural and Social
Affairs, Vol. III No. 3 (1971), PP. 51 — 70.
2. Abddulah bin Abdul Kadir, The Hikayat Abdullah, trans. and ann. A.H. Hill.
Kuala Lumpur (Oxford University Press). 1970.
3. For an account of this period, see Zainal Abidin bin Ahmad. “Modern develop-
ment,” Journal of the Malayan Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society. Vol.
XVII, Pt. 3 (1939).
4. Abdullah Sanusi Ahmad, Pejabat Karang-Mengarang (Malay Translation
Bureau) an unpublished academic exercise in the Department of Malay
Studies, University of Malaya, 1960. p. 65.
5. For a description of novels during this period, see Zainal Abidin bin Ahmad.
“Recent Malay Literature”, Journal of the Malayan Branch of the Royal
Asiatic Society, Vol. xix. Pt. 1 (1941).
6. For ctudv. of the short-stories before the Second World War, see Hashirn
Awang’s (2erpen Melayu Sebelum Perang Dunia Kedua (Malay Short
Stories Before the Second World War) an unpublished M.A. dissertation in the
Department of Malay Studies, University of Malaya. 1972.
7 For an account of Malay newspaper and periodicals before the Second World
War, see Muhammad bin Dato’ Muda Lingqi, Tarikh Surat Khabar (The
History ofNewspapers). 1940.
8. His short-stories have since been published in Collections Banyak Udang
Banyak Garam (published by the Geliga Press, Singapore,) and Pustaka
Kajai (published by Qalam Press, Singapore).
9 See Memoranda Angkatan Sasterawan ‘50, Kuala Lumpur, 1962. -
10. For a comprehensive list of works published between 1945 and 1967. see
Li Chuan Siu, Ikhtisar Sejarah Pergerakan dan Kesusasteraan Me!ayu
Modern, 1945 - 65, Kuala Lumpur, 1967, pp. 509 — 521.
11. See Mohd. Taib Osman, “Towards the Development of Malaysia’s National
Literature,” Tenggara No. 6 (1973).

86
5
CONTEMPORARY MALAY POETRY

“We do not want to retain the old style (of poetry), we do not want
to sing the seloka and the gurindam like our fore-fathers did; we
want to create new forms which are worthy of the spirit of our
time “ — so said Armijn Pane in the August issue of the journal
Poedjangga Baroe in 1933. Armijn Pane was one of those young
Indonesian writers in the twenties and thirties who were consciously
forging new traditions in Indonesian literature. The new form,
generally known as sajak, came to be the main poetic expression of
the modern Indonesian literary tradition since before the Second
World War. The same words, so aptly expressed by Armijn Pane,
could easily have been uttered by the young Malay writers after the
Second World War, for it was in the post-war period that the new
poetic style or sajak came to be the favourite form of literary expression
besides the short-stories.
For ages poetry had been mainly expressed in the form of the
traditional quatrain called pantun or in the form of narrative poetry
consisting of four-line stanzas known as syair. (There are also
other traditional forms of poetry known as seloka, gurindam,
talibun etc.). Although attempts to break away from these traditional
styles can be traced back to the nineteen-thirties, it was not until after
the Second World War that sajak came to be a dominant feature in
Malay writing. The early influence came from Indonesia: the sajak
of early Indonesian poets like Armijn Pane, Amir Hamzah, Rustam
Effendi and Sanusi Pane became the first models for the young

87
Malay poets in experimenting with new verse styles.
Sajak, however, does not refer to a particular poetic form; it
refers to the free style of verse-writing. The term is normally used
for modern poetry so as to distinguish it from traditional poetry. Thus
the term sajak is almost synonymous with “free-verse”. It is not only
in fQrm that the sajak differs from the rigid structures of the pantun
and syair, but it is also in the underlying concept towards poetic
expression itself. The traditional pantun, which in its original form is
an oral poetry, is usually ready-made, like a proverb, to be quoted
when an appropriate occasion arises. The syair usually relates a
story or a philosophical thought using continuously four-line stanzas
and extending sometimes over hundreds of pages.
The .sajak, however, takes any form the poet wishes, according
to the fanci~sof his own creative skill and expresses the personal and
intimate thoughts of the poet himself. Looking at it another way, the
sajak does not merely reflect a change in literary tradition; it, in fact,
symbolises the change experienced by Malay society and culture as
a whole, from a closed to a more open socio-cultural system. Any
change is usually marked first by a transitory character. Similarly with
Malay poetry, the early sajak clearly shows the traces of the pantun
in structure. But the ideas expressed have become personal, reflecting
the awareness of the young poets, not only of their own feelings and
attitudes, but also of the new things and changes occuring around
them. Above all, they seem to be conscious of thier own role in such
a situation. They look upon themselves as a new generation cons-
ciously striving for a change, and change will come only when the
old is discarded.
This fact is clearly stated by Masuri S.N. when he wrote (in
1947) “Angkatan Baru” (The New Generation):
Berlepas barisan angkatan baru
Melangkah gerak maju sedia
Merentak melebur ikatan dub
Merentak putus belitan jiwa.
Bangun semua, para peiwira
Dan gunung terjun menurun
Menuju laut idaman sukma
Tiada peduli arab bersusun.
TranslatiQn: (Unless otherwise stated, all translations from
Malay are the writer’s own. He has tried to keep as close as pos-

88
sible to the original meaning).
The New Generation steps out
Stepping forward with readiness.
To snap loose the bindings of old,
To sever the knot that strangles one’s spirit.
Wake up. all braves
From the mountain rush down
To the sea which is the choice of the soul
Ignoring all obstacles in the way.
In structure the two stanzas quoted here are reminiscent of the
pantun style, but in content it represents the young poets trying to
break away from old traditions. This poem is straight-forward; the
exhortation for the new generation to step forward is stated in a
matter-of-fact manner. Gone are the floral imageries of the pantun.
imageries based on common experience of men and age-old word
symbols like flower for a damsel dan bee for the young lover. In
their place, come images from the poet’s own thought and imagination.
In a later sajak called “Tiada Peduli” or “I don’t Care” Masuri
is defiant and says that he does not care what others think of his
own convictions and ideals. Here he defies those of the older
generation who are sceptical of the new poetic experimentations of
the young writers and those who do not share his ideas.
This time I don’t care;
The anger at night of waning stars,
Although others are indifferent,
On one principle, whether clear or hazy,
I stand firm.
Gone are the influences of the Pantun structure in this poem,
and the expression has become more individualistic and bolder.
The second line shows some attempts at imagery, but the rest of
the lines are straight-forward, although rather prosaic. The problem
of sajak in its early years of development is in a way exemplified by
this stanza by Masuri.
The problem is twofold: on the one hand the modern sajak is
often too prosaic that it tends to lose its poetic character, and on
the other, the imagery can become too personalised that it be-
comes obscure in meaning. The question of obscurity in sajak was at
one time a subject of an unending discussion among Malay writers
and critics. However, the fault was not only on the side of the poets

89
but also on the side of the reading public. Now that the audience is
more familiar with sajak. the complaint is heard less and less.
Modern Malay verse has only a few years behind it. but it has
come to be the main poetic expression today. The number of young
people trying their hands at writing sajak keeps increasing. The main
media for sajak are the newspapers. journals and magazines. The
three major Malay Sunday newspapers. Mingguan Malaysia. Berita
Minggu and Utusan Zaman. have regular columns featuring two to
four sajak in each issue. Monthly journals, weekly and fortnightly
magazines also have special columns for sajak in every issue. A
recent trend is to publish collections of sajak by an individual poet or
by a number of poets. (A short list of these collections is given at the
end of this article for those interested in modern Malay poetry).
The young post-war Malay poets are not so much concerned
about the technicalities of poetry writing as they are about things
and events happening around them. Conscious as they are of their
art, they do not write poetry just for the sake of writing poetry. To
them poetry is an expression to present their thoughts and ideals —
thoughts and ideals which are more often than not related to the
happenings around them, whether local or abroad. A modern Malay
poet is not very interested in expressing his own personal emotions
or problems unless they are related to wider social or universal
questions. He is more of a thinker, directing his thoughts to the
questions and problems of his society and the world at large. That is
the reason why Malay poetry today appears to be a little too topical
in the choice of themes.
Take, for example. the sajak by Usman Awang written in 1949
called “Jiwa Hamba” or “The Servile Spirit”, which says in part:
Ponder a while in a moment’s silence.
The soul is empty. without spirit.
In life, it is felt as if enslaved.
Only the voice rises high.

The wheel turns, and time flies

Life on earth takes many shapes
As long as to live with a servile spirit
It is certain that we are forever enslaved.

If there is a desire for independence.

It cannot be achieved by words alone.

90
 But try to surge forward,
And throw far away the servile spirit.

Remember the words,

Of a great leader,
And on the remains of Malacca Fort,
We inculcate the spirit of independence.
This is an expression against colonialism, and it is clearly
expressed without trying to be too “poetic”. Before independence,
themes like the one here were the favourite among the poets.
Compare this to the hopeful tone of Samad Said’s sajak called
“Pada Tanah Yang Indah” or “To The Beautiful Land”, which
also deals with the question of independence, but in a different
time setting.

To our bright eyes the first clear rays appear,

and I crave the freedom of my love,
In my yearning heart, as calm as the pool of love,
I promise loyalty to defend our beloved land.

Should violent storm threciten this fair land,

I shall not retreat one step, nor admit defeat,
Let a million bullets fly,
seeking revenge upon their victims,
for our beloved land my heart is constantly ready.

As the days pass, love grows rich in my heart,

An iron will grow, away with the colonialist
Our love united, dark vengeance suppressed,
how I long for the bright dawn to break.

With all my heart I love my motherland,

I pledge her vow to serve unto death.

— Quoted from Modern Malay Verse, Pg. 83

After the country has won its independence, the young poets
turn their attention to themes which reflect their deep concern for
the conditions in the society. They display a sense of social justice.

91
They try to bring out the sufferings of the poor or they hit out at the
opportunistic politicians.
As an example we may take a poem by a writer who calls himself
Zulastry — “Sebuah Pondok Buruk” or “An Old Dilapidated
Hut”.
The first stanza reads:
Our house has no walls,
only a piece of roof.
Night brings cold but we
never weep
To tread the steps-one
side falls
And friends walking in front,
pretending not to notice.

Again, the message is clear, but the poem as a whole appears to

be a little prosaic. A more sophisticated approach is to be seen in
Kassim Ahmad’s sajak which is in the form of a dialogue between
a mother and her son:
Rest in peace, my son
Although our rice-fields are floodeä.
This rain comes from God.
A blessing which pours down in deluge,

And day comes, as if it does not bring light,

Listen,
The toads have ceased to call
Tomorrow will bring sunshine.
And our padi will flourish again.

Sleep. my mother sleep.

We are insignificant people,
We toil during the day,
Night brings us worries.

Tomorrow comes, ushering with it the sun,

Then I shall go,
Together with a thousand rebels,
the sons of soil,

92
 For so long we have lost our soul in servility,
Now we rise to live, though as rebels.
This is a voice of one who is at conflict with the existing order,
and wants to rebel. The theme is still topical, but the style shows
maturity. It is difficult to portray anything representative of the
contemporary Malay poetry for it is actually wide and varied in
theme as well as is style.
But surveying the sajak from 1960 onwards, one is struck by the
improvement shown in the craftmanship of poetry-writing and a
maturity in the choice and treatment of the themes. Although the
concern for social justice and the urge to expose the ills of the society
are still evident, they are no longer expressed in a blatantly prosaic
manner. Take for example a part of “Balada Gadis Tani” or “The
Ballad of a Peasant Girl” by Dharmawijaya, written in 1967:

Today and tomorrow are fraught with miseries,

but the wails and cries are lost to the
realisation
that life is increasingly craving for humanity,
and that those who are humane are only pretending.

So, said the peasant girl to the world,

that everything she enjoys and possesses
is but a minute piece of the golden prosperity
enjoyed by her beloved leaders in Parliament.

Modern poetry in Malay has only a short tradition behind it

compared to the pantun and the syair. But it has become a symbol
of the dynamism of the new generation in creating new ideals and
concepts in Malay culture today. The young poets realise that theirs
is a role to lead and not to follow, and they are aware that as poets
they will leave their mark. This is aptly expressed by Hadzrami AR.
when he compares the poets with a river in a poem written in 1964
called “Di pinggir Sungai Jelai” or “By the Banks of River Jelai”.

The great poets

whose works like the flow of River Jelai
Sacred, continuously flowing in all seasons.

93
 On the banks of River Jelai
The dusk yesterday was so peaceful
This morning, it is enveloped in mist.

The birds move from branch to branch

whistling while swooping down for food
And the fish dancing in the water.

The practising poets

live like the river
Ever flowing toward the Eternal Sea.

A selected list of anthologies of modem Malay poetry in the fifties and

sixties.
Au Haji Ahmad (ed), Puisi Baharu Melayu (Zaman Permulaan), Dewan Bahasa
dan Pustaka, Kuala Lumpur. 1959.
Au Haji Ahmad (ed). Puisi Baharu Melayu 1942-1969. Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka,
Kuala Lumpur. 1961.
Kassim Ahmad, Kemarau di Lembah, Saudara Sinaran, Penang, 1967.
Masuri SN., Awan Puteh, Pustaka Nasional, Singapore, 1966.
Masuri SN., Wama Suasana. Oxford University Press, Kuala Lumpur.
Masuri SN., Bunga Pahit. Oxford University Press, Kuala Lumpur, 1967.
Masuri SN., Setanggi Waja, Malayan Publishing I-louse, Singapore, 1960.
Rice, Oliver & Abdullah Majid, Modem Malay Verse, 1946-61, Oxford University
Press, Kuala Lumpur, 1963.
Samad Halim (ed), Sajak-sajak Angkatan Baharu, Sinaran Bros., Penang, 1957.
A, Samad Said, Liar Di Api, Federal Publications, Kuala Lumpur, nd.
Usman Awang, Gelombang, Oxford University Press. Kuala Lumpur, 1963.
A Wahab Au at al, Larangan, Federal Publications, Kuala Lumpur, 1966.
Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka, Himpunan Sajak Dan Majalah ‘Dewan Bahasa’
Sept. 195 7-1967, D.B.P., Kuala Lumpur, 1969.

94
6
SAJAK OF 1972

The sajak in 1972 saw a marked increase in quantity, but to the

panel of judges charged with the taks of selecting those works
worthy of Tun Razak’s annual literary awards (Hadiah Sastera) for
the year, the rise in number was not matched by the quality of
poetry produced.
Hard as they tried, and with so many arguments among them-
selves, the judges could only arrive at a conscensus on thirteen out
of some 1,728 pieces that they had to scrutmise during the year.
The previous year, they recommended 42 poems for the award out
of some 1,322 pieces.
With last year’s experience of reading over a thousand pieces
and a lot more the following year, the judges have found them-
selves on more solid ground to judge the work of our poets. Criti-
cism levelled at the choice for last year’s awards also helped in
moulding the criteria used by the judges. They have become per-
haps more stringent and critical in judging the technique of the
poets, both established and aspiring, known and unknown.
Speaking generally, the sajak in 1972 displays little imagination
or experimentation on the part of the poet. The trend pointed out
by Samad Ismail in the short stories is also very evident in the
sajak, that ~s, there is a strong tendency to imitate the styles of
established or well-known poets rather than striking out for one’s
own original creativeness.
The stamp of Usman Awang, Kemala or Samad Said is too appa-
rent in most of the sajaks: sometimes one is left with the impres-

95
sion that the sajak is written rather hurriedly. A good proportion of
the sajaks is to be found in the cyclostyled collections published by
local writers’ groups.
Usually, it seems that such poems are written during gatherings
held at the seaside or at workshops for poetry writing. Some of
these sajaks do show potentiality, but they usually remain unpolished
and raw.
Young poets tend to regard poetry as expressions spurted in
moments of inspiration whereas they should realise that an impor-
tant ingredient in poetry is deliberate craftsmanship.
There is no real harm in using figures already used by other
poets, like the “seagull” or “camar” used by Kemala, but if all
that the poets can draw out of the animal kingdom for their ima-
gety are the oft-repeated “camar’~ “pipit” or “gagak’~ then
something must be wrong somewhere.
Usman Awang, commenting on diction in the sajak of 1972, looks
unfavourably at the common current practice of repeating the first
syllable of the word to imdicate plurality. Thus “pepohon” for
pohon-pohon”~“jejarum” for “jarum-jawm” and so on.
One can understand Usman Awang’s concern over the prevalent
tendency to imitate the style of others, but it does seem that the
style of repeating the first syllable of the word to denote plurality
is coming to stay in Malay poetic style. What was once “poetic
license” has now become a “poetic convention,” and who knows,
it may even -one day find its way into daily usage because of its
brevity.
Two significant points need to be noted. First, out of the nine
poets whose sajaks won the awards, three — Mohammad Hj.
Salleh, Rejab F.I. and Latiff Mohidin — had won last year and
two — Kemala and Jaafa H.S. — are well-known in the sajak
circle. The rest are not actually newcommers, for although they
have won for the first time, their names are often to be found in
the sajak columns of the newspapers and magazines. It should also
be mentioned that one of the winners, S. Mala, is from Sabah.
The other point is that, all the thirteen winning sajaks are form
publications known for their serious attitude towards literary pro-
ducts. The judges find that only in the major Sunday newspapers
like Berita Minggu, Utusan Zaman and Mingguan Malaysia and in
publications like Dian, Dewan Bahasa, Dewan Masyarakat, Dewan
Sastera and Penulis, that one can hope to find poems of relatively
high quality.
One can go on pointing out the shortcomings of the sajak in

96
1972, but to flog the flaws is sterile and unproductive. Usman
Awang, himself a practising poet, has dealt at length with some of
the common mistakes made by the young poets in the Malay
papers. One .may not agree with every word he says, but nonethe-
less he has provided some useful pointers for the young writers to
take note of in improving their craft.
It would be useful therefore to comment on some of the prize-
winning poems. One of the cnticims levelled at the choice of
sajaks for the 1971 awards was that most of those chosen were
simple and could easily be understood.
Certainly one of the criteria which the panel holds dear is that a
piece of poetry is not a jigsaw puzzle nor a detective game. The
poet, through his work, should be able to communicate with his
audience. The piece of poetry may be simple, clear in message and
purposeful, but it must contain the ingredients which make it an
artistic piece of work. In theme, the subject need not be too philo-
sophically profound, but it should not be too trite or common-place
either.
Take the poem by Latiff Mohidin, who alone won three of the 13
awards, called “Sianak Rimba” (Jungle Dweller): it is a short,
simple and rather straightforward piece of work. Yet after reading
it, one is left with an intriguing experience as to what has been
said.
di sudut muzium
akhirnya
kutemui wajahmu
sianak rimba
yang hilang.
segempal him
segenggam kapas
kau sekarang
berdiri di antara bukit
sungai pohonan unggas
keras dan kering
berdiri di sudut muzium
akhirnya
di dalam lemankaco
sianak rmmba
lemas dan terasing.
Irony seems to pervade in this piece of poetry: the incongruity of
a jungle dweller, removed from his natural environment, standing

97
in a showcase at one corner of the museum. And the once energe-
tic lively jungle-dweller is now reduced to a “lump of wax and a
fistful of cotton”.
In fact the poet is trying to tell us more than just that. He leaves
us-with an impression of the inevitable, that-is change and moder-
nisation will surely one day overtake the people of the jungle. But
even then there is irony in it: the inevitable modernisation will
make people wish for the original carefree world of the jungle-
dwellers.
The sajak appears simple, but it is one example where words
are chosen and weighed so purposefully that every word is mea-
ningful. The last line, especially, conveys a powerful impact with
the words “lemas” and “terasing”.
Another seemingly simple poem but a deep one is “Batu-batu”
(Rocks) by Muhammad Hj. Salleh, a poet well-known for his dexte-
rity in both English and Malay. At the moment, Mohammad is
away in the U.S.A. working on his Ph. D in Comparative Litera-
ture. It is at Nevada that Mohammad was inspired to write his
“Batu-batu”.
The common eye may see only a pile of rocks, but what the poet
discerns is more than that. He finds that there is an order in the
pile of rocks, just like man living in an ordered society.
Batu-batu mi ada masyarakatnya-
tegçik atau berbaring di kakilangit.
mereka hidup dan mati
dalam undang-undang batu.
And to him the rocks seem to be alive, as they stand against the
horizon, one on top of the other, surprisingly not in confused
disarray but following some set rules.
dengan alun dan ombaknya
ketul-ketul tegak sendlrl
megah mematahkan benang
di antara langit dan bumi.
And the rocks come alive for they seem to know that wherever
they stand, they are in a position dictated by the natural laws of
their own being.
yang besar di atas
yang kecli di bawah
yang besar akan jadi kedil
yang kecib akan bebih kecil
yang iatuh dan atos pecoh

98
 yang tertahan dengan hati batu,
yang kecewa dan kecil di dalam bayang:
mereka tau tempatnya,
faham akan undang-undang wujudnya.
Thus with such forthnghtness, Muhammad has not only been
able to project some meaning, something to be thought of out of
a pile of rocks and boulders, but he has also exploited the language
in its simplicity by not at all trying to be pedantic.
Rejab Fl. who, like Latiff and Muhammad, had won an award
last year, wins this time with a simple poem, reflecting solitude,
“Kesepian”. Right from the first stanza, Rejab draws our atten-
tion to the fact that solitude can be “heaven” as well as “hell” to
man, but it is inevitably ever-present in our lives,
kesepian adaIah
sebuah syurga
sebuah neraka
berbunga kasih dan resah
dalam kuntum-kuntum penghidupan.
Solitude can be an antidote when one needs to think over prob-
le~ns.It can bring peace to restlessness like the “invigorating
dew” or “soothing wind”.
kesepian adaIah
kuntum-kuntum embun segar
bayu kemesraan
mawar kedamaian.
There is a fair sprinkling of religious poems in modern sajak wri-
ting, and they are mostly found in religious orientated publications
like Al-Islah and Utusan Kiblat.
Even Warta Jabatan Agama Johor, the publication of the Reli-
gious Affairs Department in Johore, carries two to three sajaks in
every issue. Most of these sajaks seem to be mere exhortations
that they often lose their poetic qualities.
However, among the winning sajaks of 1972, there is one which
touches on religious sentiments. Most of the religious sajaks tend
to be evangelical, but “Melalui: Pikir, Mata, Telinga dan Lidah”
is free from the usual pretensions.
The poem is written by Marhan, quite a familiar name in the
sajak world. It is a- simple poem, but it tries to encompass what
God has endowed man with: his mind, eyes, ears and tongue. The
mind has the strength to make life in a society orderly and
meaningful. The eyes, the ears and the tongue are given by God to

99
mankind. If they serve man well, then they too should be made
to serve God.
What is attractive about this poem is its tightness: every word
conveys a definite meaning and every imagery evokes a clear
picture. Thus the mind is like the twinkling stars in heaven
(“pikirku adalah bmntang-bintang yang mengerdip”). And the
perceptive eyes rove over the poles and heaven.
mataku adalah arasy nan luas
di perjalanan kutub dan ufuk
And the sensitive ears are like a tape-recorder, taking in every
conceivable sound, from the rustling wind and thunderous waves
to the noises coming from every crack and crevice.
Telingaku adaiah pita rakam
di desir angin dan deru ombak
menyehmnap dan meresap
ruang-ruang yang terbuka
The tongue can be of such strength and will, ‘Ike fire and wind,
burning and destroying even fortresses.
Lidahku api dan angmn
membakar dan meruntuh
istana dan mahhlgal
The religious sentiment — that all which is endowed by God is in
actuality for Him is simply expressed in the final two lines:
—

Ilahi: Rabbi
jiwaragaku untuk mu.
Besides Latiff Mohidin who won three prizes, Jaafa HS and
Kamala won two each. Both of them work with Dewan Bahasa dan
Pustaka and are active in literary activities. They both win for the
first time, although their names are already well-known in literary
circles.
Jaafa’s winning poems are “Diruang Yang Sempit Ini” (In this
Confined Space) and “Satu Han Bernama Esok” (One Day Cal-
led Tommorrow). The first poem deals with the poet’s cynical
observation of the suffocatingly depressing atmosphere of a hospi-
tal ward. He talks of the loneliness of the sick, and he senses that
the ultimate loneliness is death itself, when whatever one posses-
ses or loves is left behind.
tiada siapa yang berteman di sini
telah ku hihat betapa-seorang lelaki pergl
meninggabkan tangis kekasihnya
namun dia pergi jua

100
 He sees the shadow of death always stalking and lurking in the
hospital ward, and he feels helpless and restless.
bayang-bayang kematian semakln menglsl ruang
yang sempit mi
untuk menemul mereka
yang klan lama terbaring dalam kebuhan dan resah gehisah
tanpa rasa setla.
The strength of the poem lies in the powerful way the poet con-
jures up the image of helplessness and foreboding in a hospital
ward. The subject may at a glance appear gloomy and dark, but
the skill of the poet does not make it so.
In “Satu Han Bernama Esok”, Jaafa tries to project the world of
tomorrow. He is fully aware of what is to come wher~school-books
give way to computers and students using automatic pens powered
by electricity.
Ya
anak-anakku ke sekolah tanpa buku
tapi mengepit komputer
bersama pena otomatik digerak kuasa betrik.
He also envisages that in days to come, the lives of men will be
dictated by machines. It is the machines who will decide whom one
should love or befriend.
pemimpmn mereka adaiah mesin-mesin
kira kata mesin dia kekasih diabah kekasihnya
kira kata mesin itu setia itubah setianya
The poet is neither worried nor apprehensive of the future. He
accepts it as inevitable, and he is fully aware that the norms and
values of today will give way to those of tomorrow. Thus family
loyalty will no more be held dear by the future generation, and he
is willing to accept this.
satu han bernama esok
aku akan relakan anak-anak untuk tidak menyapa
kerana setianya bulçan untuk setltls darak keluarga
But personally to the poet, there is a tone-of-regret, for he fears
that the world of tomorrow may lose its humanity or godliness.
Thus he concludes his poem with a d~terrnia~ation that at the time
“love poems cease to have any meaning,” hewÔuld still attempt
to make “his world sing.” And in such a confusing world, he
would still stand for “godliness” amidst the machines and corn-
puteis.
tika puisi-puisi nndu enggan bicora apa
kan kucuba juga mengajak duruaku mers~ars~n

101
 dalam kabus-kabus pagi aku berdiri
bersama sebuah komputer kunamakan iman
mereka satu bentuk
bakal kunamakan tuhan
Kemala’s two poems which won prizes are “Laut” (Sea) and
“Meclitasi” (Meditation). In the former, which appeared in Dewan
Bahasa (July, 1972), Kemala pictures the sea in its many aspects.
The sea is first personified as a beautiful girl sleeping peacefully
on her bed (“gadis cantik tidur diperaduannya”) and then as a
virile youth mellowed with age (“pemuda tangkas asuhan
waktu”). As a beautiful girl, the sea is the picture of eternal calm-
ness, in spite of the waves rolled by the wind.
Aku baut
sisik-sisik riak ditubuhku
lukisan detik dan tarian angin
bersatu drgemersik angin saujana ketenangan mi
And as a virile youth, the sea is a picture of force and energy,
as it crashes against the rocks.
gelegak ombak menjadi kata
dew menjengkau ufuk muzik terdampar ke benteng karang
lalu kenal din.
In the third and fourth stanzas, Kamala talks of the sea in the
light of the day and in the darkness of the night. During the day,
we find the sea-gull singing, and the scene evokes the feelings for
lasting eternal love.
Siang pilihan
menyimpulkan seloka camar
berlabu sejarah kudukung bahasamu
akulah laut pertama pemupuk cinta abadi
The darkness of the night finds the sea churned into fury as it is
possessed by the storm:
Malam pertaruhan badai perkasa memeluk hadirku
The reflections on the sea are carried on to the last stanza where
the poet talks of the sea as a meeting point of many things. And
finally, the poet finds in his heart an acute awareness or self-
respect.
Kqsih sayang nenek tua, matanakal cucu
bertemu di sini
angin jauh mencani harmoni
tergetar bibir di dalam tafsir
di sini: di hati mi kekasihku
merupakan harga din.

102
 The other poem by Kamala is “Meditasi” (Meditation). It has
many special qualities not found in other sojaks. It is a long poem
published in a small booklet of 31 pages.
The theme is a meditation on love which began at dawn one July
morning. It is actually a rambling thought, although well sustai-
ned, traversing all kinds of experiences in love, touching on the
famous love affairs in history — Julius Caesar, Cleopatra and
Mark Anthony, and on to Lord Byron. The actual message is quite
elusive as the poet flows from one trend of thought into another,
but the reader can see that the thread which runs through the
whole tapestry is a comentary on love.
Such a long poem will not easily find space in the newspapers
and magazines, and that is the reason why such a piece of work is highly
rated in modern sajak writing. Kamala had shown consistency
throughout the long work, choosing the words carefully for poetic
effects. The poem begins with love and ends with love.
meditasi berm ula dan cinta
tersimpul kini dalam suatu
kesetiaan, suatu keindahan
meditasi
lalu diakhirnya menjadi ~alengkap
dengan catatan yang kuasuh
dengan jiwa
tubus kudus
pengenaban
pengertian Cinta!
“Tiada lagi Gema Seruling” (No Longer the Flute Resounds)
deals with a subject one would think rightly belongs to the sociolo-
gist or the economist. But Ridzwan M.S. proves that such a mun-
dane subject as the exodus of youths from the kampung, if viewed
from poetic eyes, can be expressed in a beautiful way. It is the only
sajak published by the newspapers to win an award this year, the
rest are from the journals and magazines.
Ridzwan pictures vividly the village scene deserted and lifeless
without its young man.
Sumunbendang kehilangan
pondok surau sunyi sendini
kahi-kahi mengahin sepi
beberung piana ti imbau-mengimbau
There is a constant worry in the village that without its young
men, work will be at a standstill when the season for planting
arrives.

103
 Hati berkocak pabila musim tiba
tiada siapakah membanti~ngtulang
di sawah-sawah bendang
However, the responsibility will be carried out by those remai-
ning. And there is hope that the padi-field will be as green and the
ripened rice will be as golden.
Namum hakmilik adalah tanggungjawab
untuk dibebai diteroka
semogakan hijau dedaun padi
kuning mebambai buahnya.
The poet ends his poem on the hopeful note that the young men
will return for the harvest, bringing with them tales of their expe-
rience in the city and longings for the loved ones left behind.
mungkin
entahkan esok busa
rangmudakan pulang bersama gunau senda
bensama cenita kota,
bersama dedebar nindu di hati yang terusap belai
dana melambai
Semoga
kan bebih meriah musim menuai
Again, it is simplicity that makes this sajak attractive. One is
heartened by the optimism expressed, for usually sajaks dealing
with such a subject would rather harp on the darker rather than the
lighter side of the subject. The tone of the sajak is light and the
flow is lyrical. Ridzwan has been able to exploit the various aspects
of the village scene to his advantage without tiying too hard. The
village life without its young men is so aptly expressed right at the
beginning of the sajak: the flute no longer resounds in the village,
as its young men are away abroad.
Desa itu tiada lagi gema serubing
rangmudanya tebah diperantauan.

104
7
TOWARDS THE DEVELOPMENT
OF MALAYSIA’S NATIONAL LITERATURE
When Malaysians held celebrations on the 3lth of August last
year, it was not as ‘Independence Day’ as in the years since the
Federation of Malaya achieved independence, but as ‘National
Day’. We also no longer shouted the slogan ‘Merdeka’ but ‘Ber-
jaya’ instead. Such changes are essentially symbolic, calculated to
bring about changes in our perceptions, attitudes and emotional
responses.
The changes were made with a full awareness of the political
developments in Malaysian society. The cry ‘Merdeka’ was most
appropriate during the struggle for independence, but new needs
arose which made it no longer adequate simply to revive the
memories of the struggle. It was necessary to develop new attitu-
des which woukLprovide a greater assurance for national viability.
The need felt at present is to create what is popularly labelled the
“Malaysian Identity”. This need, we must realise, is of the great-
est importance, for it will bear eventually on the viability or other-
wise of the Malaysian nation. The urgency of this need was never
so clearly felt as after the occurrence of communal riots in May,
1969.
Malaysia’s viability as a nation must be built upon two basic
realities:
‘(1) Although Malaysia is a young nation, she forms part of a
historical continuity of this region involving the majority of the
population, namely the indigenous population;

105
 (2) As part of the same historical continuity, there exists a
plurality of cultures within the nation, partly brought about by the
immigrant communities.
From the viewpoint of cultural anthropology, a culture is a sys-
tem of symbols. Man, compared to the other animals, is the most
efficient maker and user of symbols. Man communicates the most
abstract things in the form of symbols. Thus symbols are often
used to represent abstract ideas which in themselves are not
visible or tangible. Many aspects of nations building are abstract
in nature and therefore have to be conveyed through symbolic
means.
In the hustle and bustle of everyday living, such notions as
nation or country are often forgotten, but men ultimately organise
themselves to conduct their living within the sdcial units we call
“nations”. The viability of a nation as a social unit depends much
on the projection of its own identity. The question of national iden-
~ity relates to symbolism, because in itself it is not visible except
through symbols. It is important, especially for newly independent
nations to project such an identity externally as well as internally.
Therefore, a country’s national identity is made visible through
symbols such as flags and emblems and symbolic behaviour such
as singing the national anthem or celebrating the “national”
occasions.
The symbolic objects and behaviour not only make as aware of
our national identity, but also enhance our emotional response to
something which otherwise would remain abstract. Thus through
the symbols, the abstract notion of nationalism can spur us to
heroic deeds and sacrifices. One of man’s symbolic modes of
expression which help to promote national identity may clearly be
seen in the arts.
There seem to be two important factors which tend to restrict
efforts to build national identities among newly independent
nations. Firstly, the socio-cultural differentiations existing within a
nation, and secondly, the unavoidable impact of the socio-cultural
influences left by colonialism together with the influence of the
universal culture imbued with western ideas and values. The two
factors are related to the historical background ,f the country in
question. The first factor can be found in almost all the newly inde-
pendent countries which were once under Western rule. In Africa,
for example, the national boundaries are often inherited from the

106
areas of influence of one or another of the Western powers, and
within such boundaries are to be found ethnic groups and cultures
which never had anything in common to justify the social unit into
which they were put by the western colonialists.
In the past, most of these groups were organised into individual
communities such as tribal or other local groups. Even though
there existed sophisticated socio-political units as those found in
Dahomey or among the Ashantis, these were not widespread, nor
did they have the basic concepts or administrative machinery
which are essential to a modern nation of today. The presence of
immigrant groups residing in some countiies poses more complex
problems as these people create deeper socio-cultural differences
within a nation. The second factor can be seen in countries where
strong western influence had been in such ascendency that the
local cultures tend to be valued less and less, except as museum
pieces. One interesting example is Ireland where the English
language is so strongly entrenched in daily life that efforts to
revive the use of Gaelic by the nationalists proved to be a dismal
failure.
As a developing country Malaysia faces similar problems in her
search for national identity and in attempts at nation building. The
two factors mentioned above exist in Malaysia. It cannot be denied
that Malaysia emerged as a nation based on the territorial area
which once was part of the British Empire. Even before the advent
of British rule there had already existed a local population consis-
ting of groups which among themselves shared common historical,
ethnic, linguistic and cultural ties. The indigenous population of
the region has similarities and affinities with people beyond the
confines of the political boundaries of Malaysia. The common
ethnic and cultural ties identify an area which was once known as
the ‘Malay Archipelago’ and is now known as ‘Nusantara’. The
social units which existed before the founding of modern nations
like Malaysia, or Indonesia, were organised on kinship, local ties
a~1’dsultanates, which formed the most sophisticated type of socio-
political organisation. Although the ethnic or cultural groupipgs
differed from one another in matters of detail, they nevertheless
shared many common traits and characteristics.
Besides the indigenous population, there exist also sizeable
immigrant communities who have their own characteristic langua-
ges and cultures. Although some have long settled in the Malay
Archipelago, — that is even before the colonial period — the

107
majority of them migrated from their homelands in the wake of
western colonisation. These immigrant groups did not assimilate
with the indigenous population as they lived in separate communi-
ties, and having only functional relationships, generally very limi-
ted in volume as well as in frequency.
It must be mentioned that those who have long been here, like
the Baba Chinese and the Chettiars of Malacca, have already
absorbed the local cultural elements during the process of accultu-
ration. The same can be said of the Chinese in certain parts of
Indonesia. But the majority of the immigrant population still retain
their own cultures and way of life. As they form part of the bulk of
the Malaysian population, their cultures too are to be considered
as one of the many cultures which exist in Malaysia.
In the context of such a situation, suggestions have often been
made for the formation of a Malaysian culture by uniting the
various cultural elements together. But this view is untenable as it
does not meet one important condition in the growth of a culture,
that is the question. of time. It is impossible to expect a Malaysian
cultt~reto take shape within a very short time. What should be
done now is to think out plans from which a culture can develop
and grow into what can be accepted as a Malaysian culture in the
years to come. At the present moment, astrong colonial influence
still prevails and most of the dominant socio-cultural values still
smack of western dictates. This influence is clearly seen in evalua-
tions in the field of the arts: whatever comes from the West is
regarded as superior, so much so that the local and indigenous arts
are condemned to thrive as best they can among the village folks.
As a developing country, Malaysia’s problem is not to establish
whether or not there exists at the moment a national identity, but
rather to make the effort and face the struggle to build up this
identity. It must not be thought that the achievement of such an
identity would mean that the country would have a single mono-
lithic Malaysian culture. The concept of a homogeneous culture is
only applicable to small, simple and isolated societies which hardly
exist anywhere today.
When the anthropologists analyse a simple or tribal society, a
picture if a homogeneous culture emerges. In such a society,
patterns of behaviour, world-view or weltanschauung, ethos and
social organisation show a high degree of uniformity. In fact very
little socio-cultural differences can be observed. Between indivi-
duals, there is little difference in behaviour, thoughts and the
things communicated. Such a society stands in contrast to the

108
modern nation as a social unit: a modern nation forms a complex
community consisting of smaller groupings. An individual can
belong to more than one of these smaller groupings based on local
or regional settlements, religious affiliations, ethnic groupings,
social classes or even occupational categorisations. An individual
can belong to more than one of these smaller groupings since they
overlap.
In the context of a nation as a whole society, the smaller social
grouping can be termed subcultures or subsocieties. The country’s
natural institutions such as the common educational system,
government administrative departments, common financial,
economic and legal systems, the army and the police and so on bind
all the groupings and affiliations to the national whole. Other than
these, the arts,political ideology, religion, sports, philosophies and
the mass media which transcend the subcultures, can also act as a
factor in binding the various subcultures into a single national
community. The linking of various subcultures among themselves
or between them and the nation as a whole occurs at various levels.
The highest level of such socio-cultural integration can be said to
occur at the national level.
An anthropologist, Julian H. Steward, has suggested a way of
looking at a complex society, that is by recognising the various
levels of socio-cultural integration. He points out that the arts
represent one of those cultural entities which might occupy a place
at the highest level of socio-cultural integration i.e. at the national
level. However, as it has always happened in the history of man,
the arts which are highly valued or are recognised as the national
arts have always been the product of the upper classes. And this
has prompted Julian H. Steward to say, “National culture is too
often conceived solely in terms of those aestF~eticand intellectual
achievements which in many societies are understood only by the
upper classes and which may be little known to the illiterate, isola-
ted folk communities”. (see his book, The Theory of Culture
Change University of Illionis Press, Urbana III. 1963, p. 73.)
The history of Malay/Indonesian culture clearly illustrates the
point raised above: the ars and a~hievementsof the upper clas-
ses, i.e. those belonging to the Kraton or the palace, had always
been projected as the representative culture. The simple creations
of the common people or the folk culture of the Nusantara regions
had often been ignored until lately. If the arts of the contemporary
upper classes (an entity still open to interpretation) were to be con-
sidered as representatives of the Malaysian culture, we may find

109
them unpresentative of a Malaysian identity. Such works may
appear to have more international identifications than national
ones, and moreover they still show characteristics of a colonial
stamp. Therefore full consideration should be given to the kind of
works which can play their part at the national level of socio-cultu-
ral integration. The concept of Malaysian national literature is only
a part of the whole issue.
Literature is one of the most important cultural expressions in
linking the various subcultures in the prçcess of socio-cultural in-
tegration at the national level. Compared with other forms of
expressions, literature uses language as the medium, which is a
form of communication par excellence in the life of a society. Al-
though other forms of arts like painting, music, carving and dan-
cing reflect the peculiar qualities of a culture, they perhaps do not
evoke a high sense of indentification compared to literature. It is
easier to identify the literature of a society or its relationship with
the society to which it belongs, than to perform a similar task in the
case of painting.
The comparison may be just a matter pf degree, but since langu-
age is easily identified with a group of people, it follows that the
arts in the medium of language evoke a greater emotional res-
ponse. In other words, literary products prove to be more effective
and play a more important role in socio-cultural integration at the
national level than most other forms of art. The other reason why
literature plays an important rule in this issue of national identity
is because of the unique function of literature in society. Literature
is not only a form of art, it is also a form of expression which mir-
rors and projects the social values, and the aspirations of the
people. In literature which is handed down from one generation to
the next is embedded, in symbolic form, the cultural values, and
ideals of the society. Therefore it is important in the process of
socialisatidn of an individual in the society. Socialisation is a social
process during which an individual learns directly or indirectly to
play his role in his society. It is a process of transforming a biolo-
gical being into a social one.
If we are fully aware of the fact that nationalism can be inculca-
ted through socialisation, we should realise how literature can play
an important role in promoting national consciousness. Therefore,
the need to conceptualise what is a Malaysian national literature
assumes greater importance, especially with regard to its own
development, for such a literature can be a most important agent

110
in cultivating the Malaysian consciousness and identity in our
young generation.
The characteristics of the population in Malaysia, the historical
background of the country, and the relationship with the neigh-
bouring countries are some of the factors which have influenced
the character of the literature found in Malaysia. These factors are
important in discussing the concept of Malaysian national litera-
ture.
The people of Malaysia are made up of the indigenous groups on
the one hand and the immigrant groups on the other. The cultures
of the indigenous groups are native to this part of the world. These
cultures may differ from one another, but on the whol~they are
cognate cultures sharing the same historical past, similar environ-
ments and the same bases in South East Asian civilisation. The
immigrant groups, although they have been subjected to new envi-
ronments and influenced somewhat by the local cultures and new
relationships, still retain to a high degree the cultures of their
countries of origin.
The types of literature found in Malaysia reflect the character of
the Malaysian population. The traditional literatures of the immi-
grant groups consist of those carried over from their countries of
origin. Meanwhile there are also works written in the new Malay-
sian environment. Since these are written in the languages of the
particular groups, they can hardly be recognised as Malaysian lite-
rature, even though their content has some relevance to this coun-
try.
Besides the works written in Bahasa Malaysia which is the offi-
cial and national language of the country, there are also other lite-
rary forms of expression of the various indigenous groups. But of
these, only those in Bahasa Malaysia have shown greater vitality
and have developed consciously in keeping up with times. How-
ever the literatures of the other groups, noticeably those of the
Iban dan Kadazan, has shown glimpses of similar developments.
As these writings are native to Malaysia, they are easily recogni-
sed as such.
The literary scene in the country is very much influenced by the
historical experiences of the people. The most recent experience is
colonialism. An important heritage of this is the wide use of the
English language in the country. Although the English language
and literature were foreign to both the indigenous and the immi-
grant groups, they were the most influential means of linguistic
and literary expression at one time.

111
 During the colonial days the ability to use the English language
was the main factor in determining a person’s social and economic
status. Being well-versed in English literature (or other aspects of
Western civilisation) was enough to distinguish a cultured or
learned person from an ignoramus. In fact, the English-educated
elite occupied a special status which continued even after Indepen-
dence. It was this elite group which struggled to maintain the sta-
tus-quo of English so as to preserve their own interests. They even
unabashedly tried to project their literary works as Malaysian
national literature, even if their claims were made indirectly.
The challenge from this group must be taken seriously, because
such an attitude is quite prevalent still among Malaysians, that is
to regard things connected with the West as superior to things
local. Furthermore, since technological progress is often equated
with western civilisation, there is a lopsided view with regard to
measuring a civilisation primarily on the strength of its techno-
logical achievements.
When such a view-point has become entrenched, it is natural for
prejudices against local cultures to be sustained. For example
without even knowing about local literature, it is already assumed
that it is inferior to Western literature. Whether such a view-point
is right or otherwise, the local literature is ignored by such people.
That is the reason why the concept of a Malaysian literature must
first of all overcome such prejudices.
History before the period of colonialism i.e. before 1786 or 1819,
represents a decisive factor in giving character to the development
of culture generally and to literary activities in Malaysia and
throughout the Nusantara. Malaysia’s own history is only a few
years old, but the history of the indigenous peoples and their cul-
tures in Malaysia goes back thousands of years. The factor divi-
ding the different cultures in the area is the contact with external
influences like India, the Islamic world, China and the West. There
are groups which had very little contact with outside civilisations
and therefore foreign influences have left very little impression on
them. However, there are groups whose cultural developments are
characterised by the acceptance of elements form foreign civilisa-
tions.
Groups belonging to the first type usually dwelt in the intenor,
while those of the second type lived along the coast. Hence the
cultures, including the literature, of the groups belonging to the
first type manifest little change and variation compared to those of
the second type. These is no question as to which one is more mdi-

112
genous and which is not, for even though the cultures of the
second type absorbed elements of foreign civilisations, the deve-
lopment of these cultures, e.g. Malay, Javanese or Balinese cul-
tures. show a process of development shaped by indigenous
foundations and environments. In actual fact, it is the character
found in Malay, Javanese and Balinese cultures, that is, cultures
developing through a process of borrowing and synthesis of
foreign and local cultures, which should be made the model for the
further development of cultures in Malaysia. In anthropological
terms, such a process is known as acculturation, that is, a process
of grafting foreign elements onto the receiving culture harmoni-
ously over a long period of time.
From the point of view of the development of culture, the histo-
rical background of this region should be regarded as a more
important factor for consideration than the historical period begin-
ning from the period of British colonialism or even the period
beginning with the formation of Malaysia. This is because the civi-
lisation in this region has crystallised over hundreds of years since
the dawn of history in this part of the world.
Admittedly. it is the Western civilisation which is the most
dominant in the world today, and it is an important factor in sha-
ping our own civilisation now and in the future. This cannot be
denied as our own past experiences have shown. What, for exam-
ple. is Malay culture today if we take away those elements which
had been absorbed from the Indian civilisation and the teachings
of Islam for hundreds of years? Yet, however extensive and how-
ever dominant the influence of outside civilisations may have been
on the local culture, the resultant civilisation has been shaped by
local cultural forces. A long penod of time must have passed before
any meaningful fusion between the two acculturating cultures
could take place.
That is the model we must take when considering the possibili-
ties of the growth of our civilisation in time to come. Hence the
future development of Malaysian literature must be founded on
the traditions already existing among the indigenous peoples of
Malaysia and the literary products which had a continuous exis-
tence in the Nusantara region for hundreds of years, while at the
same time this development should be open to suitable influences
from the outside.
With the exception of Thailand, Malaysia’s neighbours are ex-
colonial territones. The political boundries of these states are inhe-
rited from the colonial territories. But the cultural and ethnic

113
affinities of the population of these states transcend these national
boundaries. The vital factor to consider now is the fact that Indo-
nesia and Malaysia have a common language as their national
languages. The decision to adopt the Malay language as the uni-
fying language for the peoples of Indonesia who have their xvn
regional languages and cultures is perhaps the most momentous
dicision made in the history of this region. It is spoken by over 120
million people who give meaning and value to their choice and use
of the language.
One of the results of this factor has been the birth and growth of
a modern literature in this language. The development of this lite-
rature has a significant meaning in the development of the civilisa-
tion of the peoples of Nusantara. This literature is not simply a
superior literature compared to the regional literatures or cultures,
norjust the product of an elite, nor simply to tool to encourage the
spirit of nationalism. It is in fact a manifestation of a force or
energy for creating new bases upon which a new civilisation can be
founded. This new civilisation will have to accept Western influen-
ces, but it has to be shaped by the matrix found in the indigenous
civilisation of Nusantara. This view is thus opposed to the idea of
developing a Nusantara civihsation based mostly on Western
values and orientations.
Although at this juncture, such ventures manifest attractive
possibilities, their strength is based on materia! rather than spiri-
tual orientations. A clear example of this is to be seen in an over-
balanced and disproportionate emphasis given to science and
technology, an emphasis on overwhelming economic wealth, or on
values based entirely on considerations of utility. This is the view-
point which would make us only look forward and not backward in-
to our past history.
On the other hand, the new civilisation which will arise, based
on the local civilisation, will also satisfy material need for techno-
logy and science are not the prerogative of the West only, as has
been shown by Japan. And such a civilisation has an advantage as
it is also based on spiritual values. As an example, we can take the
influence of modern Indonesian and Egyptian literatures on Malay
literature in its early formative years.
We note that English literature left little mark on anything at all
of the artistic creativity of the Peninsular Malays at the time when
there was a vacuum in literary productivity among them. What
Happened was that, modern Egyptian and Indonesian literatures
made their impact because they contain elements easily recogni-

114
sable in Malay culture where it concerns literary creativity. Al-
though there were tendencies to copy some of the Western literary
products, as it was a fashion during those times to regard things
Western as “civilised or modern”, what took place was that Eng-
lish literary traditions found no reception in the cultural develop-
ments of the Malays at the time. On the other hand, the Egyptian
and Indonesian literary products were accepted.
As a nation, Malaysia has its own characteristics with regard to
its indigenous population. It is inherited from the history of this
region before and after the advent of Western colonialism. In the
pre-colonial period, the pattern is best viewed from the cultures of
the indigenous groups themselves; there are those which had
absorbed a lot of foreign elements, like the coastal Malay culture,
and there are those with a veneer of foreign influences. The indi-
genous groups in Sabah and Sarawak consist of the Kadazan, Du-
sun, Bajau, Sulu, Iban, Bedayoh, Kenyah, Melanau, the coastal
Malays and so on. Although all the groups can be said to belong to
a common cultural base, belonging to a common family of languag-
es (the Austronesian), they have developed many distinctive
cultural traits and items among themselves. Every group has its
own traditions in literature (mostly oral), and these have functions
in the context of their own cultures.
What is meant is that, the literature has a function, in the
anthropological sense, in the cultural life of the members. Liter-
ature is not regarded as merely the artistic creation of an individu-
al to be evaluated by the critics. That is a phenomenon found only
in complex societies, where social stratification as well as special-
ization (division of labour) are clearly to be seen. In those societies,
the evaluation of the arts is strictly confined to only those having
high artistic qualities, and referred to as “Great Literature” and
“Fine Arts”.
Literature which is directed at the public for commucial ends is
not included in such categories, but called “Popular Literature”.
In other words, in a complex society, distinctions are made bet-
ween what is regarded as Literature with a capital “L” and Litera-
ture with a small “1”. In societies where there is already self-cons-
ciousness towards “Great Literature”, the traditional literature
which exists among the lower classes or groups in the outlying
areas is often overlooked and bypassed. Even if it is given
attention, it is studied as a part of the local culture or as “folk
traditions”.
Not much of the traditional literature among the indigenous

115
groups in Sabah and Sarawak has been collected so far, let alone
studied. What is known comes from the notes of the ethnographers
and anthropologists who have been studing the societies and cul-
tures of the indigenous peoples of Sabah and Sarawak.
The literature of the indigenous peoples of Sabah and Sarawak is
no different from similar literatures of Nusantara. The various
forms of literary expressions fulfil different needs in the social life
of the people. Myths about Gods, supernatural beings, culture-
heroes and sacred saints (kera mat) form the foundations of their
beliefs or religious systems. Aetiological tales relating the origins
of the world, flora and fauna in their environment explain the
rituals and festivals connected with harvesting and so on. Pro-
verbs, riddles, songs, dirges and customary sayings are not
merely beautiful expressions, but are meaningful and provide the
framework for desired behaviour in society. But more important,
such literary expressions, whether narratives or otherwise, are
manifestations of the peoples’ weltonschauung (world-views)
and ethos (soc~alvalues) of a culture.
The relationship between the realities of everyday life and the
creation of literature is shown through symbolism. The symbo-
lism is not only the language used for literary expression but also
the characters and actions which reflect such values as good/bad,
rough/fine or beautiful/ugly, and concepts such as sacred!
profane, truth/falsity, cleanliness/dirtiness, nature/man-made as
measured and conceived in that society. In short, to really under-
stand a culture, one must unravel all the symbols expressed in lite-
rature, dances, songs, rituals and other forms of symbolic action
in the society.
So what we get in Sabah and Sarawak is that each indigenous
group has its own traditional literature. Besides knowing his own
literature, the native of Sabah and Sarawak may also have a know-
ledge of English literature because it is part of the school curri-
culum. Now when literature in Bahasa Malaysia is introduced to
schools and colleges, it is not only known to the Malay students but
also to other children. Besides, there is the Borneo Literature
Bureau (now taken over by Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka, Sarawak
and Sabah Branches) which publishes traditional literature translated
either into Bahasa Malaysia or into the other languages.
When there is enough interaction between the various indige-
nous groups (and other groups as well), there will be enough
opportunity for the literatures of each group to be made known to
the others. In this context, with Malay as the traditional lingua

116
franca in the past and now as the national/official language of the
country, there is every opportunity for literature in Malay to be
known widely. Bearing in mind that the indigenous groups have
the same cultural bases, it is not expected to be a great problem for
the other indigenous groups to understand and appreciate the lite-
rature in Malay.
Through social communication and education literature in the
Malay language in Sabah and Sarawak developed on the same
lines as in West Malaysia which in turn is influenced to some
extent by developments in Indonesia. It is undeniable that a new
literature in Malay has developed in Sabah, and to some lesser
extent, in Sarawak, and in effect, it is part of the same pheno-
menon as the general development of modern Malay literature in
the 20th century in West Malaysia.
Many common features are to be seen in Sabah and Sarawak on
the one hand and West Malaysia on the other: there are writers
who consciously create literary works in forms distinguishable
from the traditional ones; there are self-conscious discussions on
these new forms of literature; there are organisations and groups
involved in literary activities; and finally, the literary works are
disseminated through the mass media, especially newspapers and
magazines. And there is contact between the literature of Sabah
and Sarawak and West Malaysia, especially through the writers
themselves. Quite a number of writers from West Malaysia have
settled down in Sarawak and Sabah since the Second World War.
In this section, I try to discuss the relationship between the lite-
ratures of the indigenous groups and the literature in Malay, for
the question here touches on the interrelationship between the
indigenous literatures and the concept of Malaysian literature.
One is reminded of parallel questions involving writers in Europe
in the past. The rise of nationalism in Europe had caused the Euro-
pean writers to seek inspiration from works reflecting only the natio-
nal identity and character of their respective nations. A significant
point is that some of these writers had found inspiration in the
traditions of the humble folk, the peasantry who lived away from
the cultured centres of their nations. Irish writers like John Mil-
lington Synge and William Butler Yeats emerged as great authors
in world literature because they were successful in capturing and
recreating in new idioms the humanistic values of the folk tradi-
tions of the Irish peasantry. There was no question of their wanting
to turn the clock back or inhibit the modernization processes of
their peoples. Here lies the difference between using traditions to

117
seek out new meanings for the present and the attempts to revive
them out of nostalgic and romantic notions of the glorious past.
The literature in Malay will be further enriched and become
meaningful if it were to take in elements equally indigenous from
the literatures of the other indigenous groups. This would not
mean that we are going back into past history. Rather we would
recreate the indigenous elements by giving them new meanings
and purpose in our efforts to build the new culture in Malaysia in
the times ahead.
In practical terms, efforts to introduce the traditional literatures
of the Muruts, Kadazan, Dusun, Bajau, Sulu, Iban, Bedayoh, Ke-
nyah and Melanau must be redoubled. The first step is to collect
and transcribe the literatures, which at the moment exist mostly as
oral traditions. The collection of oral narratives and other literary
forms with ethnographical notes about them must be in the origi-
nal languages and later archived. Efforts must be made to render
them into Bahasa Malaysia, but such renderings must retain their
original characteristics. And these renderings must be turned into
school readers to be used as part of the literature courses in
schools. In this way the social values and weltanschauung in these
literary pieces can thus be transmitted to our younger generations,
because among them will emerge new writers for the Malaysian
literature of tomorrow.
As for the writers of the present generation, they should not just
look upon these traditional literatures as curiosities. They should
try to draw deeply from these literatures and understand why they
have survived all these years. In this respect, the writers in Sabah
and Sarawak are in a better position to exploit the situation as the
materials are much richer in those areas than in West Malaysia.
That is really what is expected from the writers in the interests of
the further development of Malaysian literature.
The situation described above is the result of many factors which
we have discussed. The picture we get is that in a new emerging
nation there are to be found various forms of literary expression:
literature inherited from the colonial period written in English,
literature of the immigrant groups written in their own languages,
the traditional literature of the various indigenous groups existing
for hundreds of years, and literature in Malay which has developed
fqr centuries and is now forging new and modern traditions.
It is without doubt that the literature in Malay is the most logical
choice to provide the foundation for the further development of
National Malaysian literature.

118
 This is not merely because Malay as transformed into Bahasa
Malaysia is the national and official language of the country. The
more important reason is that, compared to other forms of litera-
ture, it has the necessary advantages to make it the foundation for
the future development of a national literature for Malaysia. It has
a long history, a tradition nurtured within the environment of the
indigenous peoples of the region, and this tradition develop and
grows meeting the needs of the times, and most important, at this
crucial stage, it is sensitive to the socio-political situation of the
country. Besides, it has a close relationship with the literature of
Indonesia, our closest and most important neighbour.
The last factor is important in strengthening the spiritual bonds
in Southeast Asia, which hitherto have been projected in terms of
a common historical past and common cultural bases among the
different peoples. The traditional literatures of the other indige-
nous groups have an important role to play in the conceiving of
further developments of Malaysian literature because they too had
grown and developed within the local environment. We have
already discussed the interrelationship between the indigenous
literatures. What should be emphasised is the fact that of all the
indigenous literatures, only the literature in Malay has developed
to a point where it has forged a 20th century tradition, the growth
of which parallels socio-political developments in the country.
Indirectly it has been stated that the national Malaysian litera-
ture has already existed, that is the literature wirtten in Bahasa
Malaysia. But the role of the traditional literatures, either in Malay
or in the other indigenous languages, in developing the new tra-
ditions of Malaysian literature has not been fully recognised or
realised. To have a strong tradition as base is important in the
development and growth of a culture. This does not mean that the
culture will develop solely on what it inherits: a culture is dynamic
and it changes from time to time.
The tradition as the base provides the background which gives
character to further development. At least, the traditional indige-
nous literatures provide the historical depth for the national litera-
ture, its origins, its development and its changes in a long path of
time. Moreover, although Malaysian literature has already existed
in works in Malay, the concept we must build for a national litera-
ture must not stop at that.
As the use of Bahasa Malaysia as the national and official
language of the land will not eradicate the other languages in the
country, similarly the drive to develop a national Malysian litera-

119
ture does not mean that literatures in other languages will disap-
pear. Besides literature, there are other culture expressions like
songs, dances or drama which will continue to flourish in the
subcultures because they fulfil the socio-cultural needs, have
meanings and functions in social life of the groups. Similarly with
the literature in English: although it is often regarded as the direct
inheritor of the colonial literature, it still provides spiritual satis-
faction to certain groups, including expatriates who, for some
time to come, will still apparently be involved in business, indust-
ries and the plantations in the country. The short span of time
since Malaysia achieved its independence is not sufficient to eradi-
cate attitudes and view-points nurtured over the last hundred years
or so, and moreover, we cannot ignore the dominating influences
of the West today.
Two view-points are often expressed when discussing national
Malaysian literature or other arts. The first rejects as Malaysian
literature and art forms those which are alien to the indigenous
traditions. Such a view does not consider the fact that a culture
usually enriches itself through borrowing and absorbing elements of
other cultures with which it has come into contact.
In our country at present, not only are the cultures of the immi-
grant groups in direct contact with the indigenous cultures, but we
are all without exception exposed to the popular arts and entertain-
ments which prevail all over the world today, such as pop music,
abstract paintings, songs by the Beatles, Western popular litera-
ture and so on. If we can accept on radio and television dances,
songs, music and film from countries as diverse as Germany,
U.S.A., Britain and Japan, we should be able to accept the artistic
expressions of those who live within our own borders. But it would
be misplaced if such artistic expressions are projected as national
Malaysian arts.
What can be said is that the literatures of the other subcultures
can contribute to the development of national literature which
must, however, be based on literary products grown and nurtured
within the environment native to this country.
The second view is that the national Malaysian literature can be
created by fusing the literary elements from various literatures.
The most facile example ever suggested is a poem in a mixture of
English and Malay. Such a view does not understand the nature of
cultural developments, and treats culture like a chemical mixture
or a rojak. The fusion of elements alien to one another needs a base

120
from a particular culture so as to give character to the resultant
development of the fusion.
In the history of Nusantara, we have observed that in civiliza-
tions referred to as the “Indian period” or “Islamic period”, there
is an acculturation of foreign and local cultures, such that the end
result displays its own stamp and mark. This means that the civili-
zations during those periods in history differ in character from the
civilazations of India, Persia or Arabia during the same periods.
Thus, it is only by having the base in the literature in Malay, and
also by having the other literary traditions making their appro-
priate contributions that a traditional literature in time to come will
develop its ow~stamp, projecting the Malaysian identity.
The growth of a wholesome Malaysian culture, that is a culture
which is able to create meeting points for the various subcultures
of socio-cultural integration, will take a long time to materialise.
The national system of education, given through the medium of
Bahasa Malaysia, for example, will not leave any imprint until
after 1983, that is if it is implemented as expected. But the span of
time taken will be the crucial formative factor ultimately, and not a
hindrance, for time will decide whether the seeds planted will
grow into strong healthy plants with roots firmly implanted in the
soil on which they grow. It is equally important that during this
time we choose and select which seeds are worthwhile and which
are not for it is these seeds that will give rise to the character of the
national culture reflecting national identity.
The concept of a national Malaysian literature is one of the seeds
for this objective. Although each subculture and group in the
country will have its own form of literary expression, what is the
national literature is the one accepted by all as their own literature.
Such literary products will link the peoples of Malaysia at the
national level of socio-cultural integration, but the other literatures
will live and function at the subcultural level of socio-cultural
integration.
In actuality, the seeds for the national Malaysian literature are
already planted and growing, that is the literature in Malay. But
further growth will have to be nurtured through a conceptual
framework, far wider than we have at the moment, so that in
future it will really provide a lingking system between the subcul-
tures through works regarded as the “Great Literary Tradition” of
the country.
The development of Malaysian national literature must give rise
to a high-quality literature which is not only rich and varied, but

121
also one imbued with the values, weltanschauung and aspirations
of the people. Such a literature will not materialise if the writers
themselves are alienated from the existing traditions, for these
traditions form a bridge between what has passed and what is to
come. In this context, the history of Malay literature from its
origins to the ijresent day must be made the basis for the education
of our budding writers and the intellectuals in our society.
What is meant by literary history is not merely an exposition of
its growth from one point in the time scale to another; it should be
a picture of contribution and change in ideas, social values, art
forms and writers’ aspirations, and all this related to the social
conditions of the time. Besides that, the traditional literature of the
indigenous groups should be widely disseminated through Bahasa
Malaysia, and made compulsory reading in schools. Literatures in
other languages, bearing Malaysian themes, should be translated
into Bahasa Malaysia, so that these works will further enrich the
national literature.
The concept of a national Malaysian literature will not achieve
the desired aims if the literary works do not reach the common
people as widely as possible. Thus a literature in a language wide-
ly used by the people will have a better impact than one in a langu-
age whose use is limited to certain segments of the people only. As
literature is a more effective transmitter of social values compared
to other arts, it is an important agent of socialisation. It must be
emphasised, therefore, that national Malaysian literature must be
taught as an important subject in schools, that is, as a subject
which will help in nurturing the awareness of a Malaysian identity
in the younger generation.
The concept of Malaysian national literature will have need for
works which are sensitive to the problems of national development
in the widest sense of the word. On the other hand, art becomes
sterile and insipid’if controlled. For a healthy growth of art, there
must be freedom for the artists to create their works, that is,
freedom bounded only by a sense of morality and humanity.
Therefore, there must be a balance between the need to be sensi-
tive towards national developments and the need to encourage a
healthy developement of artistic endeavours. There must also be a
place for “popular literature”, like detective stories, mystery novels,
adventures and light romances.
Finally, what can be regarded as the ideal Malaysian works
would be those which in the context of the Malaysian environment
could pass the test of being “Great Literature”. And to have this

122
tradition of “Great Literature”, there must be an elite which takes
upon itself the task of preserving and nurturing highly literary and
artistic values in the national literature. In other words, at the
highest level, that is at the national level of socio-cultural integra-
tion, we get serious works of high quality which encompass the
works found in the subcultures. One of the measurements needed
for literature at this level is its sensitivity to the national issues and
national development, especially in terms of spiritual develop-
ment. In this respect, we cannot ignore the important contribution being
made by the present literature in Malay in its role as the base for
the future development of Malaysian national literature. The
literature in Malay reflects the seriousness and sensitivity of the
writers towards the upheavals and issues of the society at large.
The themes chosen by the writers in Malay range beyond thOse
found in Malay subculture only, but encompass issues and problems
found in the Malaysian society as a whole. One can easilysee this through
the sajak, short-stones or novels in Malay written since 15 or 20 years
ago.
For Malaysia, which is a developing nation with a population of
many cultures, the need to project a national identity among its
peoples in the years to come is a crucial problem. Artistic works
can contribute towards the efforts to build up the identity. Of all
the arts, literature seems to be most useful and effective: firstly
because it uses language which is the medium of communication in
everyday life, and secondly because literature can be an important
socialisation tool for individuals in Malaysian society, as in literary
works are to be found, in symbolic forms, the social values, Weltans-
chauung and life aspirations of the culture which gives rise to it.
Thus there must be a thinking towards the development of
Malaysian national literature. Factors such as historical back-
ground, the population character and relationship with the neigh-
bouring countries have given rise to many types of literary works
in Malaysia. But those works which are native to the soil should
be the bases for further development of truly national Malaysian
literature in years to come.
The development of Malaysian national literature appears to be
one of the many processes through which a new civilisation based
on local cultures will rise in this part of the world. Of all the litera-
tures of the various indigenous groups, the one in Malay seems to
be the most logical one to be taken as a base for further develop-
ment of Malaysian literature. This is not only because Malay has
been chosen as the official/national language of the country, but

123
there are two other more important contributory factors. Firstly, if
compared to the other indigenous literatures, it is the one which
has shown continued development, since centuries ago, and at the
moment it is forging a new tradition which is mindful of the needs
of the country at the moment. Secondly, the development of litera-
ture in Malay has close connections with the development of
modern Indonesian literature. The second factor is important in
the sense that it shows a regional basis in developing a local civili-
zation in meeting the challenges of Western concepts and values.
The contributory role of the other indigenous literatures towards
further development of the national literature must be emphasi-
sed. It is in this that we can see an interplay between the various
indigenous cultures. The literary works of the indigenous groups
reflect the various cultures native to the Malaysian social systems
for ages. All the values and weltanschauung which can be gathered
from the traditional works can be re-evaluated by present and
future writers, in order to fulfil the needs of the time and those of
the Malaysian society as a whole. A heavy responsibility will have
to be borne by our writers of today.
Those who~haveyet to learn to writeS in Bahasa Malaysia should
try to have their works made available in the national language if
they want their works to be in the mainstream of truly national
Malaysian literatures. Those already writing in Bahasa Malaysia
must continue with the tradition they have forged, but from now on
they must widen their horizons. They should not overlook the
traditional literatures of the other indigenous groups and must be
sensitive to the other literatures found in the country. They should
strive towards works of high quality, commensurate with the
status of “Great Literature” in the Malaysian context
For the intellectual elite, they must take seriously the literary
works of their country. They should strive, either directly or
indirectly, to work for a great tradition to be established in litera-
ture. And finally, the government tQo should shoulder some of the
responsibilities in thinking towards the development of a Malay-
sian national literature as a contribution to the establishment of
Malaysian cultural identity in the times to come.

124
8
MYTHIC ELEMENTS

IN MALAY HISTORIOGRAPHY
In his introduction to a collection called The Variety of History:
From Voltaire to the Present, Fritz Stern points out that “history...
varies as the life and spirit of different ages vary, and that is why
at different times and in different countries diverse types of history
have prevailed”.’ To the modern academic historian, the Malay
histories or sejarah would not properly be called history. The prob-
lem as seen by a modern historian is to assess how the Malay
sejarah can provide historical information on past events. In this
respect, works like Sejarah Melayu, Hikayat Acheh or Tuhfat-
an-Nafis may not be able to contribute in the way the Dutch or
English factory or company records can. But the fact remains that
the Malay histories were a socio-cultural expression of the Malay
society in the past. They were not merely a literary expression:
they were a distinctive genre in the totality of classical Malay lite-
rature. While the Malay sejamh may not tell us much of the history
of the Malay states in the past, they can be useful source to enligh-
ten us as to why and how they came to be written in such a man-
ner. This paper attempts to look at the Malay histories not merely
as a socio-cultural product of their time, but also as a psycho-
cultural expression of the Malay historians of a bygone age. The
authors of the Malay sejarah2 were individuals as well as partici-
pants of a particular culture. As Fritz Stern points out further,
“In the last analysis what will shape a particular history is the his-
torian’s conception of the past, whether or not he has formulated

125
it, whether or not he is fully conscious of it. These conceptions,
compounded of tradition and temperament, govern the writing of
history”: The authors of the historical writings in Sterm’s collec-
tion are known, and this makes it easier to correlate the type of
historical writing with the personality of the author, his purpose
and the mood of his society and time. With the Malay histories, the
task is definitely harder for the authors are almost wholly anony-
mous and hardly any external information is available of the au-
thors themselves.’ With this limitation in mind, we are therefore
forced to talk in general terms. What we are interested in is to
examine the world-view and also the ethos of the writers of the
Malay sejarah.
The modern reader can at once distinguish two main kinds of
information conveyed by the Malay histories. On the one hand,
there are those irrational narratives which we today would-ordina-
rily ascribe to the realm of folklore rather than accounts of every-
day happenings.5 These include such tales of princes and prin-
cesses coming out of bamb’oo clumps or foam in the sea, the genea-
logies of kings traced to figures like Iskandar Dzulkarnain, the
legend of Wan Empo’ and Wan Malini, or tales of the “sagacious
elephant” pointing out the future ruler of a state. On the other
hand, there are episodes which to our critical minds today may be
accepted as containing elements of truth or at least plausible in
terms. of human action and situation. As narratives’ they are
matter-of-fact and almost devoid of marvellous elements. From the
point of historical writing today, such episodes may not even be
accepted as historical truths, or they may be regarded merely as
pseudo-history. The rigid criterion of academic historians would
demand documentary substantiation of the facts related. In Malay
histories, the shortcoming appears to be the trivial motivations
that underlie the actions narrated. Wars are not usually waged for
economic or political motives but for human reasons such as love,
insult or jealousy. However, even in this category of information,
we do get themes and motifsb which we can immediately recognise
as “unhistorical”. One good example is the theme of how Sultan
Mansur Syah got the better of the Emperor of China as recounted
in Sejarah Melayu. While we may not find it very difficult to sepe-
rate the two kinds of information suggested here, it is admittedly
difficult to make a clear-cut division between the folkloristic ele-
ments characteristic of the first type of information and the
“unhistorical” themes and motifs which sometimes embellish the
second type. The story of Sultan Mahmud wanting to marry the

126
Princess of Gunung Ledang in Sejarah Melayu and that of Iskandar
Muda showing extraordinary prowess during his early years in
Hikayat Acheh are two cases in point. These themes may appear
folkloristic, but I am inclined to believe that they are more than
that. They may appear to be allegorical and hyperbolic to us, but
such tales were not strange to the belief-system of the Malays in
the past, or for that matter, of the Malay peasantry today. I shall
come back to this point later.
Ihe two kinds of information can be clearly illustrated by Hika-
7 Structurally, the content of
yat
thisSen Kelantan which I onceinto
edited.
hikayat can be divided two parts. The first half of the
hikayat is supposed to deal with the earlier period of the history of
Kelantan, while the latter half deals with the history of the state
about the beginning of the nineteenth century. What is significant
is the fact that the two parts more or less coincide with the two
kinds of information suggested here. The first half contains
various tales about characters who purportedly once ruled Kelan-
tan and the surrounding areas and who now live on in the oral tra-
ditions of the local people. Today, the names of Encik Siti Wan
Kembang and Tuan Puteri Saadong are invoked whenever the
local folk talk about the “ancient history” of their state. It is inte-
resting to note that the episodes related by the hikayat in this sec-
tion might not even stretch back to the sixteenth century, but they
are shrouded in a mist which only those familiar with Malay histo-
ries can understand. It is equally interesting that place-names
mentioned in the hikayat are still to be found in Kelantan. Land-
marks like Bukit Marakand Kampung Mahligai, a hill and a vil-
lage near Kota Bharu, the present capital of the state, are connec-
ted, in the local oral traditions, with Encik Siti Wan Kembang and
Tuan Puteri Saadong. Thus the first half of the hikayat can tell us
very little about the actual history of the state as a historian would
like to have it. One thing is clear, however, the section has a close
connection with the folklore of the local people. But as far as the
folk are concerned, and this is implied in the hikayat also, such
tales are “historical”.
It is in the second part of Hikayat Sen Kelantan that we get
accounts which we today may accept as “historical” Compared to
the preceding portion, the stories here are not folkloristic but
matter-of-fact. In this part of the hikayat, the author keeps to a
straight-forward form of narration, recounting the events on a
mundane level. Here we get events that are supposed to have
occured during the reigns of sultans whose graves in the !anggar

127
(royal cemetery) at Kota Bharu today offer us tangible evidence
that they once lived and ruled the state. In other words we cannot
vouch that the happenings related in the hikayat actually took
place, but at the same time it would be difficult to reject them as
historically untrue. Some can even be substantiated by other reli-
able sources. The point is that while we are not going to examine
the events in the light of present-day requirements of historical
evidence, we have to accept the fact that they are a kind of infor-
mation which we cannot reject as merely fictitious. However intert-
wined within this section are some episodes which we can easily
recognise as “unhistorical”. Long Junus, whose grave we can
find in the Langgar in Kota Bharu, is historically accepted as the
founder of the present dynasty in Kelantan. Hikayat Sen Kelantan
gives a long account of Long Junus to the time he became the ruler
of Kelantan. One of the episodes about Long Junus tells us how he
and his friend Long Jaffar helped the Sultan of Trengganu to
thwart a Buginese prince’s design to take over the state through a
cockfight. Long Junus and Long Jaafar provided the fighting cock
for the Sultan of Trengganu and their cock won the fight. Grateful
for this action, the Sultan of Trengganu helped to establish Long
Junus as the ruler of Kelantan. This episode is quite innocuous of
marvellous elements, but the motif of countries being won through
cock-fights is a widespread motif not only in Malay histories but
also in oral traditions.
The “unhistorical” elements, however, warrant our attention.
While they may not be exactly similar to the folkloristic informa-
tion of the first type, they are nevertheless quite distinct from the
matter-of-fact accounts characteristic of the second type of infor-
mation. We can leave to the academic historians to deal with the
second type of information in the Malay histories, for it is only this
kind of data that can be useful to their purpose. The folkloristic
narratives and the “unhistorical” themes and motifs, however,
are central to the approach we have in mind regarding the Malay
histories. We are not concerned with the use of the Malay histories
as a source for historical study, but rather as a source to under-
stand the histories not only as a socio-cultural product, but also as
a psycho-cultural expression.
Our critical mind can distinguish the two types of information
given in the Malay histories. It appears strange to us that the dua-
lity in thought can appear side by side and at times intermingles. We
would make the distinction today between the mundane reporting
of everyday events in the newspapers and the marvellous fairy-

128
tales we tell our children or the impossible antic of the characters
in the cartoon strips. But it does not appear to be the same with the
way of thinking of the Malay writers of histories in the old days or
even with that of the Malay folk who still tell and believe in
legends recounting past events and explaining the origins of local
landmarks. Our critical thinking today is circumscribed by our cul-
ture and civilization: that is to say our perception of things and
event are based upon our knowledge and way of thinking. There
are certain things which are acceptable to our minds and certain
others which are not. There are limits to which we respond in either
belief or disbelief. This is what, in Dr. David Bidney’s words, the
“psycho-cultural attitude or degree of belief”.8 Thus we use the
word “myth” to describe the elements of belief held by others but
not by us.
Dr. Bidney suggests that the term ‘myth’ when used in connec-
tion with belief “refers relatively to any belief which we discredit,
although acceptable to others in the past or the present”.9 As I
have said above, the second type of information conveyed by the
Malay histories is acceptable to us: we can accept the plausiblity of
the happenings even if they are not taken as historical truths. It
is the folkloristic and “unhistorical” themes and motifs that we
connot accept because of their irrational and absurd contents. But
at the same time we recognize the fact that these themes and motifs
are an expression which stands side by side with the second type of
information within the totality of the Malay histories. We may thus
call these themes and motifs mythic elements following Bidney’s
formulation. Our own belief-system may discount these narratives,
but we cannot deny the fact that they are the products of the
thoughts of men who belong to a particular culture and time in his-
tory. Bidney has also suggested that it is reasonable to look
upon mythic belief as the product of “precritical, critical and
scientific thought”. According to him:
In precritical cultures animistic tales of culture heroes and
of magic and epic cosmogonia and theogonic myths tend to
prevail. In critical, prescientific cultures myths of the miracu-
lous and supernatural gain currency. In scientific thought,
there is a tendency to discount narratives of the miraculous or
supernatural, but to accept secular myths instead. In our so-
called scientific culture we have the secular beliefs of pseudo-
science, such as the myths of racial superiority and the stereo-
types of racial and national character.’°
As mythic elements, the folkloristic and “unhistorical” episodes

129
can actually be looked upon from two points of view — diachronic
and synchronic. When we discuss such themes and motifs in the
context of the Malay histories, we are viewing the question in a
diachronic perspective. But if we bear in mind that similar narra-
tives still prevail in the form of oral legends and tales among the
Malay village folk, we are looking from a synchronic point of view.
If we follow Bidney’s postulation, the folkloristic and “unhistori-
cal” elements are the products of precritical and critical but pres-
cientific thoughts. “History” as known by the Malay folk differs
from the “history” one learns in schools today. So, from a synch-
ronic point of view, “history” as conceived by precritical and criti-
cal but prescientific thoughts still prevails in certain groups of the
Malay society today.” The mythic elements in the Malay histories
are to be examined in a diachronic perspective because the Malay
sejarah is a product of the society and culture at one point on the
historical continuum. As we today would incorporate certain ele-
ments in the Malay histories into our own historical writing after
subjecting them to the critical demands of the discipline, we can
expect that the Malay histories too would represent a cumulative
knowledge or tradition. The writer of the Malay sejarah not only
wrote or compiled his work as an individual of his time but he also
had access to the cumulative traditions of his culture prior to that
time. If looked from this point of view, we may be able to explain
the two types of information we get in the Malay histories. The
folkloristic elements are the expression of the precritical traditions
inherited by the Malay “historian”, while the second type of infor-
mation, including the “unhistorical” elements embedded in them,
is the manifestation of the critical but prescientific thought of his
time and culture.
The mythic elements in the Malay histories are as much the
result of an interplay of cultural traditions and the personality of
the authors as in the case of the second type of information refer-
red to in this paper. The Malay histories that have come down to us
had been written during a period which spanned over three or four
hundred years as represented by Hikayat Raja-Raja Pasai & one
end and Tuhfat-al-Nafis at the other, and over an area from
Kedah in the north to Borneo in the south. But within that period
of time and that area of space, the Malay histories have displayed
certain common characteristics which could only have stemmed
from a more or less common culture. But the point in time is an
important variable to note. Even a cursory observation can tell us
that there are much more of mythic elements in I-Iikayat .Raja-Raja

130
Pasai slightly less in Hikayat Acheh and much less in Tuhfat-
an-Nafis. There is, it seems to me, a correlation between the
quantity of mythic elements, particularly the folkloristic ones, and
the time when a particular sejarah is supposed to have been writ-
ten. And this in turn reflects the place of a particular sejarah on a
hypothetical continuum where at one pole we have precritical
thought and at the other self-correcting scientific thought. Thus we
may have Hikayat Raja-Raja Pasai nearer one end of the conti-
nuum and Tuhfat-an-Nafis closer to the other. Miraculous and
ma!vellous themes and motifs permeate Hikayat Raja-Raja Pasat
almost throughout. The folkloristic elements are particularly heavy
in the earlier part of the hikayat, but in the latter section when the
hikayat deals with Sultan Ahmad Perumudal Perumal and his son,
Tun Beraim Bapa, supernatural and magical motifs are nonethe-
less abundant. Compare this with Tuhfat-an-Nafis. Raja Au Haji
was the most critical of the Malay historians of old. When referring
to the tradition which said that the ancestry of the Buginese princ-
es could be traced back to “Puteri Balkis”, he could not help being
sarcastic about it. He was so conscious of his task that his prayer,
‘~Mengharapiaku akan Allah Ta’ ala yang mengampuni daripada
tersalah pada segala towarikh dan perjalananNya”, can easily be a
prayer of a modern historian. So, it is with Tuhfat-an-Nafis that we
get a Malay history as a product of a critical self-correcting
thought-

The mythic elements in the Malay histories are therefore to be

viewed as a psycho-cultural product of the Malay historian of the
past. These elements are drawn from the cognitive patterns of the
culture as a whole and the perception of the historians as indivi-
duals in the society. The folkloristic themes and motifs are tradi-
tions which help the authors of the Malay sejarah to explain the
distant past. The sources of these elements themselves would war-
rant a detailed research of their own, for there are recurrent the-
mes and motifs which may also be found in other culture areas.
Not all the folkioristic elements show pre-Hindu indigenous
traits, there are some which must have arisen from a knowledge of
Indian belief and narrative traditions. The motif of a being co-
ming forth from a bamboo clump is a clear example.
If we look at the structure of the Malay histories, we can gene-
rally observe that the mythic elements consisting of folkloristic
themes and motifs usually precede the more “historical” elements
of the second type of information we talk about in this paper. This
we have seen in Hikayat Sen Kelantan A regular pattern emerges
-

131
when we examine these folkloristic elements. As has been said
above, these themes and motifs seem to explain the distant past of
the history of the state the author is dealing with. And that misty
past does not only mean an array of personages to be related some-
how to the dynasty which is actually the central theme of a parti-
cular work, but also events and places which have some bearing on
the state in question. The antecedents of the kings of Malacca in
Sejanah Melayu. range from Iskandar Dzulkarnain, Raja Nushirwan
Adil and Raja Kida Hindi to the kings of Palembang and old Singa-
pore (Temasik). Similarly the history of Pasai takes into account
Merah Gajah, Puteri Betong, Merah Silu (Silau?) and Merah
Hasum. Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa provides the starting point
of the history of Kedah by bringing in Maharaja Rom and Maha-
raja China, the two great kings (and kingdoms) the old Malay his-
torian must have been familiar with from ancient traditions. One of
the common folkloristic elements to be found in the Malay histo-
ries concerns various place-names. Events are recounted as to how
land marks which have survived to the time of the author came to
bear particular names or certain characteristics. Themes and
motifs concerning the events are often to be found in more than
one sejarah. It is also significant to note that these themes and
motifs usually fit the kind of expression of a precritical culture as
outlined by Dr. Bidney. A comparative study of recurrent themes
and motifs concerning the pre-”historical” figures, place-names
and events in the various Malay historical works should be attemp-
ted. Such a study should reveal to us whether or not there was a
common world-view in the precritical culture of the Malays in-
herited by the writers of the Sejarah. From my preliminary obser-
vation, it is possible to say that the first type of information was
mainly derived from the oral traditions. the folkloristic themes and
motifs which might have been picked up by the old Malay historian from
the free floating oral myths, legends and tales current during his time in
the Indonesian region. Apart from the fact that these narratives formed
part of the world-view of the historian as well as that of his milieu, they
also provided for him a sense of continuity for the dynasty and state he
was mainly concerned with.
The “unhistorical” themes and motifs seem to reflect a more
sophisticated manifestation of the mythic elements. Bearing in
mind that the histories were written during the Islamic period and
that the new religion had become a force in the belief-system of the
society, this type of mythic element shows a strong Islamic bias.
Hikayat Acheh and Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa are particularly

132
strong in this respect. The writer of Hikayat Acheh, for example,
seems to take great pains to identify Acheh with the Islamic world
at large. Thud we get accounts which reveal an apperception of the
author towards this end. The stories of Mahkota Alam being not
only known in the Islamic world in the west but respected and
honoured as a great Muslim ruler indicates the awareness of the
historian as regards the psychological attitudes and the socio-
political situations of his times. In Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa,
the second part which deals with the Islamic period offers a sharp
distinction from the narratives concerning the earlier period which
contain folkioristic traditions which in turn show a great deal of
Siamese influence. The teaching of Islamic popular beliefs through
the miraculous appearences of a Wali Allah, Sheikh Abdullah,
before Sultan Mudzaffar Syah could have been conceived only
through the sharp perception of the author and his familiarity with
traditions prevailing in the Muslim civilization.
The personality of the old Malay historian must have been deve-
loped in the melieu in which he worked. Besides the Islamic bias,
the “unhistorical” themes and motifs also reflect the fact that the
Malay historian was especially aware of other socio-political forces
at work during his time. Many scholars have suggested that the
histories had a definite function in upholding the political institu-
tions of the Malay society in the past. To a great extent, they were
a device to prop up the charismatic position of the rulers and the
nobility. This was the case with Javanese “historical” works. The
Javanese court hi,torian or pujangga had a definite role to play
within the structure of the old Hindu Javanese society. He was
not merely a writer; he was, as D.F.K. Bosch puts it a “seer,
,

king’s adviser, court poet, chief justice, astrologer, supreme

authority in religious affairs, initiate and keeper of the holy tradi-
tion.”12 The Javanese court historian was invariably a Brahmin.
He was Lentral to the system of social control in the Hindu-Java-
nese society and culture by providing the magical sanctions for the
maintenance of the charismatic position of the royalty and the
sanctity of the priestly class. In the situation where the seat of
power kept changing hands, he was indispensable. This fact has
been well summarised by the Dutch historian B.H.M. Vlekke,
when he said, “Each time the centre of power shifted to a new
place, the claim to legitimacy was sanctioned by the new king’s
pujangga, the poet of the court, who wrote the miraculous tale of
the king’s descent from mighty rulers eminent in their magic
power. “13

133
 Although the Malay sejarah may not display the kind of polish
found in the Javanese Praraton or Negarakartagama in serving the
ruling class, the fact that they contain some similarities in this res-
pect is undeniable. Whether or not there were histories written in
the Malay royal centres during the Hindu period is a question
which will elude us forever. But there is enough evidence, as far as
literary sources go, to show that there was a conscious attempt
during the Islamic period to promote some kind of social organiza-
tion. Besides the histories, other literary sources seem to more
than confirmthis view. The old Malay laws that have come down to
us in texts like Hukum Kanun Melaka or Adat Atjeh indicate what
is implied in the histories is set out clearly in the codes of law.
Whether or not these law codes were, in practice, effective or pre-
vailing is not the question; the fact remains that the codes of law
categorically institutionalise the class distinctions between the
rulers and the ruled. And what is to be gathered from the literary
sources is further supported by some aspects of Malay culture still
prevailing today the hereditary titles and honorifics of the nobi-
—

lity, the court ceremonials and the awesome regard for daulat and
the fear of kétulahan -

It is in the light of the socio-political function of the histories that

the “unhistorical” themes and motifs as mythic elements can
become meaningful. The difference between the Malay histories
which are concerned with political entities such as the state or the
dynasty and those works which deal with particular events lies in
the fact that the former reflects a greater degree of emotional
involvement on the part of the authors towards their subject-
matters than in the case of the latter. The close identification bet-
ween the historian and the social system in which he works or
which he supports explains some of the mythic elements in his
works. Two dominant themes appear to be the glorification of the
dynasty or state and the loyalty towards the ruler. Bravery and
prowess in battles, being able to outwit others when the prestige
of the state is at stake and the grandeur of the historian’s own
master in comparison to others are some of the common themes.
Utmost loyalty to the ruler is implied in themes where princes and
warriors are willing to die rather than rebel against their rulers.
Seen in the light of their socio-political functions, the episode of
Tun Beraim Bapa’s unflinching suicide in Hikayat Raja-Raja Pasai,
the hyperbolic narrative of Iskandar Muda’s superhuman feats
while still at a tender age in Hikayat Acheh and the story of Malac-
ca warriors outwitting the Siamese invading forces by lighting up

134
the coastline with burning torches in Sejarah Melayu can thus be-
come meaningful. These mythic elements therefore reflect the
awareness and perception of the Malay historians of the socio-
political forces and conditions prevailing during their time. They
are a product of a critical mind but not that of a self-conscious criti-
cal thought characteristic of our own culture and time.
It has been suggested that some of what we call “unhistorical”
episodes in the second type of information may well have been a
subterfuge used to mask the real intentions of the writer. Assu-
ming that the feudal system prevailing in the traditional Malay
society was intolerant and oppressive, some of the “unhistorical”
themes and motifs may be said to be disguised expressions rebel-
ling against the ruling class. It may even be the writer’s intention
to censure the conduct of his feudal master. The story of swordfish
invading old Temasik in Sejarah Melayu, for example, has often
been suggested as an allusion to the incapacity of the Sultan in
repelling Majapahit’s invasion and more generally to the inepti-
tude of the ruling class as a whole. Similarly, the tale of Sultan
Mahmud’s futile venture to marry the fairy princess of Gunong
Ledang is said to be a reminder to the rulers that they were after
all mere mortals. Many such themes can be given similar interpre-
tation. The fall of Malacca and Pasai to the enemies, for instance,
is often said to be attributed to the weakness in the personal
characters of Sultan Mahmud and Sultan Ahmad of Malacca or
those of Sultan Ahmad Perumudal Perumal of Pasai. This, how-
ever. is only implied but not explicitly stated by the hikayats in
question. This line of interpretation assumes that the narratives
were consciously created for the purpose. Ethnographic analysis of
myths and folktales have shown that the narratives are not only
overt expressions of a culture but are also the manifestations of
covert and latent attitudes in the society. The trickster motif in the
American Indian myths and tales does not usually reflect the
system of values but provides a psychological release for members
of the society. The public recital of such tales and myths offers the
members a licence to express latent feelings normally forbidden by
the values held by the society. It may not be exactly similar in the
case of the satirical or allegorical themes in the Malay sejarah, but
the fact that such themes play almost a similar role is conceivable.
But this assumption does not affect the argument presented here
that the “unhistorical” themes and motifs are part of the world -

t’iew of the old Malay historian. In fact it should strengthen the

contention made above that the themes and motifs are the product

135
of a critical mind. In other words, although the episodes can be
said to be a conscious creation of the author, they remain to be
mythic from our point of view. But, most importantly, they are
consonant with the systems of beliefs and values prevailing in the
author’s culture. Just as our present day myth-makers make use of
what Bidney calls “secular beliefs of pseudo-science”, the old
Malay historian was also a myth-maker in some respect using
elements within the cognitive-patterns of his culture and time.
Literary scholars may prefer to use the term “imagination” to
describe the mythic expressions found in the old Malay history,
but I would prefer to stick to Bidney’s use of the term “psycho-
cultural” expression for the main reason that the Malay sejarah
was not merely a literary effort but one that was central to the ideo-
logy of the traditional Malay society.

Notes
1. Meridian Books Paperback. 1956. p. 13.
2. Whether or not authors were merely compilers or copyists does not affect the
arguments set forth in this paper. In the process of compliling or copying the
histories, the writers must have been conscious of the task before them. I
concur with Teuku Iskandar’s view that “a Malay copyists is not a mere cop-
yist he is more than that, he is an author himself’. (“The Malay Historical
Writings in the First Half of the 17th Century”. Journal of the Malaysian
Branch. Royal Asiatic Society. XL 2/1967/41.)
3. The Variety of Histon,, 13.
4. Except for Raja Ali Haji. the other authors of Malay histories, including Tun
Sen Lanang, purportedly the writer of Sejarah Melayu. will remain to be a
matter of conjecture.
5. Note that the use of the word folklore” here is normative rather than neutral
or technical.
6. The terms ‘theme’ and ‘motif are used together for convenience. ‘Theme’
would normally refer to the core idea in a complete piece of narration or an
episode, while ‘motif usually refers to a minimal unit in the narrative, such as the
characters, objects and actions of the characters. The episodes of how Malacca
and Pasai obtained their names, for example. can be said to have the same
theme, but the motifs in them are different.
7. Submitted as a dissertation for Master of Arts in the University of Malaya in
1961.
8. Theoretical Anthropology (New York: Columbia University Press. 1960).
p. 293.
9. Ibid. P. 300.
10. Ibid. p. 325.
11. Many tales and legends have been published and passed as ‘historical’ works.

136
 One good example is Tawarikh Gunung Reng by Mohammad Daud Jamil
published recently (undated) by Al—Ahliyah Press, Kota Bharu, Kelantan.
12. Selected Studies in Indonesian Archaeology (The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff,
1961) p. 11.
13. Nusantara: A History of Indonesian (The Hague and Bandung: Van Hoeve,
1959) p. 52.

137
9
MYTHS, LEGENDS AND FOLK-TALES
IN MALAY CULTURE

Myths, legends and folk-tales are traditional narratives passed on

from one generation to another. In preliterate societies or in the
“folk” segment of literate societies, such narratives belong to the
oral tradition. It is true that myths, legends and folk-tales may exist in
written form, but originally they were oral tales. As cultural phenomena.
they are related to other aspects of culture, especially the belief-
system, the world-view and ethos (or social values) of society. A
sociological analysis of these narratives can tell many things about a
culture, especially those elements which are not readily verbalized
by the members of that culture. The validity of such an analysis is
based on the fact that unlike modern forms of literature which are
the creation of individuals, myths, legends and folk-tales do’ not
belong to anyone but to the whole community. They are not usually
subject to the whims and fancies of individuals: they are a social
manifestation. Once they outlive their function in the culture, they
become at best a culture lag, or they may perform a different function
with new meanings and values attached to them.
It should be realised, however, that the terms myth, legend
and folk-tale are only a convenient tool for scholarship, for each
particular culture may have its own names for the different types
of traditional narratives. Some cultures may not even be so self-
conscious; as such they do not have anything to indicate the differences
between the types of oral tales. However, the terms are useful. The

138
same tale, for example, may be classified as myth in one culture and
a legend or folk-tale in another when put in the context of its function
in the respective cultures. There are no specific terms in Malay for
myths, legends and folk-tales, except those of recent origin used by
students of literature and culture. It is interesting to note the terms
used by the Press in reporting this lecture of mine: “cerita dongeng”
(old wives’ tales) for myth, “kisah keperwiraan” (tales about
warriors) for legend and “Cerita penglipur-lara” for folk-tales. I do
not favour the use of term “dongeng” for myths or even legends for
the reason that it is charged with our own values and conceptions
regarding them.
However, the use of the term does reflect the change in meaning
and function of traditional oral narratives in the Malay society
today. The term for legend only partly describes that types of
narratives, for not all legends are about the exploits of warriors. The
term for the folk-tales is, however, quite apt; in fact the term “peng-
lipur lara” (the soother of cares) is one of the terms known to be
connected with the tradition of oral story-telling. It refers to the story-
teller whose trade it was to entertain the village folk with marvellous
tales.
Sir Hugh Clifford has described the Malay raconteur of tales in
the following terms:
Bayan the Paraquet (i.e. the raconteur) was what is technically
termed a Penglipur Lara — “Soother of Cares” — a class of
men which is fast dying out in the Peninsula
These people are simply the wandering bards and minstrels,
who find their place in an independent Malay state
They learn by rote some old-world tale, which has been
transmitted by word of mouth through countless generations,
and they wander from village to village, singing it for pay to the
unlettered people. to whom these songs and stories represent
the only literature which comes within their experience.
Such minstrels are greatly loved by the villagers, who hold
them in high honour, giving them hearty welcome, and the
name by which they are known in the vernacular bears witness
to the joy which they bring with them withersoever they go.
And W.F. Maxwell has written th~following:
To the Malays. the skilful raconteur. who can hold his
audience enfralled with the adventures of his hero and heroine, or
with elaborate descriptions of the magnificence of the palaces and

139
 courts of mythical Rajas, is the Penglipur Lara
Such was the tradition of oral story-telling among the Malay
folk in the days when radio and television were unknown. There
are other terms, the presence of which lends further proof to the
existence of oral story-telling tradition in Malay culture. In Kelantan,
the term used for narrating oral tales is “berbari”, while the term for
the story-teller is “tok selampit” or “tukang selampit”. However, all
the narrative are either called hikayat, cerita, or kisah. From the
terms alone, it is quite difficult to say whether the people are self-
conscious about their conceptions of the differences in the narratives.
Although words like sejarah, siarah or tawarikh, referring to
narratives of “historical” nature, have been used, but mostly relatively
recent, it is difficult to say categorically that judging by the usage of
terms alone, there has been in Malay culture a self-conscious aware-
ness as to different categories of narratives.
But there is no question to the fact that the different categories
are recognizable through their contents, their functions and places in
the life of the people and the attitudes held towards them. However,
myths, legends and folk-tales have to be viewed in terms of the
continuity and change in Malay culture, for what can be termed a
myth at one time may be recognised as a legend a few centuries
later. At present, it is usually assumed that oral narratives are things
of the past. With radio and television playing an ever increasing role
as a means of communication, for entertainment or otherwise, we
would expect that oral narratives too have outlived their usefulness
or even their existence. At least for the time being, this does not
seem to be so. The effects of radio, television and the cinema on
Malay kampung life are quite profound, but in some areas, traditional
forms of entertainment like wayang kulit, ston,~-te!1ing,berdikir or
hadrah have continued to live with vigour. Berdikir or hadrah —

chanting of verses in praise of Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.), are

either accompanied or unaccompanied by drums (rebana).
This shows that the traditional arts and pastimes have still a
place in the life of our folk-society. As for oral tradition, its continued
existence, although to a less degree than before, is reflected by the
recent collections made by Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka (Language
and Literary Agency), students from the Department of Malay
Studies, University of Malaya and individual collectors. A well-
known collector, Encik Zakaria Hitam of Kuantan, has found a rich
mine of Malay folk-tales in many areas of Pahang, even in the

140
kampungs (villages) around Kuantan. He has so far collected more
than a hundred oral tales of various lengths and have published
about one-third of them. Encik Zakaria’s efforts are praiseworthy:
his published tales provide good reading materials for the general
public interested in traditional forms of literature and to school-
children.
The oral narratives have come to us mainly through writing.
This is especially true of those belonging to the past ages. Our know-
ledge of the myths, legends and folk-tales which existed before the
twentieth century is drawn from those which have been commited
to writing. Myths, as narratives, are held sacred by members of a
society. They tell the tales of gods and other pantheon, relate events
in remote past, and are central to the belief system of the society.
The main function of myth is to provide the basis for a belief system,
which is most cases, but not always, are connected with religious
beliefs.
Of the Malay traditional narratives that have come to us, either
in oral form which have been recorded by scholars, or in written
form, there are many which can be recognised as belonging to the
category of myth. Perhaps the easiest to recognize are those which
I intend to call political myths. Such narratives are to be found
mainly in Malay historical works of the past or what we may call the
sejarah. These may appear to us now as legends for they no longer
evoke a sense of sacredness which they once did. But taken in the
context of the function they performed in the past, they should be
properly identified as myths. Political myths formed the foundation
for the traditional Malay political system. It is more accurate perhaps
to say socio—political system, for the political arrangement was
inseparable from the social order of the day. Such narratives provided
the charater for correct social interaction and the legitimacy for
political power. The narratives are usually about the supernatural
origins and superhuman feats of the ancestors of a ruling dynasty in
a Malay state.
There are certain recurrent themes and motifs in such tales
which show affinity with other cultures. The motif of the future king
coming out of the foam in the sea or from a clump of bamboos is not
peculiar to the Indonesian region. Similar motifs are to be found in
Indian tradition. The political myths in the Malay sejarah draw their
component elements from many cultures, but they have all come to
be recognised as the symbols of the divinity of Malay kingship. As I

141
have pointed out in another place (See “Mythic Elements in Malay
Historiography”) historians who wish to draw information from the
Malay sejarah may straightaway ignore the first few chapters
dealing with matters which by any stretch of the imagination cannot
be accepted as “historical” because they are usually about super-
human beings performing feats right out of this world. But to a
student of culture, these tales provide a wealth of material on the
symbolic expressions of a culture.
An analysis of such political myths can throw a great deal of
light into the social values and social organization of the Malays in
the past. It can contribute a great deal too to a more meaningful
stddy of the cultural history of the Malays than that which has so far
been carried out. An important task is to make a thorough study of
the symbolism to be found in such myths. The changes that have
taken place in Malay culture have certainly change that function of
the traditional narratives of the attitude towards them. Today we
would regard the stories about the origin of crops, or about the
origin of the worlds, as legends. But at one time they must have been
myths, for they provided a framework for a religious system.
Ralph Linton has warned that the “reconstruction of the old
Southeast Asiatic religion presents the most difficult problem of
all”. But studies have shown that to some extent it is possible to get
a glimpse at the Old Indonesian religious system. Some aspects of
this religion have survived in some of the contemporary societies of
the area. Animistic beliefs must have been the core of this religious
system. Contemporary Indonesian societies which have remained
more or less untouched by foreign influences for the past two
thousand years or so still subscribe to belief in spirits. Among those
peoples who have changed their religious creeds in the course of
their history, animistic notions are still to be observed in the beliefs
and practices of the folk segment of their societies.
The Malay village specialist, the pawang or bomoh, (medicine-
man), is still an important figure in Malay village life. The tradition
which provides the framework of the pawang’s craft is a link between
the past and the present. It is the informal aspect of the Malay
religion, that is using the term religion in an anthropological sense.
It is not possible now to talk about a corpus of myths or a system
of mythology supporting the institution of pawang and bomoh. But
stories validating the practices of these village specialists are still told,
and sometimes are to be found in manuscripts. These represent an

142
esoteric knowledge jealously guarded by the practitioners and are
only imparted if one is willing to take up the vocation.
These tales are survivals of age-old myths; but as far as the
practitioners are concerned, they are still mythic in function. for
they provide the very things by which their beliefs and practices
are validated and legitimised. Thus old myths in Malay culture
survive today in certain traditions within the totality of Malay society.
They provide the link between the past and the present. Although
they no longer function in the same way they did in the past. they
have survived in certain institutions inherited from the past. A know-
ledge of them is important in understanding the past, and an awareness
of their survival today also helps in understanding those institutions
and customs which have survived the passage of time and changes.
In time of crises, these institutions are still used to ease the tensions
experienced by individuals as well as the whole community. Such
customs and institutions provide a convenient alternative in the
action pattern of the modern Malay.
With legends we get a different type of traditional Malay oral
narratives. While myths properly belong to the past when they
were central to the belief-system of the Malays, the legend is a
living tradition. Legends are believed in, but they are not regarded
as sacred. They lend support to the beliefs held by the people. but
they do not form the bases for such beliefs. We have noted that some
of those recognizable as myths at one time should now be classified
as legends. We may call these demythised myths or mythic legends.
The true form of legends consists of tales about persons, places or
events which are considered to be true.
Legends are not devoid of supernatural elements; in fact these
are the very ingredients which make the narratives occupy a special
place in a culture. The main characteristic of the legend is that it tells
about extraordinary events, persons or places which are significant
enough for the attention of the society. Another important charac-
teristic of the legend is that it is usually anchored to a particular
community or locality. There are legends which are widely known,
and they are usually about national heroes or of events of national
significance. Some of them may reach such a proportion that they
are regarded as national epic. One such example is the epic of Hang
Tuah.
The most common type of legend to be found in Malay culture
consists of stories about local landmarks and about persons and

143
events usually connected with those landmarks. These landmarks
may just be ordinary phenomena of nature, a lake, a tree or a
boulder on the seashore. But we can at once know that these
objects have a special meaning to the local community. The tree
may have white or yellow cloth tied to its branches, the boulder on
the beach may have an anchak (sacrificial basket) placed on it at
regular times or a particular lake is avoided by the local populace,
even though it such an inviting place for a swim. A keen ethno-
grapher can easily observe that the pattern of behaviour of the local
community is regulated somewhat by these landmarks, and he
wants to find out the reasons for this. Usually the explanation is to
be found in the tale told by the members of the community. Such
a tale would then be classified as a legend belonging to the tradition
of the local community.
Local legends are to be found all over the country, like the
legend of Mahsuri in Pulau Langkawi, the legends surrounding
Lake Cmi in Pahang, the legend of Gunung Reng in Kelantan or
that of Hang Tuah’s well at Duyong in Malacca. But objects around
which local legends are usually found are those which stand out as
extraordinary. Solitary graves, an isolated hillock or mound, an
abandoned ancient cannon, odd-looking rock-information often
have stories explaining their origin or connection with certain
persons.
It is significant to note that these legends often appear in the
Malay newspapers, and this reflects the significant part they play
in Malay culture. As far as the local community is concerned, their
legend is a historical truth. Malay local legends are not merely the
folk’s “historical” perception of past events, they are closely related
to local beliefs, which form a part in the totality of the relationship
with supernatural. One common characteristic of Malay local legend
is that it is too often connected with the belief in keramat (saints).
There are actually4various concepts of the keramat in Malay culture.
At one end, we have the Islamic tradition of the wali or chosen
religious person endowed with extraordinary powers like the famous
Keramat Habib Noh in Singapore, and the other, the animistic
concept of objects having magical properties.
Local legends usually play the role of validating the beliefs in
keramat by telling about local objects, landmarks or persons recog-
nised as keramat. The point here is that, there is a close relation-
ship between the narratives classified here as legends with certain

144
aspects of Malay beliefs and the subsequent patterns of behaviour
relating to these beliefs. What is interesting to me regarding legends
about old heroes is again connected with patterns of behaviour and
beliefs to be found in Malay culture. A few years ago when a “purba-
wara” (stage play) based on the legends of a hunchback warrior
who is believed to have once lived in Johor was staged, the actor
playing the part of the warrior and other members of the cast fell
unconscious. Rituals had to be performed in order for the play to
run smoothly. This is not an isolated instance; it is quite usual to hear
of actors playing the roles of legendary heroes being possessed by
spirits.
There are two points to be noted here: the first is that such hero-
legends are accepted as true, in spite of the supernatural elements
present in them. In fact, it is such elements that characterise the
legends and that which make them significant compared to other
forms of traditional narratives. The second is that, there seems to
be an idea of a link between the hero of the legend and those who
want to keep alive the legend, either by telling it or by re-enacting
the event. Thus rituals are held when the legend is recounted or re-
enacted. Perhaps this may explain why such an excitement was
evoked by the re-emergence of Mat Kilau (a Malay warrior who
fought against the British late in the 19th century. A man emerged
from obscurity recently to claim that he was that warrior). For those
heroes long gone and buried (and there is no chance whatsoever of
their being resurrected), there is already a sense of communion
between the dead and the living. So one can imagine the impact
when the “dead” came actually walking in, as in the case of Mat
Kilau.
Although legends are usually local in theme, there are some
which are widely known in different places. Such legends are
known as migratory or wandering legends. But here again, the
familiar theme tends to be anchored to a locality and is given a local
character. The local community will swear that the event occurred
in their place, and they may even show the evidence supporting this
claim. It is only when one is aware of the existence of the same tale
elsewhere that one realises that it is really a migratory legend. In
Sungai Nal in Kelantan, in Perak River, in Brunei River, at the
Batu Caves and in a cave near Muar in Johore, local populace can
show what they claim to be a petrified ship belonging to a young
man who was cursed into stone by his mother when he refused to

145
own her as his own mother.
It is the same legend but known by different names in different
localities. This legend is widespread and is well-known among the
Malays. Considering this fact, it is difficult to say that it does not have
any significant meaning in Malay culture. It does seem to be an
expression of an important social value in Malay culture, and that is
a value connected with mother-son relationship. It is important to
note that in the versions so far known to me, it is always the connection
between the son and the mother, except for one variant collected by
a former student of mine in Negeri Sembilan. In this particular
version, it is between the mother and daughter, and there is no
petrified ship. The daughter sank into the ground, and to this day,
the place where she sank is called “Pulau Tengkolok”, that is island
(raised ground) in the middle of a flat riceland. It is also significant
to note that this variant occurs in a society where women hold a
special position.
As I have said earlier, story-telling is still a living tradition among
rural Malays, but it is not as popular as it used to be in the days when
Hugh Clifford, Maxwell and Winstedt first brought to outside
attention the role of Malay raconteurs. It is a limited activity now, but
many more tales can be brought to light if collectors are painstaking
enough to track them down. Many old people are reluctant to tell
these tales because they assume that they are of no use to the
present generation. They fail to realise that a rich cultural heritage
will be irrevocably lost if these tales are not recorded for posterity
now. The folk-tales in Malay culture have been brought to notice
only when they have been put into writing.
The tales about “Sang Kancil” and other animal stories have
been recorded from the oral tradition. but they are known to have
existed in manuscript. This fact reflects the interflow of elements
between written and oral traditions in Malay culture. We can quickly
go over the different genres of folk-narratives in Malay culture. First
we have the animal tales of which perhaps the best known is the
mouse-deer or “Sang Kancil” cycle. Then we have the cycles on
proverbial characters like Pak Pandir and Pak Belalang. These tales
belong to the category of funny anecdotes about simpletons. “born-
losers” and tricksters which although entertaining, can be quite
incisive satires on human life.
The type of folk-tales which borders on the legend is the aetiolo-
gical tale. It tells of the origins of things. but unlike the legend, it

146
refers to general objects rather than to specific objects in a locality.
But the most widespread are marvellous tales about extraordinary
princes and princesses — and their adventures. Winstedt has given
the term “folk-romances” to this type of tales, which usually have
complicated plots. Compared to the other types, these are rather
lengthy. Some of these tales may take many nights to recite. In
Kelantan, story-telling is accompanied by the playing of the rebab (a
type of violin), while in Kedah and Perlis, Awang Batil narrates his
repertoire of tales by beating a rhythm with his fingers on a metal
bowl. From what I have gathered. a tradition like story-telling is also
dependent on other forms traditional arts, especially the wayang
kulit (shadow play). Many tales that my students have collected
show great affinity with stories used for wayang kulit.
Without doubt, the folk-tale is mainly for entertainment. In the
past, even today to some extent, well-known raconteurs are paid to
perform at weddings and other gatherings in Malay villages. The
role of the folk-tale in Malay culture is quite clear. It is the same with
the syair (narrative poem) which is recited aloud by a reader. But
what is significant regarding the folk-tale in Malay culture is that there
seems to be a degree of belief in the events and characters related
in the tales. It is not the same kind of belief as in the case of the myth
and legend, but a way of thought that the events and character could
have taken place and existed somewhere in the past. It is quite
similar to the observation made by Snouck Hurgronje early this
century regarding the Achehnese’ attitude towards their traditional
narratives. It appears that the people did not actually believe in the
tales. but they did not discount the possibility that those recounted
in the tales could have existed in the past or in another world. A
story-teller. from whom one of my students recorded a tale in
Central Pahang. had no special rites performed when he started on
his tale, but he saluted (seru) the guardian of the place and the
‘raja” (king) about whom the tale was about. He truly believed that
the hero and other characters in the story had lived once upon a
time. And if he did not respect them, something untoward might
happen, as those “raja” had extraordinary properties (tuah) and
these might affect him adversely.

147
10
THE BOMOH AND THE PRACTICE OF

MALAY MEDICINE

The literature on bomoh, the Malay specialist of folk medicine and

spirit beliefs, and the practice of traditional Malay medicine is not
lacking. From the time Walter William Skeat compiled his Malay
Magic’ at the turn of the century, or since Dr. John D. Gimiette
wrote his Malay Poisons and Charm Cures ir’~ 19.15 2 there have
been many books and papers written on the subject. 1-lowever, the
subject seems to have been approached in many~different ways.
The colonial scholars, like Skeat, Gimlette and later Sir Richard
Winstedt3 were collectors and compilers: they brought to the at-
tention of the outside world the theories, concepts and materia
medica of the Peninsular Malays. But as yet no original texts on
Malay medicine which are generally known by the term “Kitab
Tib” have been translated and published. Even among the Malays
themselves, such literature was known only to the practising or
aspiring bomohs, for it contained the esoteric knowledge open only
to the initiated and the practitioner. Perhaps during the time of
Skeat, Gimlette or Winstedt, the interest invoked by their works
was more in character with the spirit of the time: Malay folk medi-
cine was a fascinating subject, a part of the exotic mysterious Eas-
tern world which provoked the curiosity of the West. It was after
the Second World War that the subject of Malay folk medicine took
a different turn. As medical services -were spreading to the rural
areas, modern medical practitioners were confronted by the diffi-
cult task of “selling” their brand of medicine in the face of the

148
competition from the traditional knowledge and practice which had
been in the lives of the people for centuries. The assault on tradi-
tional beliefs and practices regarding health and medicine was
relentless.4 Today the acceptance of modern medicine in the villa-
ges is beyond doubt, but it does not mean the eradication of the
bomoh or what he stands for. The question is more than just a dis-
placement of one medical system by another, but rather one that is
only explicable when one understands the nature of culture con-
tact, that is between Malay culture, of which the institution of
bomoh is an integral part, and the modern medical system. That is
why in an earlier paper, I have posited that the acceptance of
modern medicine only means an additional social institution
among the Malays, an alternative medical system, besides the one
that has already been in existense for centuries.5 And among the
medical practitioners, too, there is a noticeable change in attitude
towards the subject of bomoh and traditional Malay medicine. No
longer is the bomoh regarded a rival and his beliefs and practices a
stumbling block to the introduction of modern medicine. Instead
there is already a positive approach towards understanding not so
much the medicine itself but rather the attitudes and the percep-
tion of the people and their culture.6 This paper tries to avoid
going over the same ground already covered by Skeat, Gimlette or
Winstedt, except to mention in outline whenever it is necessary,
for the basic ideas about sickness, their causes and remedies, have
not changed these last few hundred years. Nor is it going to touch
on the question of folk medicine uis-a-vis modern medicine.
What this paper will do is to explain the nature of the institution of
the bomoh and the practice of medicine as they are viewed and
perceived from-within the culture itself.
There are two general terms which are often met with when we
talk about the traditional medical specialist among the Malays —

“pawang” and “bomoh”. While some people may use the terms
interchangeably, the former usually refers to the shaman who is
able to communicate with the spirit world and who conduct such
rituals as opening virgin land, propitiating the spirits of the sea for
the fishermen or the pacification of spirits which are supposed to
haunt a place. The bomoh, on the other hand, usually refers to the
specialist who tends the sick and cures illnesses. However, as the
concept of illness is more often than not associated with the belief
in the intervention of the spirit world, the pawang too is involved in
curing rites, such as exorcising spirits which are supposed to have
taken possession of a person.This explains why sometimes the two

149
terms are used interchangeably or that a specialist may function as
both. There are also other terms used for those engaged in the art
of curing the sick, such as the dukun, tok puteri, tukang urut,
tukang bekam, tok mudim and bidan. The dukun, a term used in
Indonesia as the equivalent of the bomoh in Malaysia, has come
to be a specialised term for the bone-setter, while tukang urut is
generally the masseur. There is a tendency to attribute the dukun
with some magical knowledge, for his prowess in restoring the
fractured bones and dislocated joints is not entirely due to his own
skill, but to some extraneous power as well. The masseur, on the
other hand, is employed to soothe the tired muscles and tendons,
to restore virility to man’s sexual organ, or to correct the nerves
and blood-vessels of mothers who have just delivered their babies.
Tok Puteri, together with his “interpreter” Tok Minduk, is a spe-
cialist in the shamanic ritual of curing the sick. However, this
brand of ritual is confined to Kelantan, and the Malays of South
Thailand. Tukang bekam is a specialist in blood-letting. Using hol-
low horns of the buffa!o or glass bottles, the practitioner draws the
blood from behind the patient’s ears for complaints like headache
or from other parts of the body where there are swellings. Tok
Mudim is the village surgeon who specialises in circumcision.
Then there is the bidan the village midwife, who is the expert in
,

matters pertaining to childbirth. The bidan provides the pre-natal

care, delivers the baby, and then looks after the mother as well the
baby for a forty-four-day period. Finally, there is another practi-
tioner who is also engaged in curing the sick, the “keramat hi-
dup” However, this type of practitioner does not properly belong
to the band of curers in traditional Malay medicine. He is on the
periphery because curing is only a part of his “repertoire”. In fact
the “keramat hidup” is a figure emerging from popular religion:
he is more or less a “living saint” who is endowed with special
powers, one of which is the ability to cure illnesses. However, the
incidence of “keramat hidup” is rare and far between, for unlike
the bomoh over whom no religious sanction has been known to be
applied rigorously, the “keramat hidup” is not allowed to flourish
by the religious authorities,, for his presence is suspiciously looked
upon as a deviation from the true teachings of Islam.7
To understand the institution of bomoh and the practice of tra-
ditional Malay medicine, we have to look at them as part of the
total belief-system of the Malays. Both date back to the dawn of
history of the people, and in the course of time, some parts of the
medical baggage have been abandoned while new accretions have

150
been added on. Basically, however, ,the world-view regarding
sickness and its cure stems from the belief in the supernatural
intervention of human life. Vestiges of the shamanic practices of
the distant past are still very much in evidence, such as the rituals
of main puteri. berjin or berhantu~ or the possession of familiar
spirits, akuan. From the civilisations of India which had influen-
ced the Malays for over a thousand years, from about the 1st cen-
tury AD. to about the 12th century AD. the Malays must have
learnt not only about certain efficacious medical materials (per-
haps the use of henna and betel leaves), but also the mystical
powers of the deities like “Betara Guru”, “Sen Rama” or “Laksa-
mana”, whose names are often invoked in the incantations (men-
tern, jampi or serapah) of the bomoh. And from the Islamic
civilisation (but not necessarily Islam as a religion) the Malays
gathered further medical knowledge: the use of certain materia
medica, the hot and cold syndrome, humoral pathology (the harmo-
nious balance of earth, water, fire and wind), magical formulae
and incantations, and verses from the Quran for the cure of
certain specific diseases. Such knowledge is often compiled in
books called Kitab Tib. The most famous book is Taj-uI-Muluk, while
others goby different names such as Kitab MujarrabatMe!ayu. One Kitab
Tibwhich I managed to acquire from Nik Abdul Rahman bin Nik Dir, the
royal bomoh of Kelantan, is a 500-page manuscript dealing with 147
fasal or subjects. However, included, in the 147 are a few covering non-
medical knowledge, such as the way to identify lucky singing doves
(burung ketitir yang bertuah) or lucky traits in a dog (pada menyatakan
tuah anjing). The practice of medicine or magic (sihir) is compatible with
popular religion, but some aspects of it do seem to be incompatible with
the strict teachings of Islam, especially where there is soliciting with
supernatural beings outside the otbit of Islam. Thus, one of the rationale
used by the bomoh is to recite verses from the Quran besides folowing
the ntualistic formulae. Finally, the contribution of modern medical
knowledge cannot be over-looked, for it has become part of the medical
world-view of the Malays to recognise the “germs” (kuman) as a probable
cause of an illness, or the simple hygienic practices such as the need for
good ventilation in the house. In short the medical world-view of the
Malays as reflected in the differentvocations of the medical practitioner is
one that has been built up through the course of their history from
diverse cultures. However, the supernatural premises ofsuch world-view
remain, although not all the medical conceptsand theones are based dn

151
the assumption of supernatural inteivention. Natural causes of sickness
are recognised, and the cures and remedies for such causes are equally
mundane, like the antidotes (penawar = neutraliser) administered in
cases of poisoning. But even in such circumstances, an invocation to
summonthe aid of supernatural agents helps agreat deal in boosting the
confidence of the patient. The ritual, in other words, may be regarded as
having a therapeutic function or value.
The general term in Malay for illness is “sakit”~Its use ranges
from the feeling of pain as in “sakit kepala” for headache to one’s
state of being, either emotional or physical. Thus an infirmity
resulting from old age is said to be “sakit tua” or when one is dep-
ressed or low in spirit, perhaps from longing or being in love, it is
referred to, half jocularly, as “sakit angau One area where the
‘~

bomoh is often consulted is when a person suffers from an emotio-

nal or psychological disoder. In fact, one of the stock answers
given when a person is asked why he does not consult a doctor is
that one sees the doctor for physical illnesses such as cough, fever,
fracture or dislocation, but for those diagnosed as caused by super-
natural agents the proper physician will be the bomoh. As pointed
out earlier the question of traditional medicine vis-a-vis modern
medicine is not so much of the latter displacing the former, but rat-
her that of two different medical systems existing side by side,
offering alternatives as well as a “psychological reserve” when
one is found to be inadequate or ineffective. It is also not true that
there is a correlation between the rise in the acceptance of modern
medicine and the decline in the belief of bomoh and pawang. In
fact, the bomohs are no longer to be found only in the rw~alvillages
or kampungs; some have even built up a sizeable urban clientele,
even in Kuala Lumpur or Petaling Jaya. Some even come from the
ranks of those who have received secondary and post-secondary
education. To mention a few cases in point: one of my former stu-
dents at the University used to assist his elder brother who is a
bomoh in Kuala Krai, Kelantan, while a bomoh who practises in
Petaling Jaya is a college-trained teacher. A study made by one of
my former students on a well-known bomoh who is a retired major
of the army, shows that the bomoh’s clientele is made up of urban-
dwellers and well-known personalities.9 However, it needs to be
emphasised thaf the cli~nteleis not made up only of those seeking
a cure to illnesses, physical or psychological, but aslo those with’
various personal problems and difficulties, such as those arising
from love affairs, domestic disagreements or everyday working

152
life, like seeking promotion to higher offices. It is clear that the
bomoh is not looked upon simply as the curer of illness; his func-
tion extends further than strictly medical chores. Moreover, it is
the Malay world-view that sickness in not confined only to physi-
cal or psychological disorders: it also includes inexplicable disor-
ders of the kind brought about by inappropriate or unethical beha-
viour.
There are basically two types of causes to illnesses or disorders:
the natural causes as manifested in such disorders as fractures,
dislocations or sprains; wounds and cuts; tiredness or general
debility because of over-work or old age (this may include impo-
tency, which may also be brought on by supernatural means —

e.g. witchcraft); food, which is either too much of hot food or too
much of cold food; the “wind” (angin), that is too much wind in
the body (and this may even be caused by taking “windy” food);
poison which also include “santou”, the fine hair from the bam-
boo which when taken will affect the gullet and the digestive
tracts;’° poisonous blood (darah kotor) which may manifest in
headaches or boils in the skin; or the imbalance of the four ele-
ments in the body — earth, water, fire and wind. As already said
above, the introduction of simple hygiene books to vernacular
schools for the past 80 years or so has brought to common know-
ledge the concept of germs (kuman) as the cause of disease. Illnes-
ses such as the common cold, influenza, etc. are simply attributed
to the “germs”. Malaria, for example, which at one time was be-
lieved to have been caused by supernatural agents, is now widely
known as to be caused by the Anopheles mosquito. This is on
example where modern medical knowledge has become part and
parcel of the people’s medical world-view. And the cure for these
naturally caused disorders varies according to the concept of the
causes. Thus too much “wind” would require its reduction in the
body; the taking of poison requires an antidote (“penawar”), a
dislocation or fracture would need the attention of the bonesetter;
wounds and cuts would first of all require bleeding to be arrested;
the imbalance of the body elements would have to be redressed so
as they can be irj harmony again. Even the idea of quarantine in
combating epidemics is not new to Malay medical concepts.”
It is in the supernatural causes that we find a greater variety of
concepts and notions. High on the list are disorders caused by
what may be called unethical or inappropriate behaviour. It is part
of the belief-system of the Malays that certain behaviour may
bring retribution or sanction from supernatural beings. It is not

153
unusual to hear people saying that one is afflicted by an incurable
or lingering illness because Allah has chosen to show his displea-
sure, and in such cases, the sufferer’s only recourse is to undergo
repentance (taubat) and seek His pardon. However, such diagno-
sis is said only in very special circumstances. This is just to illu-
strate how inextricably bound the notion of medicine is with reli-
gious belief. It should be explained that the notion of supernatural
sanction or retribution for inappropriate behaviour even predates
the acceptance of Islam among the Malays. There was, for exam-
ple, the notion of “ketulahan’~which means a curse which befalls
an ordinary person who dares to transgress the sanctity of the
royalty. Another term for the same idea is “ditimpa daulat”
which refers to one’s suffering ,e.g. from an incurable skin disea-
se (kedal) because he dares to break the social barrier or disobey a
,

royal command. In other words, the idea of sickness is so much

related to one’s station and behaviour in society that its causes
stem from not observing the right conduct expected. And the sanc-
tion comes from the supernatural powers within the belief-system
of the people concerned.
The belief in spirits is paramount in the concept of sickness.
From the simple transgression against the spirits which are belie-
ved to be around us (tersampuk, tertegur) to the possession of a
person by a fimiliar spirit (polong or pelesit) the cure can only be
effected by the bomoh. In the first instance, the victim or the
patient has unwittingly upset or incurred the wrath of the spirits,
and this is only diagnosed by the bomoh when he is consulted. He
will even identify the spirit which is causing the illness. It often
happens to children who while playing may unknowingly disturb
the abode of the spirits. There are places and natural objects such
as trees and hillocks which are regarded as the territory of these
spirits. So when a boy falls ill, the bomoh is consulted. If it is diag-
nosed that a certain spirit has caused the illness, the bomoh will
then communicate with the responsibl~spirit and try to persuade
the spirit to leave the victim alone. The invocation of the origin of
these spirits seems to be the key to the cure of such illnesses. The
other common cause of illness is the possession of a person by
familiar spirits (polong or pelesit) belonging to a person (the pos-
sessor of a familiar is often called ibu or mother of the spirit).
Usually the victim who is possessed by the polong or pelesit would
be hysterical, and he can only be calmed down by the bomoh who
induces the spirit to return to the owner. Precautions are often
taken against polong or pelesit especially when it Is rumoured that
,

154
such and such a person, usually an old woman in the village, pos-
sesses the polong. The examples given here illustrate the two
basic notions of the intervention by the spirit which would cause
illness: one is brought about by noxious spirits, thus causing sick-
ness, while the other is brought about by man through the agency
of spirits. An outbreak of cholera or small-pox, for example, was at
one time thought to have been caused by malevolent spirits, and
the way the bomoh combated it was by enticing away the spirits
with a beautifully decorated boat (lancang), which at the end of the
ritual was pushed out to the sea or mid-stream, hopefully with the
culprits aboard. There are many ailments which are attributed to
the work of the noxious spirits, and the work of the bomoh is to rid
the patient of them with the esoteric knowledge which only the
bomoh has. The second example, like witchcraft, often stems from
jealousies or attempts at settling old scores. Sickness is brought
about when familiars are sent by the owners to disturb (“rasuk”)
the victim. Again it is only the bomoh who is able to exercise and
induce the familiars to leave the victim.
Witchcraft (sihir) usually does not involve the spirits, but occult
or magical powers. Thus witchcraft would involve any of the
following: the use of magical symbols or diagrams (rajah); contagi-
ous magic (such as casting spells on parts of the body of the
victim — e.g. dress, nail paring or even footsteps left in sand);
immitative magic (like putting spells on a person by sticking pins
into the victim’s photographs or wax dolls resembling the victim);
or the use of magical objects like the projectile called tuju (which is
supposed to pierce the heart of the victim). There are many other
ways to cause sickness and discomfort to the intended victim. The
spiritual beings used in witchcraft are often vague in entity, and
these are only invoked In the incantations or spells (mentera, jampi
and serapah) It has been theorised that in the notion of magic, it is
.

the word that carries the occult power, not so much the super-
natural entity invoked. Thus in witchcraft, the name
of Rama and Sita are invoked in rituals to entice the soul of an
intended victim (usually the object of love). Thus through the
practice of witchcraft, a person affected by it is said to be sick. And
the term “sick” depends much on how the situation is looked
upon. One good example is when the parents disapprove of their
daughter’s own choice of boyfriend. It is often claimed that she is
“sick”, bewitched by the magic perpetrated by the boy. It is only
a natural recourse for the parents to seek the help of the bomoh to
“cure” the girl’s “sickness”. In the world-view of the people

155
concerned, it is a “sickness”, and it is within the pu!view of the
bomoh to “cure” such sickness. The simplest explanation here is
that the “soul” (semangat) of the girl has been enticed away, and
thus she is “lifeless” and put at the mercy of the boy’s wishes. The
bomoh, therefore, has to restore the lost “soul”, fortify it, and
perhaps even make sure that there is no relapse by implanting in her
the “pembenci” (aversion) against the boy.
I have pointed out in my previous paper that in the Malay world-
view the efficacy of the bomoh does not lie primarily on his “know-
ledge”, but rater on his “charisma”. The bomoh is actually a
conglomerate of a shaman, a herbalist, a diviner, a curer and a
psychiatrist. As a shaman he communicates with the spirit world;
as a herbalist he has knowledge of the materia medica; as a diviner
he not only diagnoses the cause of illness but is also able to foretell
the future course of events (e.g. in matters of marriage, divorce
and reconciliation); as a curer he cures the sick; and as a psychia-
trist he overcomes one’s emotional disorder. It is unvoidable that
the premise underlying the institution is the belief in the super-
natural. The old Malay shaman has the endowed qualities of
communicating with the spirits through his familiar. This is the
mainstay of the bomoh’s practice. It is true that one can become a
bomoh through apprenticeship, that is by learning to be one, but
the final test is whether or not he is able to absorb the charisma of
the teacher (peturun). One does not have to learn to become a
bomoh, for if a person has the charisma, the office of the bomoh
comes naturally to him like a revelation. Most of the bomohs would
then have a familiar, and the favourite term for it is “tuan-puteri”
or “princess”. So the diagnosis and the remedy for an ailment is
received from the familiar through the bomoh. It is a common sight
to see the bomoh communicating with the familiar spirit in a
strange language. Once he comes out of. the spiritual communica-
tion, he may not even remember or know of what has been said.
That is the reason why there is need for an “interpreter” who
interpretes the conversation between the bomoh and his familiar
fpr the benefit of the patient. The remedy is also given during the
course of this communication. Whatever it is, what the bomoh
does, confirms the expectations of his audience, for it is part of the
culture’s world-view that there are ~pints which can inteivene in
the life of man, and that there are the chosen few who can
communicate with these beings because they have the charisma.
The bo.moh and what he stands for is an old institution in Malay
culture. Despite the conversion to Islam, which, ideally speaking,

156
is uncompromisingly monotheistic, the institution has survived
and in fact has even taken over elements brought about by the Is-
lamic civilisations. Writings on medicine as evidenced by the kitab.
tibs have not been objected to by the religious authorities. It is only
those aspects which involve trafficking with the spirit world not
acceptable to strict Islamic tenets that the religious authorities
object to. However, as a social institution, the bomoh occupies a
peripheral zone in Malay culture: it lacks the official recognition by
society as opposed to religion (or even popular worship like the
keramat), but it is at the same time taken for granted as part and
parcel of Malay community life. No Malay community is complete
without the bomoh (or pawang). I have not known of any bomoh
besides Nik Abdul Rahman bin Nik Dir of Kelantan who can claim
that he has been given a tauliah (letter of appointment) to be a
bomoh, although in the past, each royal court would have its own
royal bomoh Today, even with the spread and acceptance of
modern medicine into the remotest village, the institution of the
bomoh seems to survive. An American doctor once told me that his
work in the ulu’s (upstream) was made easier after he had joined
forces with the local bomohs. In fact, it is not out of character for
the bomoh today to advise his patient to consult the doctor, for he
himself is prone to using some of the common patent medicines for
his patient as well as for himself. The general world-view today is
that both western medicine and traditional folk medicine are paral-
lel medical systems working towards a common goal, that is to
alleviate suffering and pain, but each has its own way of achieving
results as each operates on its own premises and concepts. With
the presence of modern medicine the bomoh may not be as highly
regarded now as a curer of sickness, but as human suffering and
pain can go beyond the sickness curable by modern medicine, the
bomoh seems the be still in business.

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Abdullah Taib,’ Kepercayaan Masyarakat Kampung terhadap Perubatan Moden
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Abdul Rashid Abdul Rahman, Pawang di Kota TInggi (academic exercise. Dept. of
Malay Studies, University of Malaya, 1966).
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Malays of Upper Perak.” Man, III (1903), 27 — 28.
_....“Notes on the Popular Religion of the Patani Malays”, Man, III (1903).
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_________ “Primitive Beliefs and Customs of the Patani Fishermen”, and
“Religion and Magic Among the Malay of the Patani States 2 in Annandalbe, TN.
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__________“The Theory of Souls Among the Malays of the Malay Peninsula”
Journal of Asiatic Society, Bengal. n.s., (1909) 59 — 66.
Chen, P. C. Y. “Spirits and Medicine-Men Among Rural Malays” Far East Medical
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“Indigenous Malay Psychotherapy”, Trop. Geogr. Med., (1970),
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_________ Socio-cultural aspects of a cholera epidemic in Trengganu, Malaysia,
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__________ Socio-cultural influences on vitamin ‘A deficiency in a . rural Malay
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Indigenous Malay Surgery, Trop. Geogr Med., 25: 1973, 91 — 95.
Clarke, W.B. “Incantation and Sacrifice of the Pawang Ma’Yang” JMBRAS, III, 3
(1925), 106.
Calson, Anthony Clarke, The Prevention of Illness in a Malay Village: An
Analysis of Concepts and Cures Ph.D. Diss. Stamford University, 1969.
Coope, A.E. “The Floating Canon of Butterworth” JMBRAS, XX, 1 (1947),
126—128.
Cuisinier, Jeanne. Magic Dances of Kelantan (Dances Magiques de Kelantan,
Paris: Travaux et Memoires de I’Institut d’Ethnologie — XXII. University de Paris,
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Evans, Ivor H.N. “Two Malay Methods of Divination” JMBRAS, I, 1(1923), 247.
Gimlette, John D. “Some Superstitious Beliefs Occurring in the Theory and Pratices
ofMalay Medicine” JSBRAS, LXV (1913). 29—35.
~~‘A CuriosKelantan Charm” JSBRAS, LXXXVII (1920).
116— 118.
“Smoking over a Fire to Drive out an Evil Spirit” Man,
XX1V (1924), 28—39.
Malay Poison and Charm Cure London: J & A. Churchill, 1915.
_________ and H.W. Thomson. A Dictionary of Malayan Medicine, Kuala
Lumpur: Oxford University Press, 1971.
Hamdan Hj. Abd. Rahman. Konsep Kematian di kalangan Masyarakat Melayu
Kelantan (Academic Exercise, Dept. of Malay Studies, University of Malaya,
1970).
Hamilton, A.W. “Malay Love Charms” JMBRAS, IV, 1 (1926), 136—138. Hart,

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 Donn V. Bisayan Filipina and Malayan Humoral Pathologies: Folk Medicine
and Ethnohistory in Southeast Asia, Ithaca: Cornell University, 1969.
Hashim, Capt. N.M. “Malayan Spiritual Sidelights” JMBRAS, II, 1(1924), 84.
Laidlaw, F.F. “Note on the Invocation of Akuan” JMBRAS, 1, 2 (1923), 376—377.
Mahani Arshad. Kepercayaan Tradisional Orang-Orang Melayu (Academic
Exercise, Dept. of Malay Studies, University of Malaya, 1966).
Maxwell, W.E. “Shamanism in Perak JMBRAS, XII (1883), 222—232.
McHugh, J.N: “The Malay Hantu”. Straits limes Annual (1957), 58 — 59.
— .~...,..., Hantu-Hantu: Ghost Belief in Modern Malaya. Singapore: Donald

Moore, 1955.
Mohd. Fauzi Yaacob. Main Puteri (Academic Exercise, Dept. of Malay Studies,
University of Malaya, 1965).
Mohd. Ghazali Hj. Maulud. Seorang Bomoh Melayu: Satu Kajian Tentang Cara-
Cara Perubatan dan Ilmunya (Academic Exercise, Dept. of Malay Studies,
University ofMalaya, 1968).
Mohd. Taib Osman. Indigenous, Hindu and Islamic Elements in Malay Folk
Beliefs (Ph. D. thesis, Indiana University, 1967).
_________ Patterns of Supernatural Premises Underlying the Institution of the
Bomoh in Malay Culture, article in Bigdraen tot De Taal, Land-en Volkenkunde.
Mohd. Zain Mahmood “A Study of Keramat Worship (with special reference to
Singapore)” Diss. University of Malaya, 1959.
Rahmad Mohd. Noh Kepercayaan Masyarakat Kampung terhadap Perubatan
Moden dan Tradisional (Academic Exercise, Dept. of Malay Studies, University
of Malaya, 1967).
Skeat, W.W. “Some Records of Malay Magic by an Eye-Witness” JSBRAS, XXXI
(1898), 1—41.
Malay Magic (Being an Introduction to the folk-lore and Popular
Religion of the Malay Peninsula). London: MacMillan, 1900.
“Malay Spiritualism” Folk-lore, XIII (June, 1902), 134 — 165,
Taj-ul.Muluk. Singapore: Sulaiman Mar’i Publishing House, n.d.
Taylor E.B. “Malay Divining Rods” Man, 11(1902), 49 — 50.
Wan Husin W. Mustapha. Masyarakat Kampung dengan Kepercayaan Perubatan
Tradisional dan Moden (Academic Exercise, Dept. of Malay Studies, University
of Malaya, 1967).
Wilkinson, R.J. Malay Beliefs. London: Luzac & Co.:. Leiden, E. J. Brill, 1906.
Republished in JMBRAS, XXX, 4 (1957), 1—40.
Winstedt, R.O. “Propitiating the Spirit of a District.” JFMSM. IX (1920), 93—95.
___________ “Malay Charms. Pt. II. Miscellaneous”. JFMSM, IX (1920),
231—244.
“Malay Charms. Pt. I. Love Charms.” JFMSM, IX (1920), 129— 149.
___________ “Keramat: Sacred Places and Persons in Malaya” JMBRAS, II 2
(1924), 264—289.
“A Kelantan Invocation to the Earth Spirit” JMBRAS, III, 1 (1925),
83
~~‘A Perak Invocation to the Langsuyar.” JMBRAS, III, 1 (1925),
83—84.
~‘Notes on Malay Magic” JMBRAS, 111,3 (1925), 6—21.
________ “More Notes on Malay Magic” JMBRAS. V, 2 (1927), 342 — 347.

159
 “Cosmogony of the Malay Magician” in Bingkisan Budi (Een.
Bundal Opstellen and Dr. Philippus Samuel Van Ronkel door Vrienden en
Leerlingen aangeboden op Zijn Tachtigste Verjaardag 1 Augustus, 1950).
Leiden, 1950.
__________ The Malay Magician: Being Shaman, Saiva, and Sufi rev. ed.
London: Routledge and Paul, 1951.
Zainal Abidin Sulong. “The work of Bomoh in Kelantan.” Diss University of
Malay (Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia), 1957.
Zaleha Ismail. “Kepercayaan dan Upacara .Berhubung dengan Kelahiran Anak
(Beliefs and Rituals Connected with Childbirth)” Academic Exercise, Dept. of
Malay Studies, University of Malaya, 1961.
JMBRAS: Journal of the Malayan Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society.
JSBRAS: Journal of the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society.

Note.
1. Skeat, WW, Malay Magic (Being an Introduction to the Folk-lore and
Popular Religion of the Malay Peninsula). London: MacMillan, 1900. (This
book has been republished in paperback by Dover Publications, Inc., New
York).
2. Gimlefte. J.D., Malay Poisons and Charm Cures. London: J & A. Churchill,
1915. This book has been republished in paperback by Oxford University
Press, Kuala Lumpur, in 1971).
3. Sir Richard Winstedt has published a great deal of descriptive papers on the
Malay bomoh and the practice of Malay medicine, but his major work in this
area is The Malay Magician: Being Shaman, Saiva and Sufi, which was
first published in 1931. The revised edition appeared in 1951 (London:
Routledge and Keagan Paul).
4, The criticism against traditional medical beliefs and practices has been both
from the point of religious belief and modern medical practices. From the
viewpoint of the latter, see, for example, Dr. S. Hasmah binte M. Ali. “Effect
and Basic attitude — Health,” Intisari, Vol. 1, No. 4, 27 — 36.
5. Mohd. Taib Osman, “Patterns of Supernatural Premises Underlying the
Institution of the Bomoh in Malay Culture” Bijdragen tot de Taal—.
Land—en Volkenkunde 128, 219 — 234.
6. See Wolff, Robert J. “Modern Medicine and Traditional Culture: Con-
frontation on the Malay Peninsula” Human Organisation, XXIV, 4 (1965).
A local scholar who has written a number of papers on the subject is Dr. Paul
C.Y. Chen of the Medical Faculty of the University of Malaya. Two of them
may be mentioned here: “Spirits and Medicine-men among rural Malays.”
Far East medical Journal, V (March 1969), 84 — 87 and “Malay Folk
Medicine and Modern Medicine” (to be published soon in the Proceedings of
the Seminar on Oral Traditions 1973 by the Ministry of Culture, Youth
and Sports).
7. It should be explained that highly respected religious persons who in their life-
time are known to perform some miracles are also referred to as “keramat
hidup”, One example is Habib Noh whose mausoleum in Singapore is still a

160
 centre of worship for those seeking blessings or cures from illness. It seems
that when he was alive, he performed a great number or miracles~ (See
Muhammad Zain Mahmood, A Study of Kerarnat Worship with Special
Reference to Singapore. BA. Honours Dissertation. University of Malaya.
Singapore, 1959).
8. Berjin or berhantu are rituals in which the bomoh or the pawang would go
into a trance. For accounts of the various forms of such ritual. see Skeat’s
Malay Magic and Gimlette’s Malay Poisons and Charm Cures (Chapter IV).
9. Mohd Ghazali Hj. Maulud, Seorang Bornoh Melayu: Satu Kajian Tentang
Cara-cara Perubatan dan Ilmunya (A Malay Bomoh: A Study of the
methods and knowledge of his practice) Aca. Ex. Dept. of Malay Studies.
University of Malaya (1968).
10. For a list of poisons used by the Malays see Gimlette’s Malay Poisons and
Charm Cures, pp. 285 290.
11. See ibid. pp. 39 — 40.

161
11
PATfERNS OF SUPERNATURAL PREMISES
UNDERLYING THE INSTITUTION OF THE
BOMOH IN MALAY CULTURE

The heterogeneity of traditions which make up the culture ot

the Peninsular Malays and the complexity of the total fabric of the
culture woven from strands of diverse civilizations past and pre-
sent have drawn the attention of many scholars of Malay society
and culture. Scholars of Sir Richard Winstedt’s generation have
tackled these phenomena mainly from the historical point of view,
providing historical backgrounds and origins to the different com-
ponent elements which make up tHe present-day culture of the
Malays. It is important to know the nature of the historical back-
ground to the culture, for much of the present has to be explained
in terms of the past. But equally important is to explain how and to
what extent the different traditions are integrated meaningfully or
otherwise within the framework of an on-going cultural system. A
number of recent scholars have addressed themselves to this ques-
tion either specifically or tangentially. Anthropological studies on
single Malay communities would have to touch on this sort of prob-
lem, especially where it concerns beliefs, customs and social
values, Robert J. Wolff, in an article on the acceptance of m~x1ern
medicine in rural Malay society, compares the different traditions
in Malay culture with a cupboard, usually found in wealthier Ma-
lay homes, which exhibits an array of odds and ends. According to
him,
Perhaps Malay culture is like that, it is the cupboard in which

162
 are stored all the gifts from other cultures, not arranged in
any particular way. There is no connection between the items
on one shelf and those on the next — or even linkage among
th~items on a shelf. But they are all the possessions of one
1
person.
Others have seen an irreconcilable conflict between elements of
disparate traditions in Malay culture, particularly where it con-
cerns the opposition of Islam as the official religion to the reten-
tions consisting of inherited beliefs and practices of past ages.
Thus Prof. de Josselin de Jong describes the conflict between Adat
Perpateh of Negeri Sembilan and Hukum Syara’ (Islamic Law) as
one “Between two systems of ideals and practices, both of whk±i
were considered by the society concerned as being an integral of
its culture, both applicable to the entire society, and both perceived
as a system by inhabitants of that society.”2
However there have also been attempts to show that despite
apparent conflicts and discrepancies on the surface, it might be
possible to find some structural dan conceptual order and consis-
tency in the integration of the different cultural derivations in Ma-
lay culture. Apart from my own work,3 a recent book by Ki.. En-
dicott attempts to show that there exists a structural organization
in the world-view of Malay magical theories and practices.4 My
own work demonstrates that although Malay folk beliefs and rituals
are made up of elements of diverse origins, they form meaningful
units or cult institutions which are based on ideological premises
familiar to the culture. Historical background of’the different com-
ponent elements also helps to explain the characteristics these
elements take in intergrating with other elements. End~icott’swork
is a detailed analysis of the complex structural relationships bet-
ween the material world and the supernatural realm that can be
extracted from the symbolic and expressive rituals and spells
found in the literature on Malay magic published so far. Although
the work is based entirely on published works, and the writer
did not have a first-hand knowledge of the culture of which
the magical tradition is only a small part, it is an important work
for it represests the first attempt to analyse in depth the structure
of an aspect of Malay world-view. The assumption posed by En-
dicott and myself in our works is that despite the differences in
traditions, the component items in Malay culture, even if they are
apparently opposed to one another, have an underlying meaning-
ful order and an analysable relationship among themselves within
the world-view of the culture.

163
 What this paper hopes to do is to examine the institution of the
bomoh, the traditional practitioner of Malay folk medicine. Per-
haps there is no other social institution in Malay culture today
which enjoys a longer continuity and yet is fully functional in
everyday life when compared to the institution of bomoh. In it, one
is able to see cultural accretions from the earliest period of the Ma-
lays’ history to the present. It therefore offers us an opportunity to
see how elements from the different traditions feature within a
single institution. The aim is to see whether or not the patterns of
supernatural premises underlying the notion of the work of the
bomoh are consistent v~nthin themselves and consonant with the
general belief system of the culture.
The total belief system in Malay culture today can be graphically
pictured as interactions between Islamic ideals, inherited traditio-
nal beliefs and empirical or scientific knowledge which form the
three points A, B and C of a hypothetical triangle:5
— —

A Islamic Ideals

Inherited Empirical or
Traditional B scientific knowledge
Beliefs

On the ideal level, as typical of a Muslim community everywhere,

prescribed Islamic teachings and practices are the paramount
goals towards which members of the community are supposed to
strive. But on the behaviourial level, the Islamic ideals have to con-
tend with local beliefs or adat as well as scientific knowledge
which, in the case of most Muslim communities, is mainly brought
about by the process of westemisation of these cultures (although
a great deal of modern sciences have their roots in the Islamic civi-
lisation). An example of the interaction between Islamic ideals and
westernisation (line AC) can be shown in a situation where the
modern banking system, which is an essential part of the economic
development of developing countries, comes into conflict with the
Islamic law on interests. Such a conflict may be resolved by an
interpretation given as a fatwa (ruling) by a consesses of scholars.
The interaction between Islamic ideals and local traditional beliefs

164
(line AB) is a constant feature of a Muslim community. An injunc-
tion may be made in the name of Islam prohibiting the practice of
a certain local custom; or certain reinterpretations are made so as
to give “Islamic” meaning to a local belief; or it is possible that
traditional local beliefs system fulfilling the pragmatic and imme-
diate needs of day-to-day living side by side with the “formal”
religion which serves the more transcendental needs. The interac-
tion between traditional beliefs and scientific khowledge (line BC)
is exemplified in the problem of modern medicine having to com-
pete with traditional medicine and concept of health.
Ideally, the institution of bomoh stands at point B ,of qur triang-
le, but in practice, it is anywhere along line ~ It is, however, in
constant interaction with the other two points. But its interaction
with each of the other two points is of a different nature. With
point A, the interaction is mostly on the plane of supernatural pre-
mises. While the institution of bomoh had as its origin theories and
concepts regarding illnesses and their cure based on animistic pre-
mises, it now has to contend with the teachings of monotheistic Is-
lam where ill health or otherwise emanates only from the Almigh-
ty. It is within this context that we get the patterns of supernatural
premises rationalising the institution of bomoh: on the one hand it
is based on the Old Indonesian belief in semangat and spirits and
on the other it is drawn towards a position where it is conceived as
being consonant with the teachings of Islam. But the whole picture
would reveal to us the traditional Malay world- view in regard to
the causation, nature and the cure of illnesses.
The interaction on line BC is entirely of a different nature. The
problem here really is the introduction to and acceptance of
modem medicine based on empirical or scientific knowledge in a
culture whose traditional medical premises are entirely different.
Thus, a Malay lady doctor who had first hand experience of the
problem lamented the fact that her people, especially the rural
population, were slow in accepting scientific medical treatment
because they were still steadfastly holding on to traditional beliefs,
7 She was hopeful, however, that “in
customs and social values.
time to come, scientific medical thinking will completely replace
the ancient beliefs and superstitions”. The problem is actually not
medical in nature but cultural. Thus Wolff recognises that to make
Western scientific medicine to be truly accepted, “it is necessary
to acquaint the people not only with modern tools, more efftcient
techniques, but with a new and accçptable way of thinking about
disease, about causation of disease, about treatment of disease” 8

165
However, where it concerns Malay culture, Wolff thinks that it is
“doubly difficult’ to introduce Western medicine because of the
very nature of the Malay culture itself. According to him,
the introdution of Western medical services to the Ma-
lays is difficult not just because there is a conflict of cultu-
res
— it is perhaps doubly difficult because the elements of
our Western medical subculture are bound together in a
meaningful, causal, logical sequence, whereas Malay culture
does not recognise any such kind of order, except the order he
perceives in the world around him, an order which is the har-
mony between not necessarily related phenomena.9
A lecturer in social medicine, Dr. Paul C. Y. Chen, who addres-
ses himself to the same problem, however, sees the problem as
arising from a lack in cultural communications between the
modern medical practitioners and the rural Malays. He ventures
that “the various elements in rural Malay culture form strongly
coherent patterns, and supply an internally consistent explanation
for all that happens, which is reassuring to the rural Malay.”1°
Thus, unless modern medicine can form part of the “coherent
culture patterns” of the rural Malays, it will not be easily accepted
by them.
It is a fact that modern medicine has come to stay in Malay cul-
ture, but the problem of introducing it speedily and effectively to
the rural Malays is very real. Much of the answer may be found in
the traditional Malay world-view regarding illnesses and their
cure, and no other institution on the culture which is more relevant
to the question than that of the bomoh. Embedded in the world-
view regarding the work of the bomoh are the Malays’ traditional
concepts of the causation, nature and treatment of diseases. It is
therefore useful for us to see what are the patterns of the assump-
tions regarding the supernatural which govern the office of the
Malay bomoh.
An ordinary Malay is generally aware of the distinction between
what is approved by Islamic teachings and what belongs to the
realm of the folk beliefs. Similarly, he is aware of the distinction
between traditional or folk medicine as represented by the bomoh
and modern western medicine as represented by the doctors, dres-
sers, hospitals, travelling clinics and rural government midwives.
It is usual to hear the Malay villagers talking about “ubat cam
lama” (old style of medicine) or “kepercayaan orang tua-tua”
(old beliefs) in contradiction to “ubat orang putih” (white

166
man’s medicine) or “ajaran Islam” (Islamic teachings). But he
may not know for sure where the demarcation line really is when it
comes to folk beliefs and Islamic teachings. In a Muslim commu-
nity in Selangor where a field study was conducted recently, refe-
rence was often made by the villagers to those who are
pious and knowledgeable in religious matters as opposed to the
ordinary people who only know the basic requirements of being
Muslim)’ The former are often referred to as “ahli agama” or
“orang masjid” and it is they who would be relied upon to tell
,

with some degree of authority what is approved and what is not

from the Islamic point of view. Even the bomoh may speak of his
vocation defensive’y and refer to the belief in spirits as “keperco-
yaan karut” (spurious beliefs) 12 Or he would resort to various
ways of rationalising his practice so as to make it consonant with
Islam traditions. However, although the bomoh is being hemmed
in from both sides, Islamic teachings on one side and modern
medical knowledge on the other, the need for bomoh continues-to
be felt not only among the village folk but also among the town
dwellers. Not a few well-known bomohs have built up their reputa-
tion through services rendered to the town people. and such
bomohs~’clientele usually include non-Malays as well.’~It is clear
that as long as there exist human problems or ailments which reli-
gion or modern medicine cannot satisfactorily solves, such social
institutions as that of the bomoh, will continue to flourish.
In a Malay village community, the bomoh exists side by side
with the imam, and what he stands for coeusts with the Muslim
code of belief and practice. Conflicts do arise, but these may be
resolved by reinterpretations, although the more religious mem-
bers of the community would not normally associate themselves
with the work of thebomoh.’4 The situation in a village community
is usually fluid, for the bomoh may turn out to be a person recogni-
sed for his piety and religious knowledge. But such a person, al-
though admitting he is a bomoh, would always claim that his prac-
tice is consonant with Islamic teachings. Two of the three bomohs
mentioned in the study on a Muslim community in Selangor cited
just now were recognised as belonging to the category of “ahil
agama” in their community. However, there are bomohs who are
better known for their possession of esoteric i/mu which only they
themselves can explain. Others claim that they have familiars to
help them in their work. The well-known royal bomoh of Kelantan,
Pak Nik Abdul Rahman, insists that his llmu is based on the philo-
sophy of the wayang ku/it (i/mu perwayangan)’5 Because of the

167
periphery nature of the bomoh’s ilmu and his ambiguous status
in a Malay community, the attitude towards the bomoh, as pointed
out by Michael Swift, is usually ambivalent.’6 The bomoh is an
indispensable figure in a Malay village: in fact, without a bomoh,
the village community is felt to be incomplete. But it is also a
common belief among Malays that however large a bomoh ‘s ear-
nings are, they cannot bring him happiness or riches because his
ilmu is hot (panas). And moreover since a bomoh may traffick with
those forces of evil, his end will come on his deathbed in a pain-
fully lingering manner.
It should be borne in mind too that Islam recognises the exi-
stence of magic (sihir), but the practice is forbidden because it is
regarded as the work of evil creatures such as the devil (syaitan or
iblis) and the “infidel jin”. The place of bomoh in a Malay com-
munity is not to be looked at as an institution outside the character
of the community as a Muslim community, but rather as part of it.
Sometimes a ceremony propitiating~the spirits conducted by the
bomoh is even concluded with a religious prayer (doo), and when
this happens, the imam has to give his cooperation. The imam and
the bomoh in a Malay village community thus represent two
worlds of supernatural beliefs represented.by points A and B on
our triangle. The two need not always be conflicting; in fact, they
are often complementary to one another. While the imam is impor-
tant in matters pertaining to religion, esp~ciallywhere it concerns
the salvation of one’s soul in the next world, the bomoh is an
important member of the community whose services in dealing
with everyday immediate problems, especially in the healing of
sickness, are much sought after. The “Ninety-Nine Laws” of Pe-
rak, an eighteenth century compilation of the customary laws of
the state, postulates that the villages must not only feed the dist-
rict judge and the officials of the mosque, but also the m~gician
and midwife.’7 The code also lays down the code of conduct, the
duties and the fees of the pawang.’8 It is said that as “the muezzin
is king in the mosque, the magici~pis king in the house of the sick,
in the rice-field and on the mine” 19
The institution of bomoh is built upon elements from diverse
traditions, indigenous as well as foreign. The ilmu of the bomoh is
not wholly based on supernatural premises such as the control and
manipulation of semangat, communication with spiritual beings or
the use of objects with extraordinary powers. A good deal of the
ilmu is made up of the knowledge of herbs and poisons, bloodlet-
ting, bone setting, humoral pathology or simple hygiene. But the

168
ilmu is not what makes a bomoh a bomoh: It is more on the quali-
ties ascribed by the culture to the office occupied by a person that
causes one to be accepted as a bomoh. Even the spells and rituals
performed by the bomoh are not so much his ilmu or something
personally attributed to him, but rather they are an inheritance
from the past or a revelation communicated in a dream. In other
words, it is the institution rather than the person or his ilmu which
is significant for the bomoh in the eyes of his culture.
The prototype of the present day bomoh must be the shaman of
the old Indonesian civilization. It is by examining the institution
itself that we may get the general ideas underlying the super-
natural premises of the bomoh’s office. The need to give the office
an Islamic character usually leads to a claim that the institution has
an Islamic genesis. Most Malay bomohs ascribe the origin of their
office to the legendary figure of Luqman al-Hakim. Oral tales and
legends accounting such genesis also cite Hindu deities and indi-
genous spirits, but they form a cohesive tradition explaining the
origin of bomoh. The name, of Luqman al-Hakim is often corrupt-
ed in the accounts given by the bomohs, but it is unmistakable
that the great sage of the Arabian tradition has provided the Malay
bomoh with a convenient patron drawn from Islamic traditions.
It is possible that at one time the office of the magician and that
of the king or chief were identical in Malay society. The Old Indo-
nesian chief or king was probably elected by common consent and
regarded as the keeper of traditions and customs. Only when the
institution of the royal court became more developed under Indian
influence and the Hindu Brahmin became the chief religious and
magical consultant to the king did the office of the bomoh (or
pawang) come to be identified with the peasantry. Galqstin and
Locher have pointed out, taking Java as an example, that while
Hindu culture thrived in the royal courts, there were to be found in
the villages forms of magic, ceremonial dances and oral litera-
ture connected with fertility of the crops or the family, with the
cult of the forefathers and of the dead.2°The same may be said
for Malay culture. Once a “Great Tradition” was created, first
through Hindu influence and later under Islamic civilisation, in
urban royal centres, indigenous traditions which continued to live
among the rural masses became the “Little Tradition” of Malay
civilisation.2’ It is in the latter “part-culture” that the tradition of
Malay bomoh has continued to live on. In the practices of the
bomoh, the vestiges of the Bronze Age Indonesian Shamanism are
still to be seen. But, as Quaritch Wales has pointed out, shama-

169
nistic rituals among most of the Indonesian groups today, inclu-
ding the Peninsular Malays, have been much influeced by ele-
ments of Hinduism and Islam.22 The traces of the Old Indonesian
shamanism are to be observed mainly in the spirit-raising seances
performed by specially qualified bomoh. But, not all the bomohs
are credited with the ability to perform a seance or go into a trance.
Hinduism too apparently has left its mark on the office of the
Malay bomoh. An incantation claims that “Siva the Teacher, the
Light to Muhammad and Luqman al-Hakim were the rna9icians
of old and I (the bomoh) am the fourth magician 23 The implica-
tion here is that the office of the pawang has its roots in an impres-
sive array of powerful beings: Siva, the Divine Teacher of the
Brahmins; The Light of Muhammad, which is a mystical concept
that the soul of the Holy Prophet has pre-existed before his time as
the predestined essence of the last prophet; and Luqman al-
Hakim. The ideas embodied here can be traced to the sources
which have contributed to Malay folk beliefs, Siva, or Batara Guru,
as the Hindu god is better known among the Malays, is the Divine
Teacher who held an important place in the religious and magical
scheme of the Brahmins in the Hindu-Indonesian society of the
past.24 The magical notions attributed to Batara Guru have their
roots in the influence of the Brahmins. The Light Of Muhammad is
essentially a mystical speculatian of the Sufis concerned with the
“immaculate pedigree” of the Holy Prophet since Adam.25 Accor-
ding to Sufi thought,. the light — a dense and luminous point —

was the pre-existence of the Prophet himself. But what has come
to the Malay folk is the more popular form of the concept diffused
by popular tales of Persian provenence, like the Hikayat Nur Mu-
hammad (The Tale of the Light of Muhammad). It should be noted
that the conceptualisation of the Light of Muhammad arises from
the philosophical thoughts of the Sufis inquiring into the relation-
ship of Muhammad as the last and promised Apostle of God to the
preceding prophets. But the form that it takes in the Malay folk
traditions must have originated from the popular versions couched
in terms easily comprehended by the common people or as the
result of a filtration of Sufi ideas prevailing in the scholarly atmo-
sphere of the royal courts to the common folk or rakyat.26
The antiquity of the office of the bomoh is reflected by the usual
reference to the primordial first or original bomoh or pawang
(“Pawang Yang Tua” or ‘~BomohYang Asal”) who, according to
some accounts, predates Siva, Prophet Muhammad, or sometimes
even Allah. In a genesis recorded by Skeat, the original pawarig

170
precedes Allah27atWinstedt
one pointhas
while at another both aretosaid
the to be that
one
drawn out attention fact
and the same.
the idea of god being a magician is common in Indonesian and
Semitic magic.28 One version traces the original bomoh to the child-
ren of Adam, while another accounts for the “four original
pawang” as the creation of Allah (sahabat lembaga Adam).29 The
identification of Allah with the original bomoh and the use of Is-
lamic notions of creation in the genesis of the bomoh represent
some of the attempts to give new interpretations to an old institu-
tion. Another example of this fact is to be seen in the association
of the first pawang with the berpuar ritual practised in Negeri
Sembilan. The berpuar which is in the form of a mock combat bet-
,

ween the forces of good and evil, is an ancient Indonesian ritual

connected with rice cultivation still observed by some of the tribal
groups in Nusantara. According to the legend of the origin of ber-
puar and that of the office of pawang, Allah gave Jibrail (Gabriel)
“a Book in which could be found effective prescriptions for all ail-
ments and through the medium of certain formulae, miracles could
be performed, such for instance, as raising the dead to life, conver-
ting grey or -white hair to black and making the old regain their
youth” 30
These accounts represent the esoteric lore of the Malay bomoh
and there are many versions of them. However, they usually dis-
play the same characteristic, that is a blending of inherited lore
with elements from Islamic traditions. This fact represents the
interaction on line AB of our triangle. While the institution itself
has its roots in the inherited traditions of the culture, it has been
drawn through time by the need to conform to a new world-view
brought by the teachings of Islam to a point closer to Islamic
ideals. Although the resultant form as seep in those accounts given
above may not satisfy or meet the ideals of Islamic code, it never-
theless represents a world-view consonant within itself as far as
the practitioners and members of the culture are concerned. And
this world-view perceives the office of the bomoh as one which is
supernatural, or almost, in nature. It is similar to the concept of
the semi-divinity of the Malay kings in the past as embodied in the
ideas of daulat and tulah. Although it is not so at persent, the of-
fice of pawang or bomoh at one time had a regalia of its own,3’ just
like every Malay sultanate having its regalia, the possession of
which is the proof of one’s right to the sacred and highest office in
a traditional Malay state. As said above, the interaction on line AB
of our triangle is on a supernatural plane or of a supernatural

171
dimension. Any reinterpretation made on the original institution in
favour of Islamic ideas as conceived and understood by the people
themselves is effected on the same plane, that is on a supernatural
plane. This will become clear to us when we consider how one
assumes the office of bomoh.
There are two fundamental ways by which one can become a
bomoh. The first is to acquire by learning (menuntut) the ilmu
from another bomoh and the second is through an extraordinary
situation or experience, such as the inheritance of the special qua-
lity within a family (baka), a dream, possession of a helper spirit
(akaun), chance encounter with a supernatural being or the acqui-
sition of objects which have the quality to care sickness. Becoming
a bomoh does not only mean the acquisition of the i/mu, but also
the transference of the teacher’s special endowment (peturun) to
the pupil. The pupil then reciprocates with gifts (asam garam)
which are more of symbolic rather than of material value. Jeanne
Cuisinier has rightly observed that the acquisition of the
i/mu is not merely a transference of esoteric knowledge but rather
an inheritance from the original bomoh.’2 The esoteric lore of the
bomoh is usually not communicated to the uninitiated, but it is not
a rare thing to find the knowledge compiled in books usually refer-
red to as Kitab Tib. A 500 page manuscript I recently purchased
from Pak Nik Abdul Rahman, the royal bomoh of Kelantan, con-
tains 147 fasal (subjects) dealing with the cure for all kinds of
illnesses known to the Malays. But, it is not the knowledge that is
of significance to the practice of the bomoh, it is the mystical al-
most sacred qualities that one must infuse one-self with, or one
must acquire for oneself, that will ultimately influence one’s
assumption of the office, and, later, efficacy as a bomoh. There are
many special prescriptions and proscriptions to be observed by a
bomoh, not only during his period of apprenticeship but also after
becoming a full-fledged specialist. He may have to avoid certain
type of food, perform certain special tasks or behave in a certain
manner, all of which would indicate his distinction from the or-
dinary people.
It is becauce of the cultural world-view which lays more
emphasis on the extraordinary qualities of the bomoh, especially
those wich create an aura of almost supernatural character around
the person of the bomoh, that the second method of becoming a
bomoh assumes its significance. The special c~ualitiesor powers
are acquired either directly, in which case it is usually an encoun-
ter with a spirit or revered figure in the attire usually conceived as

172
that of a Muslim pious man, or indirectly, which is through certain
signs (alamat). A well-known bomoh, who in everyday life was a
high-ranking army officer, acquired his special qualities not
through learning but primarily through spiritual agents.~3The spe-
cial qualities came to this bomoh over a long period of time
through dreams, extraordinary experiences and an encounter with
Prophet Khidir. The most common experience, however, is to be
informed by a spiritual being, usually a wa/i (sage), in a dream that
one is to become a bomoh. Usually, someone who is going to be
blessed by such a dream would receive the signs for some period
before the actual dream comes. It is also possible for someone to
obtain objects with miraculous powers to be used for curing sick-
nesses after being told about them in a dream. From the accounts
collected among those bomohs who had acquired office through
the second method, there is a definite leaning towards giving the
extraordinary experiences they had an Islamic bias. The robed
.figure who appears so often in the dreams of would-be bomohs
would invariably be Nabi Khidir, Luqman al-Hakim or a wa/i who
is known as a keramat in the locality. Even if the identity is not
clear, prefixes of Muslim connotation are given, such as
“Sheikh”, “Sayed” or “Habib” However, there are also referen-
.

ces to visitations by a penunggu (guardian spirit) of a place, com-

mon hantu (spirit) or souls of dead persons, but it is also quite
often to find these indigenous spiritual beings attired in flowing
robes, huge turbans and sweeping grey beard, the way a wall
Allah is often pictured in traditional Malay literature, especially in
classical Malay works and oral tales. Here again we are confronted
with further evidence of the integration of diverse traditions in
Malay culture.
It is also interesting to note that the bomoh is often distingui-
shed from a class of miracle-workers known in Malay culture as
“keramat hidup” , which can be loosely translated as “living
saints” While bomoh is ubiquitous in Malay society, keramat
hidup” is a rare phenomenon. There are two types of “keramat
hidup” : the pious ascetics who themselves do not claim of having
miraculous powers and those miracle-workers who claim that they
have been chosen by a known keramat to act as an intermediary.34
A distinguishing mark of a self-proclaimed “keramat hidup” is his
yellow robe. In fact, everything around him is decorated in yellow,
a colour representing sacredness in Malay symbolism. The
“keramat hidup” is of popular Islamic derivation in Malay culture
and is a comparatively recent introduction. Thus he differs, in the

173
conception of the Malays, from the bomoh, which is an indigenous
institution, even if it has accrued many Islamic elements and iden-
tification by now. Equally interesting to note is the fact that while
bomohs enjoy comparative freedom from the sanctions of the reli-
gious authorities, the same cannot be said for “keramat hidup”
As soon as it is known that someone is attracting a good following
as a “keramat hidup”, the officials from the Religious Affairs De-
partment are not slow in investigating the case. More often than
not, after such a visit, the “miracles” of the “keramat hidup”
would fizzle out and he would be chastised and made to return to
the true path of Islam. Thus, although diverse traditions can inter-
mingle in a coherent order in Malay culture, they can also be dis-
tinguished from one another in certain instances as we have seen
in the case of bomoh and “keramat hidup”.
What I have tried to show is that the institution of bomoh is
fundamentally based on supernatural premises. The patterns of
these premises are circumscribed by the indigenous traditional
order of the supernatural world on the one hand and the Islamic
ideals on the other. The patterns can also be conceived as the
results of interaction on line AB of our triangle. Historically spea-
king, the interaction has been taking place for centuries, that is
since the Islamisation of the Malay culture. The actual resultant
forms arising from the process differ and vary from situation to
situation, depending on the exact nature of the factors prevailing,
but what we can show are just the patterns that can emerge from
the whole process. Bearing in mind that the bomoh had been for
centuries the only social institution connected with the healing of
the sick, its importance does not lie only in the function it performs
in everyday life, but also in its influence on the world-view of the
Malay culture with regard to the causation, nature and cure of
sicknesses. We have seen that right from the beginning the insti-
tution of bomoh had been suffused with supernatural notions. It
was not unlike the idea of semi-divine kingship in the traditional
Malay political system. With the coming of Islam these super-
natural notions had undergone some changes with the inclusion of
elements from the Muslim civilisation. But what has remained
unchanged is the underlying supernatural dimension of the institu-
tion. In other words, whatever modification Islam has effected on
the institution of bomoh, it has been done mainly on the super-
natural plane. That is the reason why, I think, the institution has
not gone underground or disappeared with the ascendancy of Is-
lam in Malay culture. On the contrary, Islamic ideas have helped

174
to give new meaning to the institution of bomoh. And this is made
possible because the admixture of diverse traditions of the institu-
tion is quite capable of being coherently organised within the
framework of the world-view of Malay culture. Conflicts will
surely arise if the society chose to apply strictly the sanctions of
Islamic ideals, but this has been rare and far between in the histo-
ry of Malay society and culture.
The introduction of Western medicine and concept of sickness
has brought about a different kind of interaction. While the institu-
tion of bomoh is basically based on supernatural premises, that of
the modern medical practitioner is based on empirical research
and knowledge. The two thus meet on different planes or in diffe-
rent dimensions. As such the problem of the acceptance of modern
medicine in Malay society, especially rural society, is viewed as
arising from a competition between different premises regarding
the causation, nature and cause of diseases. Joseph Wolff has
noted that the problem is not one of rejection, for the rural Malays
do know about modern medicine, but rather one of rearranging the
world-view of Malay culture so that modern medicine will form
an integral part of it and not something simply hooked on to it. We
have noted that cultural change brought about by. Islam has not
changed fundamentally the premises which underlie the institu-
tion of bomoh: thus the Malay world-view regarding diseases and
their cure did not have to undergo drastic reorientations. But the
same cannot be said for the confrontation between traditional and
modern medicar concepts in Malay culture. The Islamisation of
Malay culture since five hundred years ago has seen the retention
of the same institution for solving the problems of health and
illness. But with the acceptance of modern medinice there exist
two distinguishable institutions which serve as alternatives for
tackling the same problem. Thus it is “ikhtiar” (resourcefulness)
for a western educated Malay, who under normal circumstances
would only rely on modern medical skills, to consult the bomoh
when the situation seems hopeless. Similarly, a Malay who is still
reluctant to trust other than the bomoh will accept modern medical
treatment if the situation demands it, although sometimes it is too
late to be of any good. To the modern medical practitioner charged
with administering western medicine to rural Malay folk, the res-
ponse can be quite frustrating, but the phenomenon is explicable
in terms of traditional Malay world-view regarding medicine.

175
Notes
1. Wolff. Robert J.. Modern Medicine and Traditional Culture: Confrontation
on the Malay Peninsula” Human Organisation. XXIV, 4 (1965), 343.
2. De Josselin de Jong. P.E Islam versus Adat in Negeri Sembilan (Malaya)
Bijdragen Koninklijk Institut uoor Taal-Landen, Volkenkunde, CXVI,
1 (1960). 203.
3. Mohd. Taib bin Osman. “Indigenous. Hindu. and Islamic Elements in Malay
Folk Beliefs’ Ph.D. Diss.. Indiana University (Bloomington. Indiana. U.S.A ).
1967.
4. Endicoot, Kirk Michael, An Analysis of Malay Magic, Oxford Unv. Press,
1970. By world-view. I mean the system of ideas which members ol a culture
hold about things around them. In other words, it is the way things are pictured
or conceived by them as a “reality”.
5. This diagram is presented here mainly for convenience It represents the ideal
situation only. In actual everyday happening. it is possible to get elements of
A + B standing in opposition to C. elements B and C combining harmoniously
together and so on.
6. It may even be at point BC. for it is known, although never admitted. that
some bomohs surreptitiously make use of patent medicine and powdered
aspirin pills.
7. Dr. S. Hasmah binte M. All, “Effect on a Basic Attitude — Health” Intisari,
Vol. 1. No 4. 27—.36.
8. ‘Modern Medicine and Traditional Culture: Confrontation on the Malay
Peninsula” pp. 334—345.
9. Ibid.. pg. 345.
10. “Spirits and Medicine-men among rural Malays” Far East Medical Journal,
V (March). 1969. 84—87.
11. See Mohd. Aris bin Hj. Othman “Agama Islam dan kepercayaan Tradisional
dalam Sebuah Kariah di Selangor” Diss., University of Malaya (Dept. of Malay
Studies). 1957. p. 6.
12. Zainal Abidin Sulong, “The Work of Bomoh in Kelantan”, academic exercise,
University of Malaya (Dept. of Mala~Studies). 1957. p. 6.
13. A detailed study of one such .bomoh is found in Mohd. Ghazali bin Hj.
Maulud, “Seorang Bomoh Melayu: Satu Kajian Tentang Cara Perubatan dan
Ilmunya” academic exercise. University of Malaya (Dept. of Malay Studies).
1957. p. 6.
14. For example, see Fraser Jr., Thomas M., Rusembilan: A Malay Fishing
Village in Southern Thailand. Cornell University Press, 1960, pp. 189 — 191.
15. Recorded interview with the writer. Simply put, the lamp, the screen (kelir),
the puppets and the dalang correspond with people (puppets), life (screen),
sun or energy (lamp) and the bomoh (dalang). To be able to control and
manipulate the puppets in a wayang performance is analogous to having a
knowledge of life and people.
16. Michael G. Swift, Malay Peasant Society in Jelebu, London, 1965, p. 165.
17. Winstedt, Richard 0., “More Notes on ~1alay Magic” Journal of the Royal
Asiatic Society Malayan Branch. V. 2 (1927), 346.
18. The terms pawang and bomoh are often used interchangeably. But in most

176
 places. the term bomoh refers to the specialist whose main vocation is healing,
while pawang refers to a more versatile practitioner of magic endowed with
many talents In Kelantan. and among the Malays in South Thailand the term
bornoh seems to be the general term used, although the pawang is also
known. An ordinary Malay may generally draw the distinction between
the functions of the pawang and bomoh, but he tends to place both the
specialists into one common institution of his culture mainly because he
regards their practices as commonly belonging to a domain of inherited
traditions from the past. Both the pawang and bomoh rely on the same lore of
spirit beliefs provided by their culture. Their institution in Malay folk culture
is basically one but it is necessary sometimes to draw a distinction in their
functions: bomoh as the specialist in folk medicine and pawang as the general
practitioner of magic
19. Winstedt. “More Notes on Malay Magic”.
21. UNESCO: Occasional Papers in Education. No. 8 p. 31.
21. 1 am using Robert Redfield’s concept of “Great” and “Little Traditions” as
found in his “The Social Organization of Tradition” in Peasant Society and
Culture, Chicago. 1956.
22. Prehistory and Religion in South East Asia (London: Quaritch, 1977),
pp. 73 — 74.
23. Winstedt, R.O., The Malay Magician, p. 72.
24. F.D.K. Bosch. Selected Studies in Indonesian Archaelogy (The Hague:
Martinus Nijhoff. l96l)p. 17.
25. Shorter Encyclopaedia of Islam. p. 452.
26. As pointed out by George M. Foster. many elements of the folk culture today
are derived through time from the culture of the preindustrial urban dwellers
which flourished at one time in the past (“What is Folk Culture?” American
Antropologist. Vol. 55. No. 21(1953). pp. 159 — 173).
27. Skeat. W.W.. Malay Magic (London: MacMillan, 1900). pp. 2 — 3. 581 — 582.
28. “Notes on Malay Magic” Journal of Royal Asiatic Society. Malayan Branch,
III. 3 (1925). 10.
29. Skeat, Ibid.. pp. 584 — 586.
30 Dato’ Sedia Raja Abdullah. “The Origin of Pawang and Berpuar Ceremony”
Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society. Malayan Branch. V. 2 (1927)
310 — 313.
31. See Blagden, CO., “Notes on the Folk-Lore and Popular Religion of the
Malays” Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, Straits Branch, XXIX (1896).
6.
32. Cuisinier, Jeanne. Dances Magiques de Kelantan (Paris: Institut d’Ethno’
logie. 1936). pp. 6 — 18.
33. Mohd. Ghazali b. Hj. Maulud. “Seorang Bomoh Melayu: Satu Kajian
34. For a discussion on keramat hidup. see my work. “Indigenous. Hindu and
Islamic Elements in Malay Folk Beliefs,” as cited above.

177
12
MYTH, RITUAL AND DRAMA: WITH PARTICULAR
REFERENCE TO THE NUSANTARA AREA

There appears to be a general agreement among scholars as to

the fact that there is a close relationship between myth, ritual and
drama, but it is the kind of relationship within this complex that
there seems to be disagreement. Thus, the “ritual view” of the so-
called “Cambridge School”, starting with the study of Greek
mythology and later expanding to other areas, has advanced the
theory of myth being derived from ritual (Hyman 1958 (2)). Jane
Harrison, who, as early as 19J2, had expressed the view that
“myth arises out of rite, rather than the reverse; that it is ‘the spo-
ken correlative of the acted, the thing done ‘; and that it is not
anything else of any other orgin” (Hyman (1958: 85). Lord Raglan,
who from the thirties to the fifties had consistently maintained that
myths have their origin in the rites connected with the sacrifice of
priest-kings or regicide. According to Raglan myth helps to rein-
force the belief in the efficacy of ritual. He says,
the supposed effect of the ritual are far less clearly appa-
rent, so that if belief in its efficacy is to be maintained, a more
complex type of faith is required. This is induced by myth
which links not merely between rituals of the past and the pre-
sent, but actually identifies the present, in its ritual aspects,
with a past conceived solely in terms of ritual — a past in
which superhuman figures devote themselves to the perfor-
mance of acts which are too prototypes of ritual. (Raglan
1956: 127).
178
 To Raglan, therefore, myth performs a dual function: to sanctify
and to standardise ritual. However, standardisation was not com-
plete before writing; those closely transcribed became ‘scriptures’
while the rest became oral tradition. Another point to be noted
regarding Raglan’s view is his belief in all myths being derived
from a common source, that is from the ancient rites involving the
sacrifice of priest-kings. He rejects the notion of preliterate people
having the ability to create myth or to think historically. However
he does recognise the possibility of the borrowed myths under-
going changes according to enviromment (Raglan 1956: 148).
The same view is held by many others as comprehensively
summarised and reviewed by Stanley E. Hyman, who himself
holds the same view (Hyman 1958: 84—88). Hyman also tries to
demonstrate that the psychological approach to the interpretation
of myth is quite compatible with the view that myth originates
from ritual (Hyman 1958: 88—89). As Hyman summarises it,
the ritual-view has illuminated the whole of Greek cul-
ture, including religion, philosophy, art, many of the forms of
literature, and much else. It has done the same for the games,
songs, and rhymes of children; the Old and New Testaments,
epics and romance, edda and saga, folk drama and dance,
folklore and legend; Near East religion, modern drama and
literature, even problems in history, law and science. (Flyman
1958—92).
He suggests with conviction that the same “ritual-view” can be
applied to other genres, even the blues of the Negroes and formal
literature. Thus we can say that even drama, from this point of
view, can be traced back to its ritual origin. Theodore H. Caster,
one of those sharing this view, attempts to demonstrate in his
book, Thespis, that “the factor which transmutes Ritual into
Drama is Myth”, at least in the case of festivals of seasons in the
ancient near East. The function of myth in transmuting ritual to
drama is “to translate the real into terms of the ideal, the punctual
into terms of the durative and transcendental” (Gaster 1950: 5). To
him the whole complex of myth, ritual, drama and seasonal
ceremonies has “religlo-social root”
The “ritual-view” has met not so much with criticism but rather
with a note of caution from later anthropologists. In a spirited reply
to Bascom‘s criticism of Raglan (Bascom 1957), Hyman makes a
distinction between the approaches of the anthropologists and
those of the students of folklore. According to him, the “ritual-

179
view has been adequately demonstrated by scholars working on
folklore materials (Hyman 1957). Looking at most of the works
propounding “ritual-view”, we may note that most of them deal
with materials from literate societies, while the concern of the
anthropologists have been with the pre-literate ones. It does
appear that the arguments over the primacy of myth over ritual or
vice-versa are unnecessary and the disagreement seems to be the
result of nothing more than a dogmatic application of a theory to
all kinds of situations. As Herskovits puts it, not only is the diffe-
rentiation of “savages and primitives” as against the “civilised”
has to be considered, but each cultural unit will have to be dealt
with individually (Herskovits 1958: 110). Another pertinent point
raised by Herskovits against the holding of a fixed theory is the
fact that such a theory tends to ignore the questions of variants and
changes; to him these are important for the variants and changes
reshape, over a time, the form and meaning (Herskovits 1958:
116). The same view applies where the data consists of materials
resulting from acculturation or cultural borrowing as in the case of
the cultures in Nusantara. Clyde Kluckhohn, however, reminds us
that in spite of cultural changes brought about by contacts with
other cultures, the innovations are still based on the “pre-existing
cultural matrix”, but the new resultant forms are usually determ-
ined by factors external to the receiving culture (Kluckhohn 1962:
138). Kluckhohn recognises the fact that myths and rituals are “in-
tricately interrelated”, but he gives no primacy of one over the
other. Instead Kluckhohn is more inclined tQ see the relationship
between myth and ritual from the functional point of view; that is
both have connection with the social and psychological life or a
particular people. Both myth and ritual have common psychologi-
cal basis: ritual is “an obsessive and reflective activity” and often
a symbolic demonstration of the fundamental needs of the society—
economic, biological, social or sexual. And mythology is a ra-
tionalisation of the same needs, whether they are expressed in
overt ceremonial or not” (Kluckhohn 1952: 140). Whether we find
ritual as the origin of myth or the other way round, we cannot avoid
the fact that underlying both myth and ritual is the belief system of
the people, for without it both cannot have any symbolic value.
In turning our attention to the cultures in the Nusantara area,
there is a point which we have to consider before going into the
question of what form of relationship is to be found between myth,
ritual and drama. It is a fact that although the Indonesian Archipe-
lago can be said to possess basically a cultural unity, because of

180
historical factors, variations ~thin that so-called unity can easily
be seen. In very general terms, we can divide the Archipelago into
three cultural characteristics. The first one shows strong Hindu
influence which still prevails as in Jawa and Bali. The second
shows that the Islmic influences of Persia and Muslim India have
somewhat superseded the underlying Indonesian-Hindu culture as
in the case of the coastal regions of Nusantara. The third shows
that the indigenous Indonesian culture still holds sway as in the
cases of the Dayaks in Borneo and the Nias Islanders of Sumatra.
Reymond Kennedy has described the phenomenon in terms of
“cultural contours” (see Kennedy 1942: 11). For the purpose of
our discussion, we are going to focus our attention on the first two
cultural characteristics for the reason that they have a common
Indonesian-Hindu cultural basis which had prevailed since the
beginning of the Christian era, and the difference between the two
lies only in the degree of Islamisation that they have absorbed
through the years since Islam made its impact on the peoples of
Nusantara in the 14th and 15th centuries. However from the view-
points of this discussion, the distinction is significant, for where
Islamisation has seeped deep, the drama seems to have ceased
playing a role. Thus rig~itat the outset, we can make an observa-
tion: the myth-ritual-drama complex is to be seen playing a fuller
role in the area where the first cultural characteristic still prevails
in the life of the people, namely in Java.
The closeness of drama to myth and ritual in Javanese culture
has been the subject of discussion by various Dutch scholars, but
one whose theories we cannot ignore is W.H. Rassers. Although
the Leiden School has come under the criticism of modern anthro-
pologists, (H. Geertz 1965) the theories as expounded by this
School, especially as represented by Rassers are worth looking
into. Their theoretical bases or their conclusions may be challe-
ngeable, but thejr contributions cannot be overlooked. At least
they had laid the groundwork by providing the ethnographical data
and some pertinent observations. At the turn of this century,
G.A.J. Hazue wrote a number of articles on the Javanese theatre.
He not only distinguished between the different types of Javanese
theatre but had also convincingly demonstrated that the Javanese
theatre was not solely for entertainment for it had some religious
significance as well. This was especially true of the shadow-play or
the wayang as it is normally referred to. It is pertinent here to note
that thellakon or stories enacted in the theatre are mostly episodes
taken from the Indian epic Mahabhorata (C. Geertz 1960: 263).

181
Some of the Iakons,however, are an admixture of Hindu mytholo-
gies and the indigenous ones, especially the Panji cycle. Working
with this kind of material, Hazeu advanced the theory that in spite
of the Indian elements to be found in the Iakons, the wayang itself
antedates the Indian period in Java. He pointed out that the techni-
ques and the apparatus of the wayang did not bear Sanskrit
names. In distinguishing the different types of dramatic perfor-
mances, Hazeu showed their chronological developments. The
details of this need not detain us here, but suffice it to say that to
Hazeu the shadow-play seems to be the most ancient (see Rassers
1959: 98). This view is shared by other scholars for it is in the
shadow-play that the ritual significance of drama is to be seen
more than the others. Tyra Van Kleen observes in her book,
Wayang: Jauanese Theatre, that whereas in the Western tradition
the theatre has a naturalistic origin, that is starting from life it tries
to imitate, the.Javanese theatre begins from the opposite end, that
is it starts from the unreal shodow figures and develops through
human-like puppets and finally to living actors (Tyra Van Kleen
1947: 9—10). Van Kleen describes in her book how a dramatic play
having human actors was created by a Javanese prince for his
wedding celebrations as an example of the culminating point of
this dramatic development. This purely technical theatrical deve-
lopment may be interpreted in another way: the development of
dramatic performance originates from a purely ritually significant
performance to one for entertainment. The play created by the
prince was for entertaiment, although the plots were drawn from
the store-house of Hindu-Javanese myths which have supplied the
Iakons for the more ancient forms of dramatic plays. Clifford
Geertz who studied Javanese religion in more recent times has
more or less substantiated the fact that the shadow-play, although
having lost its full ritual significance as interpreted by Hazeu, Ras-
sers and the other Ducth scholars, still retains the vestiges of this
ancient significance (C. Geerts 1960: 269). The most significant
factor to be borne in mind in connection with this is the institution
of the dalang; at the lime when the shadow-play has become part
entertainment and part ritual, the dalang continues to have that
ntual aurn (C. Geertz 1960264). As Rassers puts it, “~ain and
again one recognises in him the officiating priest” (Rassers 1959:
116).
The ritual significance of dramatic performances seems to cent-
re more around the shadow-play than the other types of dramatic
performances. To Hazeu, the shadow-play has its origin in ances-

182
tor-worship for it fits into the ancient cult of the dead to be found
among the more primitive tribes in Nusantara. The spirits of the
ancestors are believed to be powerful and can render asistance to
the living. Images are made to induce them to descend. Eventually
these spirits become identified with the images, but they are not
thought of materialistically: rather they are thought of being more
like shadows. Hence the shadow-play was already existing in prin-
cipal. Hazeu’s theoty then is that the shadow-play originates from a
religious belief and is connected with a kind of ancestor-worship
ritual (Rassers 1959: 101-2). A typical myth of origin tells us, how-
ever, that once upon a time the gods came down to earth to give
the first wayang performance by projecting their own shadows on a
white screen. The art was then handed down to man (Tyra Van
Kleen 1947: 10). The myth tells us the origin of the wayang, but it
might just be merely an explanatory myth validating or explaining
the ritual value which is still attached to the performance of the
wayang.
We must bear in mind that the above theory as expounded by
Hazeu does not concern the lakon or the story-content of the
wayang, but rather the technique of the performance itself. The
mere performance, regardless of the story, is looked upon as
having ritual efficacy in itself. Clifford Geertz tells us that when
a wayang performance is given on an occasion, one might attend
the performance without giving much attention to the run of the
story for it is not the content of the storey but the efficacy of the per-
formance that is important on the occasion (C. Geertz 1960: 269). It
is not that the lakon has no significance, it has as we shall see
later, but just that the performance in itself is looked upon as
having ritual values.
Hazeu’s theory regarding the origin and meaning of the wayang
has been disputed by Rassers, but the view that the woyang is
more than just an entertainment is well accepted. Right at the
beginning of his paper on the origin of the Javanese theater, he
says,
From the moment this peculiar civilization first came within
the sphere of scholars’ interest it has been clear that the-
atre occupied a very special place in the life of the Javanese
(Rassers 1969: 95).
To Rassers, the origin of the wayang has to be looked into from
the point of what from of society the play is “genetically connected
(with) and the part it played in it. “It would take too much space to
recapitulate all the points raised by Rassers, so we would just

183
select those which are pertinent to our discussion here. Hazeu’s
thesis, as we have seen, is based on the view that the shadow-play
is in essence the projection of the flat puppets on the screen and
the audience sees the shadow performing on the other side of the
screen. Hence the meaning lies in the performance of the shadows
of the puppets. Rassers, on the contrary, is of the opinion that the
performance is meant to be seen from the puppet side of the
screen. To Rassers, the important point is not the shadow but the
screen itself and the fact that the puppets are placed on both sides
of the dalang against the screen, that is to say on the left and right
side. The screen is supposed to shut out those not belonging to the
purpose of the performance. The division of the puppets to the
right and left of the dalang is supposed to represent the two phrat-
ries of the ancient Indoriesian society with the screen representing
the tribe. Thus the form of society to which the shadow-play is con-
nected, according to Rassers, is “a society which has passed the
stage of real totemism, but whose peculiar institution can only be
understood from the point of view of totemism.” In such a society
we have the institution of “men’s house” where women are exclu-
ded as it is meant to be a meeting place of adult males and at times
for the holding of initiation rites for the would-be adults. The
wayang performance then has its origin in this form of society. The
screen thus acts as a wall of the men’s house keeping the women
out while the wayang performance with its division of left and right
puppets representing the dichotomy of the group in the men’s
house which in turn represents the structure of the society at the
time. The kinship system in such a society is that of double
unilateral. It is interesting to note that in reconstructing this
ancient Indonesian social structure, Rassers, for purpose of
comparison, draws extensively from the literature on Australian
aboriginal tribes. In constructing his theory he is very much in-
fluenced by th sociological school of Durkheim.
So far we have dealt with Rasser’s theory on the meaning and-
origin of the technique of the wayang. Rassers shows a unity of
interpretation when he deals with theIakon of the wayang. Unlike
Hazeu, Rassers does not reject Indian influence, but to him even if
the shadow-play was imported from India, it had been accepted
and assimilated into the Javanese culture because it fitted into the
general scheme of the society. Thus, it might be an importation,
but it is in the wayang that the “primeval and genuinely religious
feelings of the Javanese people are expressed completely adequa-
tely “ (Rassers 1959: 1%). Not only in the performance but in

184
the story-content or the lakon too that the wayang phenomenon
should be traced back to the ancient Indonesian society of the pre-
Hindu period, and both the performance and the lakon show unity
of origin and meaning. As he puts it, “whether, in studying the
shadow theatre, one starts from the text of the lakons or from the
technical directions for the performance, the results are the same”
(Rassers 1969: 161). The lakons or stories enacted in the wayang,
as said before, are stories mainly drawn from Hindu myths, the
Mahabharata especially. But Rassers makes the assumption that
in spite of this borrowing, the lakons are entirely Javanese. In fact,
Rassers goes even further: to him all the lakons can be reduced to
one single myth and a single theme (Rassers 1959: 6 and 112). And
this core theme is a “totemistic tribe myth, sort of cosmogony in
which the main incidents of the earthly existence of the two divine
ancestors of the phratries are related: how they are born and grow
up, have to endure the pain of initiation, and finally, after much
suffering and vicissitudes marry, and found the great community
which is the tribe” (Rassers 1959: 112). In essence, the wayang,
not only its technical aspects but its story-content as well, is ~n
embodiment of myth and ritual, for the tribal myth, according to
Rassers, is based on the initiation rite in which the plight of the
two original ancestors of the tribe is portrayed (Rassers 1959:
60—1). And moreover, the whole complex of drama-myth-ritual
has its root in the structure of the society that once existed.
We have to bear in mind that both Hazeu and Rassers discussed
the drama in the context of Javanese culture. Their approach to the
question is more inclined towards gethng at the origin and mea-
ning of the drama. Although their theoretical bases and conclu-
sions have been criticised by later scholars, they nevertheless have
shown one important fact, and that is the Javanese drama is more
than just mere entertainment. We have quoted Geerts above to
testify to the fact that even at present ritual efficacy of the shadow-
play is still to be observed. Now we can examine the form of rela-
tionship the drama has to myth and ritual in the Javanese society.
The first thing we observe is that the performance of the wayang is
given as something apart from the rituals held on the occasions
connected with the life of a person or calendrical communal festi-
vals. That is to say, besides any ritual that might take place in con-
nection with an occasion, the wayang is still performed. We have
noted that the lakons are actually mythical stones. J. Kats in deal-
ing with the Javanese theatre has shown that the subject of the
lakon chosen has some connection with the particular nature of the

185
ceremony (Rassers 1959: 7). This is an important observation:
Hazeu and the others have noticed the same. Thus according to
Geertz, when a weddinq ceremony which has its own ritual is held,
lakons pertaining to the marriage of the Mahabharata heroes
Angkawidjaja, Bima, or Ardjuna — are performed. And for the
birth, the lakon of the birth of Gatutkatja is performed (Geertz
1960: 268).
Let us consider the ritual of marriage and how the wayang is
related to it. Marriage being one of the critical points of life is often
attended by rituals to ensure its success. The Javanese are no
exception, in fact they have a very elaborate ceremony. On the
wedding-eve there is a ritual called “the-buying of kembang
mayang (blossoming flowers)”. The mother of the bride buys four
kembang mayang from the person who makes them. The ritual is
just a dramatisation of getting at any cost the kembang mayang
which is supposed to symbolise virginity. On the wedding day it-
self, the contract of marriage is observed both according to the
state law (signing the marriage register etc.) and to the Islamü
requirements. But there is more to this than just that; there are
certain rituals which have to be observed which have no connection
with the state or Islamic law governing marriage. We shall see that
these rituals are actually symbolic actions to ensure that the ideals
of marriage will be achieved. The whole ceremony is conducted
under the supeivision of a dukun manten or “ceremonial special-
ist” as Geertz calls him. And old sarong belonging to the girl is laid
out in front of the bride’s house where the ceremony is being held.
On the sarong a brass bowl containing flower water and a chicken
egg are placed while a yoke (for a pair of oxen) is placed under. At
the chosen moment the bride comes out of the house followed by
two virgin girls bearing the kembang mayang. The groom then
approaches from another direction attended by two virgin boys
bearing his kembang mayang symbol of his virginity. As the bride
and the groom approach one another, they throw at each other a
small package of betel-nut, the theory being that whoever hits the
other first will be the dominant partner in the wedlock. Needless to
say, the girl often misses her target. When they come face to face
on the sarong (symbolising the bride’s nakedness before the
groom), the girl usually performs the traditional gesture of obei-
sance, sembah, indicating her acceptance of her husband’s supe-
rior position in their household. Then the attendants exchange the
kembang mayang, signifying the relinquishing of virginity to each
other. The b~dethen breaks the egg on the groom’s foot and wash-

186
es it afteiwards with the flower water. The white of the egg
symbolises her purity whereas the yolk signifies the breaking of
the hymen. The washing of the groom’s foot signifies utter sub-
servience to the husband. Further symbolic acts continue with
both the groom and the bride standing on th~yoke. This is suppos-
ed to symbolise their inseparability. The bride’s mother then steps
forward and encircles the bride and groom with her scarf as if she
were craddling both of them. This symbolises that she has adopted
the groom as her own child. The last part of the ritual is for the
groom and the bride to sit together immobile while the dukun
manten chants a spell which invokes Allah and Prophet Muham-
mad and the two beautiful wives of Ardjuna (see C. Geertz 1960:
55—60).
The purpose of describing the marriage ritual here is to show the
significance of the acts in the rite and the fact that the marriage
contract is accompanied by its own ritual. We have seen that every
act in the ritual is supposed to symbolise something closely con-
nected with the success of the marriage. Thus underlying the
various acts, there are the ideas of virginity, harmony, man’s posi-
tion in the household, and the acceptance of the wife’s family.
Would such ritual be regarded as “ceremonial and symbolic”
only? We have seen that the motive is for the success of the
marriage, which is a local need. And the symbolic acts are a kind
of immitative magic. With the dukun manten officiating the ritual
with great care, and with a magical invocation or chant recited, the
ritual seems to take a form of magical rite. However, we can also
observe a close connection with myth. At some parts of the cere-
mony allusions are made to the gods in the myth. The groom and
the bride are dressed as prince and princess, and also by sitting
immobile, they are “as the ancient kings sat as rigid as a bronze
Buddha doing the,ir inauguration or whenever their country was in
serious danger, and as the great shadowj~layherores practised
long tapa (ascetism) feats before engaging in either love or war
the newly married couple display that trance-like immobility
that signifies spiritual power” (C. Geertz 1960: 59). Over the
ritual, we also have the performance of wayang with the lakon rela-
ting the story of the marriage of one of the mythic heroes of Maha-
bharata. It we look at one of these lakon as given by Geertz, “the
Marriage of Angkawidjaja”, we shall notice that the marriage of
Angkawidjaja, the son of Kreshn.a, is achieved when the forces of
the Kuravas have been overcome. The rituals and the lakon there-
fore suggest that there is an attempt to emulate the gods of the

187
myth. In this respect, the ritual is also “religious” in significance
at the same time. Hence, looking over the marriage ceremony, we
may observe the following forms of relationship between ritual,
myth, and drama: firstly, the wedding ritual consists of symbolic
actions, only some of which have allusions to the myth about the
marriage of mythic heroes; secondly, the drama, which is the
enactment of the story in the myth seems to stand apart from the
ritual. But the whole complex of myth-ritual-drama seems to have
a unity of purpose: to ensure the seccess of marriage.
We may also note that the ritual also reflects the social organisa-
tion of the practitioners, but not in Rasser’s sense, which is a his-
torical interpretation, that is going back to the structure of the
society which once existed. The act of symbolising utter submis-
sion of the new bride to her husband reflects the present situation.
Not only does it refer to the nuclear family structure of man being
the head of the family but also to the whole social structure of bila-
teral kinship with patriarchal emphasis. The act of the brides
mother in encircling the bride and the groom with her scarf seems
to reflect matrilocality in marriage. On the other hand we do not
notice anything that suggests the primacy of ritual over myth or
vice verse. But we do find that underlying both the acts of ritual
and the enactment of myth in the wayang is the belief that they will
magically ensure the success of marriage.
We may now turn to calendrical rites. The most important occa-
sion is obviously connected with rice cultivation, one of the basic
elements of Indonessian culture. The rituals connected with the
planting and harvesting of rice are varied according to the diffe-
rent regions of Nusantara, but the belief in rice-spirit is universal.
In an interesting article in Asian Folklore (Vol. XXIIINo 1) on tales
about the origin of grains in Japan, Ryuku, and the Indonesian
area, Toichi Mabuchi categorises these tales into three types. Type
I has tales relating the origin of rice as coming from heaven or from
lands abroad; Type II consists of tales about rice originating from
the underworld; and Type III comprises tales about the first rice
springing from a corpse. Mabuchi observes that Type III seems to
be predominant in Indonesia. In those areas where Hindu-Java
nese culture at one time held away. Type III seems to centre
around the myth of Dewi Seri, in which the Hindu gods also fea-
ture. “Where the Hindu-Javanese culture once flourished, leaving
various degrees of its influence the Hindu mythology might
have tended to fertilise the indigenous tales of Type III while trans-
forming them to a large extent” (Mabuchi 1964:86). Thus the Ja-

188
vanese myth of Dewi Sen has more Hindu elements than the
variants in other parts of Indonesia. The name Dewi Sen therefore
is known by other names such as Bok Seri, Dewi Pohachi, Tiana-
wati or its Muslim rendering of Ratna Dumilah (see Rassers 1959:
9—19), Van der Kroef 1954 (1), de Jong (1965). It is interesting to
note that in the Malay Peninsula where Islam is so deeply rooted,
the tale of Type III is somewhat different; here we get the introduc-
tion of Adam and Hawa (Eve) which is clearly a Muslim accretion.
Let us examine the two well-known variants of Dewi Seri myth.
The god Guru is offered an egg, out of which a girl emerges.
The girl is suckled and brought up by Guru’s consort. She
grows up to be a most beautiful woman and Guru desires her.
But Guru’s wife had suckled her, so Guru is her father socially
though not biologically. To avoid an incestuous union between
Guru and her, one of the other gods puts her to death. She is
buried, after a time rice comes forth from her eyes, coconut
from her head, and bamboo from her feet.
The other variant is somewhat similar:
Betara Guru is given a jewel called Ratna Dumilah. He breaks
it open and a girl Tisnawati is born. The girl dies in similar
circumstances as the first myth and is buried. After a time the
king of the country in which she is buried observes a wonder-
ful light shining forth from her grave. Coming closer he sees
that out of her head has grown coconut palm, and from her
body sugar palm and rice plant.
Obviously it is a myth of origin. Various lakons tell the story with
more complicated plots in which Dewi Sen undergoes various
transformations. Thus lakons like Sri Sedana or Mengkukuhan are
performed at rice cultivation ceremonies or ceremonies connected
with the village. Rassers has found that the lakons connected with
Dewi Sen show that the myth is rooted in the ancient social struc-
ture as in the case with the other myths and lakons (Rassers 1959:
9—29). According to Ressers just before the harvest rituals are
held with incantations (mentera) to make Bok Seri and Jaka Se-
dana (her brother/husband) descend from heaven. Shadow-play
performing the lakon of Sri Sedana may also be given for this occa-
sion (Rassers 1959: 10). When the harvest is over a similar cere-
mony is held, but this time for the purpose of cleansing the village
(Bersih Desa) of evil spirits and at the same time, according to
Geertz, “concerned with sanctifying relationships in space, with
defining and celebrating one of the basic territorial units of the

189
Javanese social structure — the village~’. (Geertz 1960:161). In
this ritual, as described by Geentz, the cultural hero who is the
founder of the village is commemorated. Josselin de Jong, in dis-
cussing the agricultural rites in Southeast Asia, believes that in
the rice-planting ceremony of the peninsular Malays, Ratna Dumi-
lah is invoked in the incantation accompanying the ritual. But
because of strong Islamic influence, he thinks that the myth of
Dewi Sen has long been forgotten, but traces of it are left in the
incantation (de Jong 1965). It is clear that there seems to be a con-
nection of some kind between the myths and the ritual here: but
the form of relitionship seems to be the ritual is derived from the
myth rather than the other way round. We have seen that the
rituals vary from place to place and the myth has many variants.
Only in one thing the ritual and the myth coincide, and that is the
reference to Dewi Sen from whose corpse the rice originated. Thus
it is more plausible that the ritual was drawn from the myth, as a
belief rather than as a narrative, that is the belief in Dewi Sen (or
in her other names) as the origin, spirit or goddess of rice. In this
connection, it is interesting to note what Toichi Mabuchi has quo-
ted from Ad. E. Jensen. According to Jensen, the origin of death
and that of food plants are inseparably connected with each other.
In this kind of world-view, by repeating ritually such a primor-
dial act, the fertility of both plant and human being is to be secured
(Mabuchi 1964). We may also note that the performance of wayang
seems to apply only to the Javanese situation. We find that the
significance is similar to that at the wedding ceremony. The
wayang, which performs the lakor~s connected with the agricul-
tural myth, is performed apart from the actual ritual. But the
motive of the ritual and the wayang performance is the same, and
that is to ensure the success of rice and the well-being of the
village.
The political myths connected with the coronation rituals of
kings in Indonesian culture offer some interesting points in the
interrelationship of myth, ritual, and drama. Following different
historical experiences which also coincide with our divison into
three characteristics of culture in Nusantara, the political system
in the area can be said to comprise the tribal or village-community
type which still prevail among the peoples of the interior, the state
(and even empire in the past) modelled on Hindu concepts, as in
the case of the states in Java and Bali formerly, and the state
ba5ed on the same concepts but superimposed with Muslim ele-
ments as in the case of the Malay Sultanates in the Malay Penin-

190
sula and Sumatra (see Kennedy 1942: 11). The first type of organi-
sation can be seen among groups which are almost independent of
one another and the political structure can be charactenised as
democratic. Ownership is often communal, there are no classes
based on wealth, kinship is slightly further than the extended
family and the tribal chief or leader is usually chosen by a council
of elders. In short the political structure has not come to the
sophisticated stage found in the second and third types. In the
complex political structure of these two types we get the institution
of kingship, the ruling and the ruled and an advanced economic
system. It is in the institution of kingship that we are going to dis-
cuss the question of the interrelationship of rnfyth, ritual and
drama.

The pretinent point is, as put by Heine-Geldem, “what religious

and philosophical conceptions underlay and shaped” these sta-
tes? (Heine-Geldern 1942). It seems that the primary notion goes
back to as early as 5th Century B.C. and by the 3rd century B.C. it
was already established in Babylonia. This notion entered South-
east Asia through India and China, although in the case of Nusan-
tara it was probably more from India than China. It was from the
religions of India — Hinduism and Budhism — that this notion
came to be the basis of the institution of kings in Indonesia. This is
the notion of the state being an image of the universe or cosmos
and the king as god’s image on earth. In the political structure of
an Indonesian state, this notion becomes religious as well as politi-
cal, religious in the sense that it sanctifies that divine position of
the king and political in that it seives as a kind of social control. This
notion centres around Mount Meru, the abode of gods, which is the
centre of the cosmos. Cities and palaces are constructed according
to the model of the cosmos with Mount Meru in the centre as to be
seen in the famous architecture of Borobudur (Eliade 1959: 15). It
is not surprising that local mountains and hills are said to be
Mount Menu in various myths in Indonesia. For ritual purposes, a
hillock, a palace, or a manufactured structure resembling a moun-
tain symbolise Mount Menu (Winstedt 1947). The person of. the
king is supposed to be a god incarnate or as a later development as
descendants of gods. Thus the title of the Javanese kings, “Paku
Buwono” or “Nail of the World”, reveals the underlying concept
of kings being at the axis of the universe (Heine-Geldern 1942). As
for the Malayan and Sumatran rulers, although they bear the Per-
sian Muslim title of Shah, they have not in theory lost their chanis-

191
matic power inherited from the pre-Muslim past.
Based on this fundamental notion, the various ruling houses in
Nusantara had woven for themselves myths sanctifying their posi-
tion as rulers of their people. The Javanese court histories like
Nagarakartagama, Pararaton, and even Babad Tanah Jawi, are not
only genealogies of the ruling kings but include accounts traced
back to the heavenly ancestors of the kings. Some of them are sup-
posed to be the incarnation of gods. Thus King Erlangga (11th
century A.D.) is said to be the incarnation of Vishnu; Kartadjaja of
Kedini (13th century AD) has on one occasion, it is said, appeared
as Siva; and King Anggrok as an incarnation of Vishnu, son of Siva.
(Heine-Gelder~1942). Hence it is not unusual for usurpers to
claim divinity by creating for themselves genealogies and myths
which validate their claim to the throne of the state, (see Johns
1964). The Malay Sultanates of the Peninsula as well as Sumatra
also have the same type of myths although some Islamic elements
have been added. The Mount Menu of the Malay myths is Mount
Siguntang in Palembang, Sumatra, where the first ancestor of the
Malay rulers first appeared. But this ancestor with a Hindu name,
whose appearance on “Bukit Siguntang Mahameru” had caused
the rice plants to turn into gold and silver, had descended not only
from a mythical Indian king but also from Iskandar Zulkarnain (the
Muslim name of Alexander the Great) and Nushinwan the Just of
Persia (see Winstedt 1947). The Malay sultanates had women
genealogies tracing their origin to this myth to sanctify their
kingship. In doing this they had grafted Islam elements to the
myth.
in the Javanese context, the lakons of the wayang, as we have
mentioned before, are stories of gods taken mostly from Mahabha-
rato. But we must bear in mind that in them the gods act like mor-
tals: they fall in love, they battle, and they may be divided into
good and evil forces. In fact, life on earth is reflected on a higher
plane, It is because of this that Geertz, in discussing the interpre-
tation of wayang among the present-day Javanese aristocratic dass
(prijtii) sees the wayang portraying the psychological rather than
the socio-political patterns of man and his life (see Geertz 1960: Chap-
ter 18). Interesting though this point is. it should not detain us
here. The lakons and the political myths have many things in
common: they deal with characters who are gods and mortals at
the same time, so to speak, for they tell stories of battles, emotio-
nal conflicts, marriages and other things men do. It is not surpni-

192
sing that the performance of the wayang among the Javanese court
circle is looked upon as the pnotrayal of themselves and their
ancestors on another plane, while to their subjects it helps to rein-
force their belief in the divinity and charismatic power of the
rulers. It is in this sense that leads Geertz to say, “the Javanese
aristocracy had, until the Dutch come, but t’.vo ways to hold the
peasants in order to exact from them rice and manpower they need-
ed to support their own specialisation: simple military ten-or and
religious enthusiasm. They used both”.
The same holds true for the rituals connected with the corona-
tion of new kings. The new ruler is not only to be shown a secular
leader of his people but also as god incarnate; he is not only taking
charge of the state but also the universe in miniature. The ritual
acts and objects used in the ceremony are supposed to be the rep-
lica of those in heaven as described in the myth. Thus the corona-
tion of the Malay rulers has a nine or seven tiered dais for lustra-
tion rituals. While the ruler and this consort sit on the topmost
tier, the palace officials conduct the ritual by circummbulating it.
This is supposed to imitate the cosmic order. The regalia used in
the ceremony — the sword, the seal, the amulets, and the neck-
lace — are objects claimed to have been derived from the first
•ancestor who descended on Bukit Siguntang Mahamenu. The
ruler, after his coronation ceremony is oven, also circumambulates
his palace on even a hillock in the palace grounds. Incantations are
read at the ceremony. Besides the Islamic ones, a chin which is
supposed to be in Sansknit and which is a fonmulaic incantation
extolling the greatness of the king is chanted by the “state sha-
man” (see Winstedt 1947 and Sheehan 1936). It is clear that the
coronation rituals consist of symbolic actions and symbolic objects
which are connected with the notion of divine kingship, and the
same notion underlies the political myths, and also the pertinent
lakons in the context of Javanese culture. What Heine-Geldenn
says as the “religious and philosophical conceptions” of the state
is the source from which the political myths and the coronation
ritual have drawn their symbolic elements. The question of which
gives rise to what seems so insignificant here when we realise
that the complex of myth-ritual-drama is not only a manifestion of
a religious belief, but at the sarrce time also fulfils the political and
social needs of the society.
In dealing with the Indonesian material, we have taken examples
from a rite-of-passage, a calendiical, and a coronation rite which
we may call a rite of intensification. In all instances, we have

193
observed that the rites are in one way or another related to the
myths and drama. In so far as the relationship to drama is concer-
ned, we have noted right at the begining that it is present where
the Hindu-Javanese culture is not much affected by the advent of
Islam. The myths which we have shown to be related to rituals or
drama contain to a high degree elements of Hindu mythology, but
as they appear in the Indonesian context, they must have under-
gone some process of acculturation. Rassers, we have seen, has
not denied the fact that the myths are of foreign derivation, but he
is inclined to regard them as having been fully adapted to the pre-
existing patterns of Indonesian culture: hence his thesis that the
myths, in spite of their foreign trappings, ritual, and drama can be
traced to their origin in the totemistic social structure that once
existed. To him myths, rituals and drama do not only reflect the
said social structure, but are supposed to be descriptive of the ini-
tiation rites involving the primeval ancestors of the tribe. Rasser’s
thinking has been influenced by Emille Durkheim, but he in turn
has influenced a whole generation of Dutch scholars (H. Geertz
1965). From the view-point of this School, underlying every cultu-
ral aspect in Indonesia is a concept of antithesis: the upper-world
against the underworld, black against white, sky against earth and
so on. (see Van der Kroef 1954 (2)). In Rasser’s argument about the
origin and meaning of the Javanese theatre (which also touches on myth
and ritual), the idea of the dichotomy of cultural aspects leads to the
proposition that the primeval society was a tribe divided into two
phrathes or moeties which in turn are divided into dans with double
unilateral kinship system. To review this point of view will be out of the
scope of this paper, but in so far as his theory regarding the myth, ritual
and drama is concerned, it should not go without comment
Rassers in going back to the primeval Indonesian society has
used comparative data from Australian totemistic tribes; his
arguments would have been better substantiated if he had used
more of the data from those areas in Indonesia which have not
been exposed to Hindu cultural influence. It is true that later
Dutch scholars have demonstrated the existence of the basic con-
cept of antithesis in the Indonesian culture, but in most cases they
are the result of preconceived theories for later anthropologists
have failed to notice the same phenomenon (H. Geerlz 1965). Thus
Rasser’s theory does not seem to be quite as tenable now.
Neither have we noticed any evidence of myth describing ritual
or myth arising fromdrama. In fact we find that the interrelation-

194
ship of myth, ritual, and drama seems to be one of prallel relation-
ship, each being a system of symbols which are drawn from the
same source and are comlementary to each other in trying to
achieve the same motive. And that same source seems to be the
religion described as Hindu-Javanese for lack of a better word;
and much of the religious belief is embodied in the sacred litera-
ture modelled on the Hindu mythological works, the most impor-
tant of which is Mahabharata. If Rassers has given the role of Hin-
du derivations as being adapted to the pre-existing conditions in
Javanese society, he cannot be far wrong, for as Kluckhohn has
stated, any changes would be based on the “pre-existing cultural
matrix (Kluckhohn 1962: 138). At the same time the role of Hindu
importations in defining subsequent cultural changes cannot be
ignored. The organisation of the state is a very clear example of
this: the notion of divine kingship has been used to meet political
and social needs most effectively. In fact, the rise of dynastic
myths as we have shown is a product of this phenomenon. I~ihis
study of two much myths, the Pararaton and Babad Tanah Jawa,
A.H.Johns has showns that these two myths indicate “something
of the nature and change within the Javanese society, and illus-
trate the eclectic genius of the Javanese” (Johns 1964). Hence it
should be reiterated that the kind of interrelationship of myth,
ritual, and drama in the Indonesian culture is a relationship stem-
ming from a religious belief in which the Hindu elements have
helped to shape.

BIBLIOGRAPHY
Bascom, William 1957: The Myth Ritual Theon,i’. Journal of American Folklore
Vol 70.
Eliade, Mircea 1960: Cosmos and History The Myths of Eternal Return.
Harper, N.Y.
Gaster, Theodor H. 1960: Thespis: Ritual, Myth and Drama in the Ancient
Near East, N.Y.
Geertz, Clifford 1960. The Religion of Java, Glencoe. Ill.
Geertz. Hilda 1965. “Comment” (on Joselin de Jong’s article in the same volume)
Journal of Asian Studies, Vol. 24 No. 2.
Herskovits, Melville and Frances Herskovits 1958. Dahomean Narratives, North-
western Univ. Press.
Heine-Geldern. Robert 1942. “Conceptions of State and Kingship in Southeast
Asia”, Far Eastern Quarterly, Vol. 2 no. 1.
Hyman, Stanley Edgar 1857-1958. “Reply to Bascom”, Journal of American Folk.
lore. Vol. 70.

195
“The Ritual Viewof Myth and the Mythic” in Myth: A Symposium. Thomas A. Sebeok (ed).
Bloomington.
l)e doug. P.E. [)eJoselim 1965. “An Interpretation ofAgricultural Rites in Southeast Asia”
Journal of Asian Studies. Vol. 24 no. 2.
Kennedy. Raymond 1942, “Countours of Culture in Indonesia”. Far Eastern Quarterly.
Vol. 2 no. 1.
Kluckhohn, Clyde 1962. “Myth and Ritual” in Reader in Comparative Religion. WA. Lessa
and E.Z. Vogt (ed). New York.
Drekmeier, Charles 1962. Kingship and Community in Early India, Stanford. Calif.
do Bary. \k/ni. l’hendore ed.) 1960. “Structural Orgenisation and Myth in Javanese
Historiography” Journal of Asian Studies, Vol. 24 No. 1.
Mahuchi. Totehi 1964. “Tales Concerning the Origin of Grains”. Journal of Asian
Folklore, Vol. 23 no. 1
Tyra Van Kleen 1947. Wayang: The Javanese Theatre, Stockholm. (2nd edt.).
Vander Kroef, Justus M. 1954 (1). “Rice Legends of Indonesia” Journal of American
Folklore, Vol. 67.
1954 (2) “l)ualism and Symbolic Antithesis in Indonesian Society”. American
Anthropologist. No. 56.
Rassers, W.H. 1959. Panji, The Culture Hero: A Structural Study of Religion
in Java, The Hague.
Winstedt, Sir Richard 0, 1947. “Kingship and Enthronement in Malaya”. Journal
of the Malayan Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society. Vol. 20.
Koentjaraningrat 1958. Methode Anthropologi. Djakarta.
Sheehan, J.J. 1936. “Installation of the Ruler of Negeri Sembilan”, Journal of the
Malayan Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, Vol. 14.
Raglan, Lord 1956. The Hero. Vintage Book.

196
13
SOME OBSERVATIONS
ON THE SOCIOCULTURAL CONTEXT OF
TRADITIONAL MALAY MUSIC

Music as a cultural expression has often been neglected by the

student of culture. Partly this is due to the fact that notation of
music needs special knowledge and skill, more so than that requi-
•red to note the peculiarities of languages. But the understanding
of a culture is incomplete without considering the musical expres-
sion of that culture, for, as Melville Jacobs puts it, music is “as
universal a form of expression as humour and language itself,
and resembles them in its elaborateness of structuring and
variety of ideas and feelings which were symbolized in the special
kinds of units used”.’ The study of non-Western music, whether it
is the musk of non-literate societies or that of the folk segment of
civilised non-Western societies, has seen many collections and
notations describing the various instruments used, style of
espression, scale and melody, tonal organization and rhythms.
These musical characteristics are then related to their uses, either
to accompany dances or theatrical play. The collection and notation
are an important first step in any serious study of the musical
repertoire of a society or a sub-culture. However, an equally
important approach is to set the music against its socio-cultural
environment. Basically such an approach tries to answer the ques-
tion, “What does music mean to the life of the people under
study?” In other words, we set out to find the place of music in the
culture of a people. Studies in ethnomusicology among the non-

197
literate peoples and those of folk songs and folk music of the civili-
sed nations have shown that as a cultutal expression, music has
many roles and meanings in the life of the people. Music is a uni-
versal phenomenon; it exists in all cultures, literate and non-lite-
rate. It is not merely an artistic creation, nOr for leisure and enter-
tainment only. Music is, in fact, enmeshed into other aspects of
society and culture, in the belief system, in the social structure and
even in economic activities. Like language, music is a means of
social communication and it plays an important role in the social
interaction between individuals in a society. And similar to other
cultural expressions like literature, sculpture and graphic art,
music is a rich source from which a student of culture can draw a
wealth of information on social values, aspirations and orientations
in a particular culture.
This paper makes no claim to any expertise on traditional Malay
music from its technical point of view. What it sets out to do is to
discuss The roles and meanings of the different types of traditional
Malay music in their socio-cultural context. Sources on Malay
music are scarce, and no serious study has been made so far on the
subject. As a cultural phenomenon. the development of Malay
music coincides more or less with that of Malay society as a whole.
Continuity and change in the culture as a whole is also reflected in the
music. Modern.Malay music usually heard over the radio or television is
not only Western influenced, such as the currently popular pop music,
but is also rich in its variety, drawing it inspiration from Latin Amencan,
Hawaiian, Middle-Eastern and Hindustani tunes. It is necessaly for the
purpose of discussion in this paperto identify whatis traditional and what
is modern. No hard and fast line of demarcation is possible, but we can
use certain criteria in distinguishing the two. Tradisional Malay music
predates direct cultural contact with Western culture which was
brought about by British dominance over the Malay States begin-
ning from the second half of the last century. The traditional
musical ensemble does not include any of the Western instruments
like the violin, guitar, trumpet etc. The instruments are either
those that are commonly found in Southeast Asian cultures such as
the gamelan type instruments, various types of gongs, drums and
flutes, or those that have affinities with the instruments found in
the Islamic cultures such as the rebab, the mandolin, the rebana and the
nafin. The traditional orchestration may consist of just one
type of instrument, usually the drums or rebana, or a number ot
instruments in which the drums, the percussion or the stringed
instruments usually predominate. Traditional Malay music is sel-

198
dom cultivated in the sense that modern Western music is; it is
usually transmitted from the teacher to the student in an informal
manner. From what I have gathered so far, no elaborate form of
notation is known. Although tunes and songs are known by name,
they are actually memorised rather than committed to writing. A
pupil learns to play an instrument by ear. Younger members of an
orchestra listen and practise with the older members, and except for
intricate and complex instruments which require some dexterity and
skill, no apprenticeship is necessary. Traditional Malay music properly
belongs to the oral rather than the written tradition of the culture.
The traditional Malay society as it was constituted before the
advent of British administration was feudalistic in character. The
social structure could easily be divided into two broad strata, the
ruling class consisting of the nobility and the common people or
the rakyat who were the ruled. As commonly found in other tradi-
tional societies in Southeast Asia in the past, the social differentia-
tion was maintained physically by power held by the ruling class
and ideology by mythic beliefs which held the nobility as having
semi-divine rights and powers. Such beliefs were reflected in the
literature of the period, whether in the written traditions of the
royal courts or in the oral traditions of the folk. The charisma of the
ruling house was shrouded in the mythologies projecting the semi-
divine character of kings and princes. Music played an important
part in upholding the social structure of the time. The royal music
of the Malay Sultanates known as nobat will be dealt with later,
but now let us discuss how, in the world-view of the traditional
society, music and political ideology coincided. Musical instru-
ments formed part of the royal regalia, the ownership of which
sanctioned the position of the possessor as the ruler of the land.
The Malay Sultanates of today still retain such regalia which are
put on display and carried in procession during state ceremonies.
Like the other objects of the regalia, the musical instruments are
believed to have supernatural powers. ~Anaura of sacredness sur-
rounds these musical instruments. The royal regalia of the state of
Selangor, for example, comprises among others one big drum, two
small drums (gendang), two kettle-drums (len~kara),a long trum-
pet (nafiri) and a flute (serur&ai). Walter William Skeat who served
in the State at the turn of this century tells of many interesting
incidents which are supposed to vouch for the sacred qualities of
these instruments. An interesting belief recorded by Skeat clainis
that an omen in the form of drops of perspiration would be seen on
the trumpet when a senior member of the Royal House was

199
 2 As a Westerner, Skeat did not make light of such beliefs.
dying.
He might. have been a romantic, but it should be noted that even
today such beliefs are as credulously held as during the time of
Skeat about seventy years ago. Each Malay Sultanate has its own
types of instruments for the regalia, but the basic instruments
seem to be the drum (gendang). the trumpets (nafiri) and the
gong.
The belief that inanimate objects are actually animate or at least
possessed of guardian spirit is world-wide. Among the Malays, it
is believed that the musical instruments in the royal regalia have
their gaurdian spirits. For the more important ones, it is popularly
held that they are inhabited by the guardian spirit of the state (Jin
Kerajaan). Ceremonies propitiating the guardian spirit are usually
held if the welfare the State is to be maintained. We note here that
the notation of musical instruments having supernatural powers
falls neatly into a scheme in which the traditional social order,
defining the relative positions of the ruler and the ruled, was main-
tained. But even today, the belief still lives on. No performance of
Wayang kulit or the shadow-play or any other type of traditional
theatre is embarked upon before the instruments and the theatri-
cal props are ritually fumigated in the smoke of burning incense.
Such rites may have changed in their details, but the premise of
belief underlying the act has not. Skeat has provided us with some
eye-witness accounts of such ceremonies which took place at the
end of the last century, and these offer us an opportunity to com-
pare them with the ceremonies conducted today in villages where
the traditional theatre is still performed.
The nobat is a form of traditional Malay music which gives an
example of the relationship between music and social structure.
The nobat is in essence the sacred music of the royalty. No royal
occasion is complete without the nobat. It was during the heyday of
the Malacca Sultanate in the fifteenth century that the nobat was
probably first institutionalised. According to Sejarah Melayu,
which is the chronicle of the fifteenth century Sultanate, it was the
first Muslim Malay Sultan of Malacca, Muhammad Shah, who
instituted the court ceremonies which have continued ever since
by the Malay Sultanates in the region. Although the playing of the
gendang, serunoi and nafiri is often mentioned in the description
of the various court ceremonies, the reference to the nobat is not
very clear. The rules governing the playing of the nobat in the old
Sultanate of Johor-Rhio-Lingga, which ruled the southern part of
the Malay Peninsula (including Singapore and the Rhio Archipe-

200
lago until it disintergrated during the last century with the onset of
British and Ducth hegemony in the area) are given by Syed AIwi
Al-Hady in his book, Malay Customs and Traditions:’ The des-
cription is important because it is one of those rare accounts of
traditional Malay music in its original setting. The value is heigh-
tened if we bear in mind that the Sultanate of Johor-Rhio-Lingga
was the direct inheritor of the old Malacca royal traditions. The
respect due to the sound of the nol,at was equal to that due to the
Sultan himself. Thus there is the injuction that one must stop
everything one is doing upon hearing the music of the nobat as if
one was in the presence of the monarch himself. The nobat was
played for only four persons, the reigning sultan, his heir, the Ben-
dahara and the Temenggong, the last two being the highest offi-
cials of the state. Even then there was a hierarchical order in the
tunes and the number of bars to be played for each of the four. The
nobat forms part of the royal regalia, and it is one of those insignia
signifying the right to be a ruler. In the olden days, the nobat was
struck at regular times of the day, and on state occassions, but
today, it is only performed at ceremonies involving royal persona-
ges. For those who are interested in the technical aspect of the
nobat orchestration. I reproduce below the description by Syed
AKvi:
When the Nobat is due to start playing, the Penghulu Gen-
dang (chief gendang-beater), called Leila Sengguna, sum-
mons the band. He sounds a token beating on the gendang
and then stops a while. When it is time to start, all the players
come forward and line up, standing in their proper places.
The chief of the Nobat, called Leila Perkasa, whose duty is to
blow the highly honourd nafin, stands in the front by himself.
Immediately behind him in line stand the two nengkara (royal
kettle-drum) players. In the Third line, behind the nengkara,
stand the beaters of one big gendang (dig drum) and two
gendang-gendang peningkah (smaller common drums) with
Leila Sengguna as their leader. In the fourth line stand the
two blowers of the two types of pipes, called respectively
seri.jnai and bangsi. In the fifth and last line stand the rest of
the band, that isO, the beaters of the kopak (a sort of tambou-
rine) and cherachap (a percussion instrument comprising two
pieces of bamboo). When members of the Nobat have taken
their positions and are ready, the Leila Perkasa (leader of the
Nobat) then blows the nafiri three times. This is immediately
followed by the drumming of the nengkara, also three times.

201
 Then comes the beating of all the gendang, and following this
the nengkara makes the second drumming sound (guruh). On-
ly then does the Nobat commence to play the required tune.
The maximum period the Nobat may play is the time it takes
the nafiri to complete its thirty-two blasts. Then the perfor-
mance is terminated by sounding the war beats on the
gendang.4
There are many tunes, known by their specific names, played by
the nobat orchestra but to an untrained ear, the tunes would
appear to be all the same. The special place occupied by the nobat
in the context of Malay traditional culture is further highlighted by
the beliefs held about it. In the past, not everyone could touch, let
alone play, the nobat, as it was believed that the instruments had
magical powers or were inhabited by guardian spirits. In most
Malay Sultanates, the nobat players were specially picked for the
task with the offices often hereditary. In Perak, the people who
played the royal nobat were known as “Orang Kalau” and a
special tax was levied to support them.
The nobat is a heritage from the times when the social structure
of the Malay society was rigidly feudal. In the past it formed part
of the cultural paraphernalia which helped to maintain the social
order of the day. In spite of the changes that have overtaken the
Malays today, the nobat remains a heritage which features promi-
nently in the court ceremonies of the Malay Sultans. In keeping
with the general characteristies of the transformation of the Malay
States into a modern nation of Malaysia, many age-old traditions
of the Malay courts have been retained in the present court of the
Yang Di-Pertuan Agong and this includes the nobat. But the nobat
is not the only example to the continuation of traditional music in
the life of the present-day Malays. In those areas of Malay life
where modern innovation have not~left a deep imprint, some forms
of the traditional music still perform the functions which have peri-
shed through the ages. One such example belongs to the realm of
traditional Malay medicine. It is difficult to say to what extent
modern medicine is accepted by the Malay folk; it can safely be
said that it is not totally rejected. The traditional medicine as pres-
cribed by the village specialists, known variously as pawang,
bomoh or dukun, is still the mainstay of medical treatment in the
Malay villages. Even among the urban dwellers, the pawang or
bomoh is still consulted whenever modern medicine does not seem
to be immediately effective. This is especially true of cases of men-
tal illnesses.

202
 However, it is interesting to note that the place of music in tradi-
tional Malay medicine is mainly to be seen in the curing of sick-
ness through shamanic practices. It is this aspect of Malay medi-
cine which has its origins in the remote history of the Malay peop-
les.5 Central to the shamanic practices of the Malay pawang or
bomoh is the holding of a seance, during which the shaman invo-
kes the help of the spirits to cure the sick person. Both William
Skeat and Sir Frank Swettenham have left us vivid accounts of the
seances held some decades ago. Skeat tells us of the invocation of
the ‘tiger spirit in which the pawang’s wife acted as the musi-
cian. To her own accompaniment (with a tambourine), she chanted
the lagu pemanggil (summoning song — invocation) the text of
which is given in full by Skeat. Skeat also quotes in full the ac-
count of a similar ritual recorded by Sir Frank Swettenham in his
Malay Sketches.7 What is significant in the account given by Swet-
tenham is thefact that the seance was not an ordinary one: it was
for a sick monarch and the spirits to be invoked were guardians of
the ruler and of the state. As Swettenham puts it:
Only the Sultan of the State is entitled to traffic with these dis-
tinguished spirits; when summoned they decline to move
unless appealed to with their own peculiar music, sung by at
least four singers, and led by a Beduan (singer) of the royal
family. The Jin ka-raja-an (Gurdian Spirit of the state—author)
is entitled to have the royal drums by the state drummers if
his presence is required, but the other three spirits have to be
satisfied with the instruments I have described.8
The hierarchal notion of the society is therefore extended to the
spirit world, and the higher the status of the spirit, the bigger and the
more elaborate is the orchestration needed to invoke it. The sean-
ces which I have witnessed and thosed recorded by my students
show that the possession of the pawang or bomoh is still induced
by the rhythmic thud of the drum which accompanies the chanting
of the invocation. Although the role of music can hardly be said to
be elaborate, it can nevertheless be said the music still remains an
important aspect of the age-old shamanic practices of the Malay
village specialists.
A type of traditional Malay music which is widespread is what is
variously called the hadrah, marhaban or dzikir. Although known
by different names, it is basically the song of praise for the Holy
Prophet. It usually consists of verses sung in Arabic but stylized
according to the type of music accompanying it. The stlye also dif-
fers from one locality to another, and this also explains why

203
different names are used for this type of music. The basic
instrument used for this type of music is the rebana or drum, but
again each style of playing has its own type of rebana. Hadrah,
marhaban or dzikir may appear to be for entertainment, but reflec-
ted by the occasions during which the dzikir is performed and the
attitude held towards it. In the southern states of Malaysia and in
Singapore, the word kompang is used to refer to the accompaniment
of the singing of the verses which often has a leader called the
-

khalifah. The kompang is rather lively for two reasons; compared

to the others a kompang group usually consists of a greater num-
ber of pla~,iersand the rebana used is of the small type which has
brass discs on the side like those found in the tambourine. The
hadrah is the name usually used in the northern states of Malay-
sia, and it is almost as lively as the kompang, but accompanied by
acting or dancing by actors dressed as women. The marhaban is
usually sung unaccompanied, but its use is often more limited than
i~the case of the hadrah or kompang. In some localities, the term
dzikir is used, as in the case of Dzikir Pahang which I happened to
record recently in a kampung (village) near Pekan, Pahang. Accor-
ding to my informants, Dzikir Pahang was very popular at one time
among the villagers along Pahang River. Now it is almost a dying
art and is performed mostly by elderly people, the young ones
being no longer interested in it. The peculiarity of Dzikir Pahang
compared to hadrah or kompang is that it is not lively but rather
dragging in style. The players are seated around on the verandah
of the house and the verses are sung with each player taking turns
to chant parts of the verses. The special performance I recorded
took about only four hours but the actual perfor~nancewould begin
at about 9.00 p.m. at night and end at dawn. The rebana used for
Dziklr Pahang is a bigger version of kompang, but without brass
discs on the side.
Hadrah, marhaban or dzikir are performed on certain occasions
which give it a religions connotation. The verses praising the Holy
Prophet are most aptly sung at Maulud-an-Nabi, the birthday of
Prophet Mohammad (Peace be Unto Him). However, in Malay
culture, this type of music is not only performed on religious
occassions like the Id festivals (I-fart Raya Puasa and Han Raya
Haji) but also on occasions which are more social in character. Thus
hadrah, kompang or dzikir, feature prominently at weddings
and at “rites of passage” like the circumcision. At a Malay wedd-
ing, modern and traditional music are performed side by side. To
entertain the guests, especially the young ones, a modern Malay

204
orchestra playing the latest hit tunes is often hired. But at certain
stages of the wedding celebration modern music has to give way to
the more traditional one. The bridegroom, for example, is taken in
procession to the bride’s house accompanied by the hadrah or
kompang. At least until the bride and groom are safely seated “in
state” on the bridal dais, the sound of hadrah or the kompang
rules supreme. Similarly, when the elders congregate on the veran-
dah to chant the marhaban, which is usually unaccompanied by
any musical instrument, the modern orchestra is silent. Thus the
dichotomy between modern and traditional music at the Malay
wedding coincides in the people’s concept and attitude with the
division between what is strictly social and what has religious con-
notations. Aithought modern music is usually associated with the
younger generation while the traditional one is with the older
generations,it is heartening to find young people making up the
hadrah or kompang groups in the Malay villages. At least for the
forseeable future, this type of traditional Malay music will con-
tinue to find a place in the life of the Malays.
In the field of entertainment, traditional music continues to live
side by side with modern music. But even then, traditional music
has taken on some modern influences. The violin, for example, has
been adopted for the ronggeng, joget or dondang sayang, taking
its place together with the traditional instruments like the gong and
drums. Although traditional music is given expression through
the radio or the television, it is clear that in Malay culture
today modern music is enjoying greater attention from the
Malay public. Traditional music can only survive if there is a pat-
ron for it or, as in the case of the ghazal in Johor, there is enough
interest in the society to sustain it. In the past, music thrived
because it was either patronised by the royal courts or it was a
spontaneous affair among the people. Music was closely connected
with festivals, which in turn followed the agricultural rhythm in the
countryside. But even today, traditional music vies with modern
tunes ‘at main-pantoi, an after harvest celebration held annually on
the east-coast of the Peninsula.
This paper has attempted to outline the place of certain types of
traditional Malay music in Malay culture. The account is far from
exhaustive; in fact it just manages to scratch the surface. There is
in Malaysia a rich variety of forms of traditional indigenous music.
The materials are there, but few scholars of music have ventured
to exploit them. It is better that the effort should begin now while

205
the traditional music is still vigorous, for it is difficult to say that it
would remain the same in a decade or two with the continuing
onslaught of modern music in Malay culture.

Notes
1. Patterns of Cultural Anthropology (Homewood, Illinois: The Doresy Press, 1964),
1964), p. 317.
2. Malay Magic (New York: Dover Publications, 1967), P. 41.
3. Syed Alwi Al-Hady, Malay Customs and Traditions Singapore: Eastern
Universities Press, 1962).
4. Ibid. pp. 82—83.
5. See R.O Winstedt, The Malays: A Cultural History (London: Routledge and
Kegan Paul, 1958), pp. 23—25.
6. Malay Magic, pp. 439, 643.
7. Swettenharn, Frank. Malay Sketches (London: John Lane, 1943).
8. Quoted by Skeat in his Malay Magic, pp. 446—447.

206
14
TRADITIONAL MUSIC IN MALAYSIA:
TRADITIONAL EXPRESSION IN
CONTEMPORARY SOCIETY

1. Introduction
The Malays of Malaysia have experienced a variety of cultural
influences in their long history. This fact can be demonstrated in
any aspect of their culture includAng music. This paper will attempt
to show the different traditions in Malay music, paying particular
attention to the relationship between music and its cultural con-
text. The music dealt with here is the traditional music which is to
be distinguished from what is referred to as modern music. There
is no clear-cut boundary that separates traditional music from its
modern counterpart, because each seems to flow into one another.
Yet the two can easily be identified. The use of musical instru-
ments, for instance, clearly illustrates this fact: what is usually
referred to as traditional music like Dondang Sayang or the joget
would include imported instruments like the violin or the accor-
dion., but the tempo and the melody are strikingly Malay. On the
other hand, the so-called modern music would also have some tra-
ditional elements in it. However, for the purpose of this paper, the
focus is on traditional music because it is in this type of music that
the cultural traditions stand out clearly. This does not mean to say
that modern Malay music has no cultural tradition whatsoever; it
has, but it is not so deeply rooted on account of its short history. It
is part of the urbanisation phenomenon which began in Peninsular

207
Malaysia in the late nineteenth century and it changes fast be-
cause it appeals most to the youth sub-culture.
Traditional music has deep roots in the culture of the Malays. As
an expression of culture, music does not only reflect culture but
stimulates it as well. Music like other creative products of culture
expresses the genius of the people, but at the same time it is inhe-
rently related to the culture itself. The main thrust of this paper is
to demonstrate this relationship, especially the functional relation-
ship because music is part of the everyday life of a people. Today,
while modern music takes the front seat position and provides
most of the popular entertainment, traditional music provides the
cultural anchor. Pop music thrives because the young subscribe to
it, but youth is hardly the time to reflect on cultural values and cul-
tural moorings. In a situation where modern pop music only
emphasises the impermanence of things in life, the urge to go back
to tradition which provides a sense of stability or even security is
not only felt by the older generation but also by those thinking
young people who realize that life is not all entertainment, for it
needs strong cultural foundation in order for it to be stable and
meaningful. While traditional music survives today and gives the
new musical tradition a sound base, there is always the attempt to
revitalise it and bridge it to the needs of urban society and the
youth sub-culture. But what is most important is the new role
given to traditional music: it is to provide a base upon which a music
distinctively Malaysian is to be created as a national identity.

II. Traditional Malay Music: The Royal Tradition

Traditional Malay music like the overall culture of the Malays is
characterised by two features: its tenacity in maintaining its basic
identity in spite of changes that take place as a result of cultural
contacts arid its receptivity to foreign influences without sacrificing
its own basic character. The history of Malay music is difficult to
chart, but today after Malay society has experienced a massive
socio-cultural change as the result of Western cultural influence
the music which must have originated in the remote past of history
has survived, both in the folk segment of the society and in the
higher cultural circles.
If we go by the written texts of the Malay histories (sejarah)
from about the 15th century AD., there had already been music in
the courts of the Malay royal rulers. The Hikayat Petani’, the chro-
nicle of the ancient state of Petani (now part of South Thailand) in
the l5th-l7th centuries, has given us a vivid account of the nobat,

208
the court music which is a must on royal occasions like the enthro-
nement of a king, the last rites of a dead king, the assembly of nob-
les and courtiers before the ruler and so on. Similarly the Sejarah
Melayu, the chronicle of the old kingdom of Malacca in the 15th
and 16th centuries, also provides us with references to nobat,
which has been translated by C. C. Brown as “the drum of sove-
reignty.”2 This is form of music is inherited by the present-day Ma-
lay sultanates in Malaysia.
The basic nobat instruments are the same, although the ensem-
ble differs in size from state to state, or in fact from time to time.
During the heyday of the Malay rulers in Patani in the 16th cen-
tury, there were 32 instruments in use. The basic instruments
were nafiri, serunal, two two-headed drums and one big one-
headed drum. In the past, the instruments were made of silver,
especially the nafiri and the serunai, while the drums were covered
with silver too. The music of the nobat is rather solemn and each
royal court has its own repertoire of music. Thus the old court of
Patani boasted of 25 tunes, while the present nobat ensembles in
the Malay states do not have half as many. In the past, only certain
families were qualified to play the nobat, thus preserving its sac-
red and exclusive aura.3
The cultural tradition of the nobat has to be explained in the con-
text of the structure of traditional Malay society.4 The nobat was
one of the cultural paraphanalia which were used to support the
legitimacy and authority of the ruling class, thus preserving a
social structure based on a division of the population into the
ruling class, the nobility, and the rakyat or the ruled. A further
division was visible: the nobility also had a hierarchy among them-
selves, with the royal family at the top, the titled gentry coming
second and those accorded honorific titles by the sultan as a re-
ward for good deeds and thus joining the ranks of the nobility. The
sacred aura of the nobat is maintained not only by the status ac-
corded to it, but also by the belief that the instruments were of
extra-ordinary nature. The sound of the nobat demands the res-
pect of the people equal to that due to the ruler himself. Thus
when one hears the sound of the nobat, he must stop whatever he
is doing as if he were in the presence of the ruler himself.5 Such was
the status of the nobat in the traditional Malay polity. TJ~ienobat
instruments may not exactly be called the royal regalia which sym-
bolise the power and authority of the rulers, but are equally looked
upon with awe as they are supposed to possess certain sacred qua-
lities, and are believed to be possessed by spirits.6 Today the

209
nobat still features in the royal ceremonies of the Malay royal
courts, and even the central government adopts it for the court
ceremonies of the Yang di-Pertuan Agong (the Paramount Ruler) .~
Apart from the nobat, the less serious form of musIc was also
found in the courts of the Malay rulers. Usually the music was for
the accompaniment of the court dancers as they danced to enter-
tain the sultan and his courtiers. The court of Kelantan had the
famous Tan Asyik, which, if one were to consider the fact that it
was mentioned in the Hikayat Petani, must have survived for the
past four hundred years. Tan Sri Mubin Sheppard who has taken a
great interest in reviving some of the traditional Malay music, tells
us of an old lady who was trained to become one of the Asyik8 dancers in
Probably
the royal court of Kelantan at the turn of this century.
she was the only one left to remember the kind of musical ensem-
ble accompanying the Asyik. According to her, there were a num-
ber of one-headed elongated drums called Gedombak Asyik, a kind
of xylophone encased in a boat-shaped box called gembang and a
rebab, an instrument with two or three strings. All the instruments
were played by the women of the courts, except for the rebab
which was played by a man. The Asyik however had died out as it
had lost royal patronage, but attempts to revive it have been made,
but without the original instruments. Instead, a new ensemble
which is quite similar to the one used for shadow-play has been
substituted for it, complete with a pair of gongs.9
The other type of music known to have been patronised by the
Malay royal courts was a kind of gamelan, but reduced in size com-
pared to the Javanese one. During the late nineteenth century, the
courts of Riau-Lingga and Pahang were known tq have this ensem-
ble, which comprised two xylophones, one of which is called gem-
bang and the other “sarun”, three types of gongs and one drum.
The gembang has 20 wooden keys arranged close together in a
wooden frame, while the sQrOn, which comes in a pair, comprised 6
brass keys in a carved wooden frame. The keromong consists of
ten small boss gongs laid on a network of strings in two rows,
encased in a wooden stand. The other instrument, the kenong,
consists of three deep-rimmed gongs placed upright on three sepa-
rate tall stands. The last instrument is the Malay gong called
tawak-tawak, which is suspended in a pair from a frame. The
gamelan provides a soothing music which accompanies the joget,
which is danced by girls in the palace specially trained for the
prupose.’ The dance as well as the gamelan would have disappea-
red if not for a royal Pahang princess who married Sultan Sulaiman

210
of Trengganu early this century and brought with her the gamelan
set as well as the courtly dance joget to Trengganu.” Even there
the music as well as the dance had been in abeyance for some time
until revived in the sixties by Tan Sri Mubin Sheppard. The resur-
rected gamelan ensemble and the joget with its bevy of dancers
dressed up in distinctive costumes reminiscent of bygone days of
the traditional Malay court performed for the first time in public
during the conference and festival of traditional drama and music
of Southeast Asia in Kuala Lumpur in 1969.

Ill. The Folk Tradition

Apart from the nobat the dichotomy of court and folk traditions
in Malay music is not clear-cut. In fact what have survived as folk
theatres with their attendant music might have at one time been
patronised by the royal court. The cultural traditions of Malay
music therefore are better observed through the different types of
music extant among the Malay folk today. While there is an obser-
vable variety in musical expressions among the Malays, and this
fact is reflected in the easily identifiable regional musical tradi-
tions such as the Wayang Kulit musical ensemble in Kelantan,
Kedah and Perlis, the Ghazal in Johore and the Dondang Sayang
in Malacca, there is also a homogeneity to be seen in the musical
ensembles within a particular region or even in the whole of the
country. This state of affair reflects the civilisation in the Malay
Archipelago: while diversity of culture is clearly to be seen, yet
within the heterogeneity we can find a thread common to all these
cultures.
There are many ways by which we can discuss the cultural tradi-
tions of Malay music. But the best would be to go by the main
traditions as represented by the different types of ensembles, their
characteristics and their place in the life of the society. The most
widespread form of music is the one using single-headed drums
called the rebana or variations of it called by other names. Basically
a rebana is a drum with the face made of cattle or goat skin
over a circular rim, which is usually made out of piece of wood.
The rim or the body vanes in size as well as depth. From a
small and shallow one which can easily be held in one’s hand to a
big and deep one which is usually placed on the lap. There are
many different ways of tuning a rebana but the most common is to
,

insert a rattan coil between the skin and the body, a process usual-
ly known as sedak The other common way is to have a rattan ring
extending just beyond the bottom of the body, and the tuning is

211
done by inserting a peg into the space between the ring and the
bottom of the body, thus tightening the rattan pieces which con-
nect the face of the drum to the ring.
As stated, there are many different types of rebana, and each
locality would have its own style. But some are quite widespread
as in rebana kercing or kompang, so-called because it has two
pieces of small brass discs inserted into the side of the body at two
or three places. Thus when the face is hit the brass discs contri-
bute their own jinggling sound, or when the rebana is shaken, the
brass discs will jingle like the tambourine. A small rebana called
tar is used in Sawarak for bridal processions but it is also known in
Peninsular Malaysia, usually in performances like the rodat, a
dance which has a religious cor~notationand popular in Treng-
ganu.
The rebana is usually associated with religious chants and
“dances”, and these are known by many different names and per-
formed in many different ways. They are variously called Dzikir,
Ratib, Nazam. Hadrab, Rodat. Radat. Maulud etc. The common
name Dikir, which consists of verses praising the Holy Prophet
Muhammad (Peace be Unto Him), is accompanied by the beating
of the rebana. There may or may not be a dance, as in the case of
the Ratib where dancing in the form of stepping to the rhythm of
the rebana is performed. One example is Ratib Saman which is
found in a widespread area including the Malays of Sarawak. A
performance in a village of Muara Tuang in Sarawak, for instance,
consists of a group of people in a circle with a leader called the
Khalifah in the middle. The dance consists of many variations of
stepping movements following the leader’s chant and the chorus by
the circle. Two or three rebana accompany the dance. The Rodat
of Trengganu in its older form was more elaborate, having men
dressed as woman dancing with feet and hand movements to the
accompaniment of the rebana. Today, the dance has been revived
by some youth organizations of the state, but the form has chang-
ed. Instead of having men dressed up as women, young girls now
take part in the dance troupe, and non-religious popular songs are
also included in the repertoire. In Sarawak, at the village of
Situnggang, the Rodat is called Radat, and it is performed
in a mosque. Here, the dance consists of some stepping and hand
movements by two rows of dancers, one consisting of boys and
another of girls, with the Khalifah and his assistant between the
two rows. There are about eight to ten rebana players accompany-
ing the dance. The Hadrah which is the style to be found in the

212
northern state of Kedah consists of a group of rebana players and a
pair of dancers, both male, but one is dressed and made up like a
woman. Again the verses sung to the accompaniment of the rebana
have religious connotations. Nazam Maulud or Berzanji may or may
,

not be accompanied by the rebana, but as in the case of others

belonging to this group they are chants in praise of the Prophet
Muhammad (Peace be Unto Him) or verses of religious teachings
and moralistic guides to good Islamic behaviour. The Nazam is the
term used in the state of Trengganu and parts of Pahang, and con-
fined to women. The Maulud is usually held during the month
commemorating the birth of Prophet Muhammad (Peace be Unto
Him), but may be chanted on special occasions like the cere-
mony of cutting the first lock of the child’s hair. Berzanji is also the
chanting of verses on religious teachings and injunctions.
Except for some attempts to chant in the indigenous language,
like one Maulud group in Pulau Besar, Trengganu, or like the
modernised Rodat which has included popular songs, the collec-
tion of cultural activities described above are expressed in verses
in the Arabic language. But the chanting is so stylised and since it
is articulated by the simple folk who have had little or no education
whatsoever in Arabic apart from reciting the Quran, the articula-
tion leaves much to be aesired. But these chants are activities
which form an important part of the cultural life: they combine
play-elements and religious inspiration. The formal Islamic rituals
are confined to the five daily prayers, a congregational prayer on
Friday afternoon, fasting during the month of Ramadhan, the pil-
grimage or the Haji, and the observances of certain occasions like
the Id festivals, the commemoration of the ascension of Prophet
Muhammad (Peace be Unto Him) (lsrak and Mikraj), the remembrance
of the death of Hassan and Hussein at Katbala, the prophet’s birthday
or the revelation of the first chapter of the Quran. These are observ-
ed and often regarded as rituals, although some of the observances
are not recognized as such by the strict Muslims. But a society has
other occasions to observe which have to do with things like the
life-cycle of individuals or to fulfil the need to strengthen commu-
nal feelings and so on. It is on such occasions that the chants, and
the rebana that goes with them, become a feature. Thus, the wed-
ding procession of the bridegroom to the bride’s house in Singa-
pore would be preceded by a k~mpanggroup of ten to twenty (or
even more) players, chanting in Arabic verses following the leader
(khalifah). Or in Trengganu, the Maulud is chanted when the
child’s first lock of hair is shorn or in Malacca when the child for

213
the first time sets foot on the ground, both with the hope that the
child would emulate the exemplary conduct of the Holy Prophet (Peace
by Unto Him), whose life and character are being chanted in the verses.
The Circumcision is also preceded not only by a feast (ken-
dun) but also by a recitation of the Berzanji. At weddings in Pa-
hang, while the women stay awake the night through preparing
the feast and other paraphanalia. some middle-aged men would
beat the rebana and chant the Diklr till dawn, thus keeping the
women company. Or among the Sarawak Malays, the Ratib Saman
is perfomed by the men of the village to make a wedding or a
circumcision a livelier event, if not more religious in meaning.
Suffice to say that the tradition that has centred around the rebana
is an extension of the religious mood, from the ritualistic and
sacred to the mundane and social.
In fact the rebana has made this type of music-making a homo-
genous cultural phenomenon throughout the Malay Archipelago,
and basically it has an Islamic religious connotation. It is not
known how the tradition originated in the Archipelago, but it must
have originated from places whence Islam spread, the Indian sub-
continent or Persia. The tradition of chanting religious verses to
the rhythm of the drum and with slow stepping dances and finger
movements is widespread in the Islamic world, but the various
styles which have been developed in the Malay Archipelago have
some uniformity within the area, but are quite distinctive from the
traditions of other Muslim areas. The deep religious drive has
found expression in the variety of rhytmic patterns from the
rebana which accompany the Arabic chants, and from this basic
form. it has developed into a variety of styles reflected not only by
the different kinds of performances but also by the variety of~reba-
na constructed. One significant variety is the large rebana made in
Kelantan. Known as Rebana Ubi and Rebana Besar, they are un-
like other rebana because of their sizes. While the usual rebana
can be carried in the hand, or placed on the lap, Rebana Ubi and
Rebana Besar are large and heavy and are beaten not with the
palm of the hand but with sticks. And their role is not like the ordi-
nary rebana; they are played during the after-harvest celebrations.
During such celebrations, the rebana players are pitted against
one another, either in teams or individually. The rhythmic pattern
produced by the beating of the rebana, especially by the interloc-
king rhythm produced by more than one rebana, is the basis of the
competition. Thus while the rebar&a is usually associated with
music-making and this has religious connotations, it has been

214
extended to take in innovations and used for non-religious occa-
sions such as after-harvest festivals.
The other complex of musical tradition is the ensembles which
accompany traditional preformances, such as the shadow play,
usually referred to as Wayang Kulit, the dramatic performance
Mak Yong, the Gendang Kling and Mek Mulung of Kedah and
Perlis. The musical ensembles for these performance are based on
a number of common instruments: gong, rebab, two-headed drum
(gendang), one-headed drum of different types. the oboe (serunai)
and other smaller percussion instruments. But the actual composi-
tion of the ensemble differs one from another. Although it has
been suggested that these different ensembles might have diffe-
rent provenances, I am inclined to think that in terms of the non-
musical aspects of the ensembles, like the musical instruments,
the function of the ensembles, the belief system connected with
performances and the places of the performance in the life of the
people, they all seem to point to a single tradition. In the first
place, these ensembles are found in the northern states of Kelan-
tan, Kedah and Perlis, while in the neighbouring states to the
south, in Trengganu, Pahang and Perak, we do find some occur-
rences of this style of musical ensembles. Further to the south, the
musical feature shows a marked difference as to be seen later.
The Wayang Kulit ensemble can be found as far south as Jo-
hore, but this one clearly belongs to a different tradition: it has a
gamelan-type of music. The ensembles in Kelantan, Kedah and
Perlis show an affinity between them, although those in Kelantan
seem to be compratively elaborate with more instruments. A
typical Wayang Kulit ensemble in Kelantan consists of the follo-
wing instruments: two oboes (serunal), a pair of one-headed
drums of a particular shape called gedombak, a pair of two-headed
drums called gendang. a pair of two-headed drums which are beat-
en with two sticks and placed at an inclination supported by two
legs (geduk), a pair of small bossed gongs placed upright and sus-
pended on a wooden stand (canang), a pair of small cupped cym-
bals (kesi) and a pair of gongs (tawak-tawak).’2 A Wayang Kulit
ensemble in Kedah has basically the same instruments but may be
less in number, thus it may have one geduk instead of a pair and
the canang doubles up as the gong.’3
The Mak Yong ensemble has basically the same instruments but
with the addition of the rebab, a bowed two or three-stringed
instrument. The style of vocal delivery in the Mak Yong has been
suggested by some scholars as having close similarities with the

215
singing among the Arabs of Hadramout, Yemen and Syria.14 And
the rhythmic accompaniment of the music is said to be related to
the concept of metres in Arabic music. These views are given
mainly from the point of the technical, including the vocal rende-
ring, aspect of the music, but from the other features, especially
the themes and nature of the stories enacted, they show more affi-
nities with the indigenous folk traditions, like the folk-tales and
folk-beliefs. The simplest ensemble within this complex is the
Gendang Kling of Perlis and Northern Kedah. It comprises a pair
of serunai, a pair of gendang and a pair of gongs.15
It is difficult to talk in terms of scale or measure in this type of
music. There is simply no conception of standaradisation in the
making of the instruments: two Wayang Kulit ensembles may
have the same instruments, but their measurements can differ
greatly.16 The emphasis of the music is on the interlocking rhyth-
mic pattern created by the drums, while the nebab and the serunai
weave the melodies. The percussions gongs, canang and the
kesi — provide the constant beat.
Notwithstanding the observations made with regard to the
foreign origins or influences that might have helped to shape the
music that accompanies Malay folk performances in the northern
states, it must be admitted that the cultural traditions of these
musical ensembles are deeply rooted in the folk culture of the local
people. Belief pertaining to the performances, the instruments and
the players are steadfastly held to, so that rituals form an impor-
tant part of the tradition. No performance is begun without the
stage, the instruments and the players being blessed first so as to
be protected from evil forces. In fact, the music and the perfor-
mance are not merely for entertainment at weddings or other festive
occasions; they are the extension of the supernatural world around
us which is a reality in the belief system of the Malay peasantry. It
is inherent in the beliefs of the Malay peasants in Kelantan, Ke-
dah, Perlis and elsewhere that in another dimension of our world
there exist supernatural beings, and these creatures will have to
be propitiated so as to preserve a harmony between the world of
mortals and that of the immortals. Rituals are often held, as in
propitiating the rice spirits (semangat padi), the sea-spirits (hantu
taut) and the pestilence which brings diseases. And not only are
performances forming part of the whole ritualistic system, the
actual rituals themselves are conducted to the accompaniment of
the same type of music. Thus curing rituals like Main Puteri
employ The same kind of music; so also the ritual to appease the

216
spirits of the sea (Puja Pantai). Unlike the modern notion that
music is separate from other aspects of our life, the music and the
performances among the Malay folk in the northern states of the
Malay Peninsula are part and parcel of their everyday life. Only in
one instance do they make the separation, and that is between the
kind of music described here and the Islamic religious activities,
including, in their perception, music and performances of the
rebana complex already described above. The conflict becomes
pronounced when the religious leaders condemn traditional music
as being inconsistent with Islamic observances.
Outside the northern area dealt with above, the rest of the Pe-
ninsula does not show a homogeneous tradition on folk music. Part
of the reason is that most of the population in these states were not
as stable and perhaps not as long established as the people in the
northern states who had carved out for themselves a rice civiliza-
tion on the flat plains of the area. There is a great intermixture of
Malays in states south of Kedah and Trengganu, and the folk
music developed in these states reflects this fact. The immigration
of the Javanese into the states of Johore and Selangor from the last
century has seen the transportation of Javanese folk culture and
music. Thus Wayang Kulit and Kuda Kepang are two of the most
popular to be found in the various villages where the Javanese had
settled. Thus Wayang Kulit in Johore or in Tanjung Karang in
Selangor does not share the tradition of the theatre in the north,
and its musical ensemble consists of gamelan type of instruments.
It is an obvious by-product of the Javanese immigration into Jo-
hore and the coastal region of Selangor when the states were open
to rubber and coconut plantations in the case of Johore and rice-
cultivation in the case of Selangor. Another by product was Kuda
Kepang, a group dance imitating the movements-of horses, with
the dancers carrying flat hobby-horses by their side as if they were
riding them. Again, the music reflects an importation from Java.
The only instruments common with the northern tradition are the
gong and the drum (gendang).
Apart from the Javanese derived music of Kuda Kepang and
Wayang Kulit, the state of Johore has adopted a music greatly
influenced by Perso-Indian music as its distinctiv.e music tradition.
The term traditional in this sense is only meaningful when the
Ghazal music7as Theit is Gho.zal
called is putstarted
in relation
at thetoturn
the urban
was of the musical
present
performance.’
century by some Johore government officials who were taught
Hindustani music by an Indian teacher. In fact the beginning of the

217
Ghazal was in the Hindustani songs accompanied by an ensemble
consisting of harmonium. tabla or gendang (drum). violin and the
oud (locally known as gambus). The Ghazal actually underwent a
lot of modifications throughout its short history. However, the
basic instruments today consist of the harmonium, violin, gambus
(oud), guitar, mandolin and the tabla or gendang. As can be seen
from these instruments and also the origin of the music itself, it is
difficult to regard Ghazal music as an autochtonous element of Ma-
lay culture, but it has taken such a deep roots among the Malays of
Johore as a music of entertainment, gracing such occasions as
weddings, festivals and gatherings, that it has been regarded as
traditional music belonging to the state.
The Ghazal music is quite distinctive from other traditional
music of the Malays; its Perso-Hindustani provenance is clear, and
the musical instruments are hardly indigenous except for the
gendang, and yet it has the appeal and the sensitivity which are
consonant with the Malay ear for music. The Ghazal is an example
where an importation is accepted as a tradition. Not only has it
become a form of entertainment in the life of the people, but it has
also given a meaning and value to the culture. When the onslaught
of Western popular music poses a threat to the cultural identity of
the people, they fall back on music like the Ghazal as a cultural
expression which provides the rallying point for that identity. Thus
the Ghazol provides not only a tradition of music, but stimulates its
own development as an entity recognized as the state of Johore’s
own distinctive type of music.
An example of acculturation is to be seen in the music which
accompanies the popular dance called Rbnggeng or Joget. The
basic instruments are a combination of traditional local instru-
ments and imported ones: a gong which gives a constant beat, a
two-headed drum called gendang which provides the rhythmic pat-
tern, and a violin or accordian which gives the melody. The Rong-
geng or Joget might have been influenced by Portuguese music
but it is regarded as traditionally Malay. It accompanies a social
dance where a man dances with a woman but keeps a respectable
distance from each other. As a dance, the Ronggeng soon became
commercialised as part of urban entertainment where Ronggeng
girls act as dance partners for a fee. And as part of the growth of
popular urban culture, the Ronggeng as a dance as well as the
music became modernised. The gendang soon gave way to the
modern drum set,. and the ensemble was enlarged into a modern
orchestra. The dance steps soon graduated into the samba, conga,

218
fox-trot and quick-step. The gong, however, was usually retained
as the traditional Ronggeng or Joget was still in demand, especially
for the middle-aged and older patrons who could not keep up with the
modern hot numbers.
Somewhat akin to the Ronggeng is the Dondang Sayang which is
the traditional music of the Malacca Malays. Also a musiç~set to a
social dance, Dondang Sayang has been given a “swing”~version,
which is more lively and faster in tempo, but retaining its basic
melody. The instruments are a gong which keeps the constant
beat, the rebana to give the tempo or rhythm and the violin or
accordian to provide the melody. The vocal rendering of Dondang
Sayang Is important because part of the beauty of it is the way it is
vocalised by the singer. It is a tradition which has taken in a new
element in the violin, and by doing so has added greater vitality to
it as a lively music.
It is possible that in order to look for the original version of the
Ronggeng, Joget or Dondang Sayangas a form of social dance, we
have to turn to the Sarawak Malays. The strict Islamic code of con-
duct would not have allowed for men and women to dance and face
each other as in the Ronggeng. Joget or Dondang Sayang. In fact it
would be unlslamic to find the women dancing in public before an
audience of strangers. The Ronggeng, Joget or Dondang Sayang
as a social dance therefore must have developed quite late, per-
haps with the progress of urbanisation in Peninsular Malaysia
during the last quarter of the nineteenth century and had brought
with it some laxity in the Islamic code of behaviour in urban areas.
The version of the Ronggeng or Joget in Sarawak is known as the
Gendang. As a musical form, it is based on the interlocking rhyth-
mic beating of the rebana by two or more women while they sing
the pantun. These women would sit behind a curtain and their pan-
tun would be answered by the men on the other side of the curtain.
As a dance form, the Gendang music is danced to by a couple of
men just like the Ronggeng and Joget, that is, the dancers face one
another while stepping to the rhythm of the gendang or drums.
The separation between men and women by the screen is in keeping
with the Islamic code, but even then there had been criticisms
against the Gendang as unbeneficial to the well-being and progress
of Sarawak Malays in modern times’8 Today the Gendang is rende-
red in two styles: the more traditional Gendang Melayu Lama and
the moreswine,, GendangMelayu Baru. However, both are danced toas
the way Ronggeng and ~ogetare, that is men may dance with women
without having a screen to separate them.

219
IV. The Place of Traditional Music In Contemporary Society
The cultural traditional of Malay music are diverse, and yet cer-
tain homogeneity exists among the different forms of the music.
This state of affairs reflects not only the history of the people but
also the factors that contribute to shape the socio-cultural patterns
existing today. Thus, as Malay culture had undergone the periods
of Indian, Islamic and European influences, so has the music
shown elements which have resulted from this inter-mixture of
influences. What is traditional music is difficult to define, and yet
people would distinguish easily what they regard as belonging to
traditional Malay music and what they refer to as modern music.
Wayang Kulit, Mak Yong, Gendang K!ing or Dikir are without
doubt traditional forms and recognized as such, but Ghaza! and
Dondang Sayang are also regarded as traditional although modern
instruments are included and in the instance of Ghaza! it started
only at the turn of the century. In the case of rebana music
accompanying the chants (dikir, ratib or maulud), it has been
identified as an extension of religious needs. While various styles of
presentation have been invented in different places, the key instru-
ment (rebana) seems to remain as the central link between the
different presentations.
The rebana tradition of accompanying religious chants and
dances would remain as long as Islam continues to be a dominant
force in Malay life and the people have enough time to devote to
this kind of art. The country music and dances have been rescued
from oblivion and propelled today as music and dance. Similarly
the folk music and performances like Wayang Kulit, Mak Yong
Gendang Kling or Dondang Sayang are given a new status and ele-
vated from the village theatrical stage to the national theatre as
elements that will contribute towards the building of national cul-
ture. Even the Ghazal vies for the same honour, being regarded as
indigenous and traditional in form. The search for national identity
based on indigenous culture includes music and this fact gives a
new meaning to the traditional music of Malaysia. Thus a new cul-
tural tradition is created where localised folk music as well as mori-
bund court music become the property of the whole nation.
In all probability, nebana music would continue to be a vigorous
tradition at local level. Malay community life would still continue
to have the Maulud, the Bersanji, the Dikir or the Ratib as semi-
religious observances among the men, but the Nazam among the
women in Trelngganu has seen a marked decline, although in some

220
areas. it seems to have been recently revitalised.’ While the Rodat
in Sarawak is still very much a local affair, its counterpart in
Trengganu has always been a public performance as in the case
also with the Hadrah of Kedah. In fact the Trengganu J-?odat and
the Kedah Hadrah are sonq-and-dance forms with religious conno-
tations. However, only in the case of Rodat that we find a cons-
cious attempt to transform it into a more popular form, but losing
its religious significance in the process.2”
What is obvious is the fact that traditional music, be it of courtly
strain or folk menifestation, is the only type of music which can be
projected as truly belonging to the indigenous cultures of the
country, in spite of the fact that it has within itself a great deal of
borrowed elements. It is the question of perception and concep-
tion, rather than the question of music. The case in point is the
Ghazal as has been explained before. Thus, as part of the pro-
gramme to promote recognisable indigenous elements as the
corner-stone for the building of traditions which Malaysians can
proudly call their own, traditional music in different forms is cons-
ciously being uplifted from their own limited local environments to
a wider national attention. Some of the efforts in this direction
include the adoption of traditional musical ensembles to accom-
pany newly choreographed dances (also perceived as tradition-
based), the encouragement given to revitalise local traditional
music (eg. Gendang Kling of Kedah and Kuda Kepang of the
Javanese communities), and the special programmes on traditio-
nal and folk music on the mass-media, especially on radio and
television.
The official promotion of traditional music, especially by the
Ministry of Culture, Youth and Sports and Radio and Television
Malaysia, has one definite effect, and that is to bring a greater
awareness to a greater number of people of the existence of tradi-
tional musical forms.2’ A positive response to such attempts has
come from intellectual ‘groups, including university students and
staff, who seem to understand the significance of the whole thing.
Studies and also recreation of traditional Malay music for specific
purposes (eg. perfomances) are some of the new-found interests in
traditional music. In the meantime, within their own social con-
texts, the different forms of traditional music continue to function
in the everyday life of the people. But with the attention gãven to
them, they have now an added value attached to them. In the past,
the status of the musician or a theatrical performer had never been
high in Malay society, partly because of the popularly held view

221
that music and entertainment were not compatible with religious
piety. Even economically, the performer has never commanded a
22 Music or theatre is always a part-
good income
theinperformer
Malay society.
time work: is usually a farmer and has his own field
to attend to. The only exception is when the performer is physically
handicapped. In traditional society, the professional story-teller
(penglipur lana) was usually blind or handicapped in one way or
another. But this particular breed of artistes is already on the dec-
line. In the case of traditional music, only in areas where its func-
tion as a ritual element is much in demand, like in Kelantan where
the musical ensemble is used for the wayang as well as the curing
rituals, that the tradition continues to be vigorous. In other areas,
even in Kedah and Perlis where the same kind of tradition had
prevailed as in Kelantan, traditional music like Gendang Kling or
Wayang- Kulit have been on the decline. It is only after the Mi-
nistry of Culture, Youth and Sports has intervened that there
seems to be a revival or at least a new enthusiasm for traditiønal
music. The same can be said for Gendang Melayu in Sarawak:
cultural shows and state celebrations usually feature the Gendang
besides the traditional performances of other indigenous groups
of Sarawak.
To say that there is a revival in traditional Malay music today is
not quite true, but certainly there is a new consciousness as well as
a new perception towards what is regarded as traditional music in
contemporary society in Malaysia.

Notes
1. See A Teeuw and D.K. Wyatt, Hikayat Patani: The Story of Patani the Hague:
Martinus Nijhoff (1970), pp, 141—145.
2. See CC.. Brown (fr), Sejarah Melayu or Malay Annals, Kuala Lumpur/
Singapore: Oxford University Press, 1970, P. 18.
3. In the State of Perak, the royal nobat was handled by a group of people known as
Orang Kalau” and a special tax was levied to support them.
4. See my discussion on the nobat as reflective of the stratified Malay society
of past in “Some Observations on the Socio-Cultural Context of Traditional
Malay Music”, Tenggara No. 5 (1969), pp. 122—125.
5. See Syed Altei Al-Hady, Malay, Customs and Traditions, Singapore: Eastern
Universities Press, 1962, pp. 82—83.
6. See Walter William Skeat, Malay Magic (Reprint) New York Dover
Publications, 1967, p. 41.
7. Although the institution of kingship for the Malaysian Federation is newly
constituted, it retains a continuity with the past as represented by the symbols

222
 of authority and the ceremonials (of which nobat is a part) which retain the
age-old traditional symbols and ceremonials of the royal Malay courts of
bygone ages.
8. Mubin Sheppard, “Peranan Muzik Malaysia Termasuk Jenis-jenis Ethnic dan
Istiadat pada Memajukan Keperibadian Malaysia” (The role of Malaysian
Music, including Ethnic and Ceremonial types, for developing a Malaysian
identity”). Asas Kebudayaan Kebangsaan, Kuala Lumpur: Ministry ofCulture, Youth
and Sports, 1973, p. 228.
op. cit.
10. Swettenham, Sir A Frank, Malay Sketches, London: Balantyne Press, 1895, pp.44
—51.
11. Mubin Sheppard, Thid, p. 229.
12. See Mohd. Ghouse Nasaruddin, “Muzik Etnik Malaysia (Malaysian Ethnic
Music)” in Bahasa Kesusasteraan dan Kebudayaan Melayu (Malay Lan~tiage,
Literature and Culture). Kuala Lumpur: Ministry of Culture, Youth and Sport, 1976,
pp. 168 — 182).
13. Ku Zam Zam Ku Idris, “Muzik Tradisional Melayu di Kedah Utara
(Traditional Malay Music in Northern Kedah ~...), Master’s diss., Dept. of
Malay Studies, University of Malaya, 1978, pp. 87-~-88.
14. According to Prof. W.P. Maim as reported by Mubin Sheppard (Ibid. p. 266
and in his commentary to the record in UNESCO’s Anthology of Oriental
Collection: Traditional Music of West Malaysia).
15. Ku Zam Zam, Ibid., pp. 178 — 179.
16. See Mohd. Ghouse Nasaruddin, Ibid. p. 165.
17. No serious study has so far been made of the Ghazal but for a popular account
of how it all began, see two articles in Kebudayaan, a publication comme-
morating the 17th Anniversary of Bandar Penggaram, Johore. The first article
by Idris bin Daud, “Panduan Ghazal Lagu-lagu Melayu Johor” (pp. 108 — 118),
and the second by Radin Muhammad Chik, “Batu Pahat Ghazal Parti”
(pp. 119—120).
18. For example a novel “Meiati Sarawak” (The Jasmine of Sarawak) by one
Muhammad Rakawi bin Yusof, published in 1932, relates how the downfall
of a promising young Malay in Sarawak was caused by his intense liking for
the Gendang parties.
19. See my report on Oral Tradition in Ulu Tembeling Pahang, in ASIDOC,
Asian Cultural Documentation Centre for UNESCO Tehran) Vol. 1, Nos.
3—4 (Autumn 1977), Pp. 38—49.
20. I have referred to this kind phenomenon as the “recycling of tradition”. The
Rodat group in Kuala Brang, Trengganu, for example, was formed as part
of youth activity in the district. The repertoire of this group consists mostly
of current popular songs. Except for some chorus in Arabic, the religious ele-
ment found in the original form of Rodat is almost non-existent.
21. For instance the competition in folk music telecast by Television Malaysia
which features Dikir Barat, Dondang Sayang, Keroncong, and Boria. The last
two can hardly be classified as “traditioiial” in the true sense of the word, but
like Ghazal they tend to be perceived as being “traditional music”.
“Keroncong” and “Boria” are of quite recent origin, and even the label “folk”
attached to them is debatable.
22. See Ku Zam Zam, Ibid, pp. 222 — 241.

223
15
A PLACE FOR TRADITIONAL TECHNOLOGY IN
INDUSTRIALISATION PLANNING, PENINSULA
MALAYSIA *

To those brought up and living in urban centres, technology is

something often taken for granted. Through the advancement
already achieved in developing his technology, man’s relationship
with nature has become so remote that it is not relevant any more
to perceive that many article in use have as their base elements
from natural surroundings. Through advanced technology, a
secondary environment has been built upon man-made objects and
machines without which it is now difficult to organize the business
of life.
In the preoccuppation with modern technology, especially in the
name of matenal progress, it is often forgotten that in the Third
World there exists technology of the old order which still plays an
important part in the socio-economic life of the poorer segment of
the population. Colonialism had brought with it not only a new
gevermental order but also an economic policy which had debilita-
ting effects on colonized societies. While the colonies became the
producers of raw materials needed to feed the machines in the
factories of Europe, they were also the ultimate market for the

Based on a paper read at the 3rd Inter-Congress of the Pacific Science

Association, held in Denpasar. Bali. Indonesia, 18-22 July. 1977. The writer
wishes to record that the fieldwork carried out in Kuala Kangsar. Perak. and
Kuala Trengganu, Trengganu. was made from a grant given by the University
of Malaya under its Vote F.

224
manufactured products. In the case of Malaysia, for example, the
natives were said to be unsuitable to participate in the colonial
economic network, and therefore immigrant workers were impor-
ted to work in the ri~bberestates and tin mines. In fact an idyllic
and contented picture was painted of the native life. Their traditio-
nal economic activities were preserved, largely around rice-
grcs~ving,fishing and the collection of jungle produce, and a little
assistance was given in the form of irrigation of the rice-fields or
proyision of technical advice. So the Malay peasant was left as he
was until 1957 when the post-colonial independent government
made it its primary concern to up-lift the livelihood of the rural
people, who formed the bulk of the country’s population, and it is
this segment that has managed to preserve the older forms of
technology, for the life of the peasantry did not change that much
under colonial tutelage and the old ways of doing things using
traditional machines and know-how survived. Traditional techno-
logy, as has been shown in the history of the industrial revolution
in Europe, would not necessarily disappear in the face to modern
inductrialisation, but its role and place in the changing situation
would need to be re-examined and appraised. This should not be
done only from the point of view of techno-economic enhancement,
but rather also from a stance for a greater understanding of the
nature of traditional technology in its relationship with social life.
The paper attempts to do this for Peninsular Malaysia with
reference to the weaving of pandanus products and the manufac-
ture of brassware and pottery.

Identifying Traditional Technology

Generally speaking techniques using traditional tools are sel-
dom referred to as a technology, a term which tends to be associa-
ted with modern production techniques and machines. So the older
techniques come to be known by many different labels such as
cottage industry, village industry, rural industry, house-hold
indusrty, handicraft or folk craft. In some of the literature on small
industry, especially those dealing with the problems of industrial
organization and economics, the term handicraft may not even be
equated with industry or technology, for it is said to be more con-
cerned with art Thus handicraft can be canied on even in an urban
area in a specialised and highly sophisticated environment Handi-
craft is further differentiated from cottage industry as in India
(Hoselits, 1968), cottage industry referring to production supplying.
the needs of villagers and handicraft to peasant arts and crafts

225
 meeting household needs and village or urban arts and crafts.
Shetty (1963), for example, gives four criteria for cottage industry:
‘work place’, ‘employment’, ‘use of motive power’ and ‘extent
- of market served’. For work place, the activity is done in the
artisan’s residence; for employment, the work is done by family
labour; for power, it is mainly manual labour; and for market, it
does not extend beyond the locality where the industry is found.
While the criteria are useful, they inevitably serve as the difinition
of handicraft as well, or the socio-ecQnomic factors surrounding
the output of handicraft can be similar. It should be remembered
that handicraft can also be a specialized industry involving well-
established firms which export these products to other countries.
However, a better guide could be the difinition of handicraft where
it is described as ‘both a method of industrial production and a
form of artistic activity’ (Knight, 1932). As a system, handicraft
has three main characteristics: the output is guided by social,
including religious and ritual, need; a strong tradition of inheri-
ted techniques from past generations; and an extensive use of the
hand, even when tools and machines are used, in manufacturing
the goods. What we mean by traditional technology therefore is
handicraft as delineated above. And as handicraft it is manufactured
in quantity in the homes of the villagers and mostly to meet local
demand. It is equally meaningful to refer to the production using
traditional technology as cottage, village, household or rural
industry. However, there should also be a grading based on eco-
nomic factors. Some cottage industries can be upgraded to small-
scale modern factories while others, by the very nature of their
raw materials, techniques of production, and the attitude towards
them, cannot but remain a handicraft or at best household industry
in the strict sense of the word.
Traditional technology can also be defined as a corpus of know-
ledge, skills, techniques, and implements used in producing and
manufacturing objects or foodstuff which have been inherited
from the past before the introduction of the so-called modern or
advanced technology with its attendant factory system, whatever
its scale. However, as traditional technology exists now or as it
existed even fifty years ago, it is not necessarily in the pre-modern
forms. Traditional technology can be viewed as a continuum model
with the ideal types of traditional technology and modern techno-
logy at the two ends of a pole. This simply means that traditional
technology as its exists now has also taken some elements from the
world of modern technology, and hardly exists any longer in its

226
purest form.
Traditional technology should not be separated from its social.
cultural, economic or technical aspects. In fact all these aspects
are so interrelated and closely woven that it is not possible to take
each in isolation. Traditional technology is the product of as well as
the matrix for traditional society and culture as much as modern or
advanced technology is the product as well as the mould that
gives form to modern civilization. The case of modern technology
provides a clear picture for this. While demands in the life of a
society produce ‘break-throughs’ which make advanced techno-
logy possible, modern technology has in turn created new social
and cultural needs. The need for spatial transpotation over the
centuries has produced such means of transportation from the
handcart to the aircraft. But modern transportation has ceased to
be merely a form of conveyance for it has created around it certain
socio-cultural values as well, such as prestige and status connected
with modes of transportation, speed, aesthetics as against utility in
the construction of vehicles and so on.
Traditional technology must have been born out of necessity too:
to provide shelter from the elements, hence house building; to
provide food for subsistence, hence food production such as agri-
culture and fishing; to provide transportation, hence boats on the
water and carts on land. At the same time man lives in groups or
societies, so he has to organize his relationship with each other.
Thus culture came into being and with it customs, beliefs, norms
and values which regulate the interaction between members of the
groups. Some of these relationships have to be expressed in sym-
bolic forms, such as wedding customs and ceremonies or the initia-
tion of members into status groups and associations. In meeting
such needs too, te~hnologyplays a part. That is to say man learns
to manufacture objects not merely for utilitarian purposes but for
symbolic reasons as well, explaining the artistic element in tradi-
tional technology as an important consideration when discussing
its appropriateness in the face of industrialisation planning today.
But these needs which exist because the old ways of life and
traditional societies still persist do not alone explain the preserva-
tion of traditional technology today. The truth is, given the right
opportunity, the production of traditional goods would be taken
over by modern methods. The constraints are ectually economic to
a larger degree and the lack of modern technical knowledge to a
lesser extent. Another factor that should be taken into account is
the conscious governmental programme to sustain and develop

227
cottage industries, which today are the mainstay of traditional
technology. This is an important consideration, for the continua-
tion and survival of traditional technology also depend on govern-
ment policy. Durin9 colonial times in Peninsular Malaysia special
exhibitions were held yearly where the rural dwellers could display
their prized agricultural produce and the products of their handi-
craft. After independence, the many programmes to uplift the
socio-economic level of the rural folk inevitably involved the cot-
tage industries. Thus, the setting up of the Malaysian Handicraft
Board has had a direct bearing on traditional technology among
rural dwellers. The original organization was called Rural and In-
dustrial Development Authority (RIDA) which was established in
1950. It had as its aim ‘to stimulate, facilitate, and undertake eco-
nomic and social development in the Federation (of Malaya) and
more particularly in the rural areas thereof.’

Traditional Technology in Malaysia

One result of the socio-economic changes brought about by
modernisation and industrialisation in Malaysia since colonial
times has been the general reduction in the incidence of cottage
industries and its attendant traditional technology, despite the fact
that there was a definite policy to preserve it as part of Malay rural
life. However, some have not only survived but have found new
life as in the case of batik and pandanus weaving industries. The
recent revival in the industries is due largely to the encouragement
by the government for the technique as well as the product are looked
upon as a‘national heritage’. The making of batikshirts as formal wear at
important functions is not only motivated by economic considerations
but by nationalistic idealism as well.
Examples of cottage industry using traditional technology in
Peninsular Malaysia can be identified as follows:
i) Handloom industry producing gold or silver-threaded cloth
called songket. The industry is now to be found mainly in
Kelantan and Trengganu, although in the past the use of the
handloom was quite widespread, even on the west coast
ii) Batik industry in Kelantan and Trengganu. Establishments
found in the urban centres may use traditional methods, but
the techniques and raw materials are rather sophisticated for
the establishments usually cater for urban and international
markets.

228
iii) Brassware which is now concentrated in Kuala Terengganu.
iv) Silverware, which is not only jewellery but includes also artic-
les like tea-sets and wall decorations, is to be found in Kota
Bharu, Kelantan.
v) Pandanus weaving, which is widespread, but more developed
as an industry in Rusila, Trengganu, and some villages in
Malacca.
vi) Traditional pottery. This used to be found in at least half a
dozen places in Peninsular Malaysia, but is now found only
along the Perak River, particularly is Sayong, Kuala Kangsar.

Other such industries involving technology inherited from the

past include ironwork which manufactures knives, axes and other
implements for village or household use, and bamboocraft, in-
cluding rattan, reeds and leaves, found in vallages where there is
need for fishtraps, animal traps, chicken-coops, or wall-sidings.
Few studies have been made of the cottage industries in Penin-
sular Malaysia and they are mainly concerned with economic prob-
lems. The most comprehensive studies are on the textile industry,
the handloom and batik industries (Fisk, 1962; Nik Abdul Rashid,
1969; also Gullick 1952; Hill, 1949). These studies throw important
light on the general features of the cottage industry or traditional
technology. Compared to the rest, the songket and batik industries
are better organised and structured, having much bigger capital
outlay and having the biggest market of all the products of tradi-
tional technology in the country. The middle-range cottage
industries — pandanus weaving, brasswork and traditional pot-
tery — have been chosen for the purpose of this paper not so much
because songket and batik have been delved into in greater detail
but rather because the textile industries are already commercia-
used and some have acquired certain features of the factory
system (Staley and Morse, 1965).
Traditional technology actually is a residual technology, that is
to say it is a residue of the past surviving in the present because of
a number of factors. In Peninsular Malaysia, traditional technology
has survived where village life has not changed very much. Fisk
has rightly pointed out that the location of cottage industries does
not necessarily follow the accessibility of the market of the pro-
ducts nor the raw materials (Fisk, 1962). In the case of the hand-
loom industry, for instance, the raw materials are imported, the
market is not confined to the locality but widespread, and although
it must have started around the courts of Sultans who were once

229
the patrons of the industry, this is no longer so, and yet the con-
centration of the industry is in Kelantan and Trengganu, where
low labour costs instead would seem to be compelling reasons for
the location.
The capital turnover and the income accrued from songket and
batik are much higher than the other cottage industries, but when
compared to factory production, they are still very low. In 1967, in-
come from the batik and songket production amounted to $8.7
million or only a quarter of the total income of the textile industry
in Peninsular Malaysia (Nik Abdul Rashid, 1969), far from giving
the true picture of the cottage industry in the country. Compared
to other products, batik has a wider use and larger market, and has
also approximated to the factory system. The figures for songket
are more in line with the economic standing as a cottage industry.
According to Fisk, the handloom industry of the east coast of
Malaya is the largest and most important of the surviving cottage
industries in the Federation of Malaya (Fisk, 1962), but this was in
the middle of the fifties before batik made its impact in the early
sixties. There is an important difference to be remembered. Al-
though batik art has been known to the Malays for a long time, the
impetus to make it a paying industry came from Indonesia only
after the Second World War. With songket it is different; it is an
industry of considerable antiquity and occupies a special place as
an industry because it also enjoys a special position in the traditio-
nal life of the Malays.

Pandanus Weaving
The cottage industry involving the weaving of pandanus leaves
us an example of how traditional technology is closely linked with
peasant economy and way of life and also with the natural environ-
ment. It is not known when man in Southeast Asia first learnt the
art of processing plant-leaves and weaving them into mats, bas-
Iets, dish-covers, hats, boxes and other objects which they use in
their daily life. Weaving of pandanus leaves has been the best
known for it has developed into an art although it must have been
borne out of man’s necessity too. Other leaves besides the pandanus,
bamboo and rattan are also woven into objects like hats (terendak),
fish traps, baskets or screens to serve as walls of rural dwellings.
There are two types of the pandanus which are used by Malaysian
weavers: the bigger variety of the family is known as the meng-
kuang, and the smaller variety is called pandan. While the big
mats and baskets for everyday use (eg. for drying or storing rice)

230
are made of mengkuang, the finer articles are made of pandan.
Traditionally, every house-hold would be able to turn out mats and
baskets for its own use as household goods and other needs. It is
something the women learn as part of their socialisation. In fact
weaving pandan and mengkuang leaves is learnt informally from
childhood. The knowledge and skill are handed down from mother
to daughter. It is only recently that such weaving has ceased to be
widespread in Malay vallages. While weaving of the pandanus is
known all over the country, only a few areas can be identified as
the centres for producing fine handiwork as in Trengganu and
Malacca. RIDA (later Majalis Amanah Rakyat or MARA) estab-
lished a pandanus weaving centre in Rusila, Trengganu, where
training was given in weaving and the trainees later became
instructors at various other centres.

Raw Materials
Raw materials are obtained from the pandanus palms that grow
wild in the vicinity of the village. These plants are almost never
cultivated: they are found in groves on the banks of the river or
further inland. Recently, when vast areas of land were put under
commercial crops like oil palm and the wild pandanus had to be
cleared, the authorities involved had replanted the pandanus in
some areas so that the leaves could still be available to those who
wanted to continue weaving mats, baskets etc. While mengkuang
or pandan leaves are generally available to the weavers, it may be
necessary to travel some distance to get the choicest leaves. Thus
in Malacca, a type of pandanus known as Pandan Minyak in regar-
ded as having the finest texture, and weavers go far into the forest
to obtain these leaves.

Technique
Pandanus leaves are cut at the base so as to gain the maximum
length and stripped of their thorny edges on the spot by means of
a sharp knife (parang). The leaves are then gathered, bundled to-
gether, and carried back to the house. If the objects to be
woven are mats or baskets, the weaver tends to use the meng-
kuang leaves, but if they are to be of finer quality, then she
would have to look for the pandan leaves. For certain objects like
the dish-cover (tudung saji) or utility baskets, other raw materials
are also needed, such as reeds, bamboo or rattan.
On reaching the house, the leaves are trimmed at the tip and
graded for length. Although the ideal would be to have leaves of

231
equal length and breadth, it would be practical to save as much of
the leaves as possible and, therefore, even the odd-sized ones are
seldom thrown away. The length required also depends on the
objects to be woven, but in actual weaving the length does not
count very much because when a strand is short it can be pleated
with another strand. The only setback is that such joints are rather
clumsy and weaken the woven fabric somewhat.
The next step is to render the leaves pliable, and this is done by
heating the leaves over an open fire. The weaver simply gathers
dry twigs and coconut husks which abound in the compound of a
Malay house and sets fire to them. Then she gathers a few leaves
and hold them over the fire in such a way that ultimately every part
of the leaves has been heated over. This process is called melayur.
The next step is to split the leaves into strips. This is called meng-
jengka. The width of the strips also depends on the article one
intends to make. The spliting is done by means of a simple tool
(jengka): a flat piece of wood with three or fur nails or sharp
edged metal embedded in it with the ends protruding out. Holding
this in one hand, the weaver splits the leaf by running the nails or
the sharp metal through the leaf. The idea is not merely to split
the leaves into strips, but also to have the strips in a standard
width. This ia an important process ~rd the metal strippers on the
wood are carefully measured so that they are set at equal intervals.
For practical purposes, the leaves are split only to a point, thus the
strips are still joined at one end. This makes the handling of the
leaves in later processes easier, especially when it comes to drying
the leaves.
It is further necessary to soften the leaves by beating them with
a stick. This is called menitik. This is a delicate process which is
also done because the beating would rid the leaves of the green
colouring faster, especially when the leaves are them immersed in
tubs of water. In Malacca, the leaves are immersed for three days
with the water being changed every day. After the leaves have
been taken out they are then dried in the sun. There is a short-cut
to the process; instead of immersing them in the water the leaves
are boiled, and than dried. In some cases, the leaves, after being
split, are put through the process of melurut, which is actually
pressing them tightly against a piece of wood held in one hand and
pulling them through with the other hand. The idea is the same as
heating them, that is to make the leaves supple. In Malacca, where
the beating is preferred, melurut is done after the leaves are dried.
The leaves are then dried out in bundles, either hung up or left on

232
the ground.

Socio-Economic Aspect
Weaving of the pandanus leaf is the occupation of women.
This is a part of the traditional division of labour in Malay eco-
nomic life. Until recently, when women were employed by
government agencies such as the Handicraft Board, weaving has
never been regarded as a full-time occupation although it may be
regarded as the primary occupation among the women-folk be-
cause the income from weaving, relative to others, is an important
contribution to the family’s income, or at least to the weaver’s pri-
vate income to be spent as she plaeases. Ordinarily, weaving of the
pandanus is, however, not regarded as a cash earning activity, for
most women learn to weave for their own household peeds, and
perhaps also for their neighbours in return for cash or in exchange
for other goods. As the women would have to attend also to their
other chores, it would take a month or two to finish a mat. In Rusila
or in Malacca, weaving mats for sale outside the weaver’s village
has been a long standing practice, but even then the women also
work on their rubber smallholdings or their rice-fields. The men do
help in some of the processes. Out of 90 adult women listed by
Rosemary Firth in her 1963 survey in Prupok, Kelantan, 28 stated
mat-making as their occupation which brought an additional in-
come, and this was the biggest number compared to other types of
occupation such as shopkeeping, dressmaking or making fishing
nets (Firth, 1966). Heather Strange in her study made in 1965/-
1966 in Rusila, Trengganu, found that out of 137 able-bodied adult
women, 112 women were engaged in weaving on a regular basis
and sold some or all of their products (Strange, 1971). Another
study made in Malacca, covering two villages, one just outside
Malacca town and the other 32 km away, revealed that weaving in
Malacca was not as extensively done as in Trengganu, but compa-
red to places outside the two states, the activity could still be
regarded as vigorous (Abdul Karim, 1971). Of the 489 households
surveyed in Bachang, just outside Malacca town, only 30 were
active in weaving but, as usual, not on a full-time basis. However,
most of the women above the age of 20 in this village knew how to
weave, but did so only very occasionally. In Kampung Baru,
almost every one of the 65 households were engaged in weaving.
Girls at the age of ten had already started to learn to weave, and at
the age of 14 and above, they were proficient and began to parti-
cipate actively in the trade. Between the two villages, it is more

233
likely that the art of weaving would be able to survive better in
Kampung Baru because the children were encouraged to take
it up.
A comparison between Rusila in Trengganu and the villages in
Malacca show that governmental aid and encouragement have
given a higher expecatation from the weavers than in places where
weaving has been merely a tradition and people have been wea-
ving for their own needs and with lower expectation of cash return.
This has a bearing on the quality of the products too. In Rusila
experimentations with designs and colours have turned out more
sophisticated results than in Malacca, even in Kampung Baru,
where the products are usually for sale. There is a greater variety
of patterns (kelerai) to be seen in the mats from Rusila than from
Kampong Baru. The weaving centre set up by the Handicraft
Board in Rusila and the setting up of shops to cater for the tourist
trade along the main road are factors which have not only encou-
raged weaving in the area but have developed the art further so
that the area is now the foremost pandanus weaving centre in the
country.
The term ‘part-time’, ‘full-time’, ‘primary’, or ‘occasional’
occupation can be misleading when applied to weaving as the
women’s occupation. Very few women make weaving their ‘full-
time’ occupation in the sense that they spend every working hour
weaving. In Rusila and in Malacca, weaving may be the ‘primary’
occupation of the womenfolk, but this merely means that it is an
occupation they take to after they have done their main economic
and household chores. Weaving is taken up if certain factors allow
for it. Thus, for example, a woman takes up weaving because it can
also be done at night, after supper and before bedtime, and if
asked, she would state meaving as her occupation. This is true in
the sense that the other chores are taken for granted. The alterna-
tive is not doing it at all, as in Rusila, where Heather Strange
found that just being a housewife and not being involved in
weaving could confer status in that the husband is a good provider
for the family (Strange, 1971).
If the earning from weaving is to be measured in terms of work-
hours, it may seem that the monetary return is not commensurate
with the time spent on it. For example. it takes about two weeks to
work on a mat, which the weaver may sell for just about $5.00
Malaysian. However, the money is considered as earned, for the
time spent otherwise would bring in nothing and the labour is not
computed.

234
 The price of a product to the ultimate purchaser may be many
times over, for the marketing process may be multi-tiered. The
marketing system of Kampung Baru for instance can be illustrated
as follows:
Weaver Peddler __ Local
Middleman shopkeeper
Middle Men in Sub
Bigger Towns Middle Men Consumer

Except for Rusila and Kampong Baru and a few other places, the
woven objects are to meet local needs. However, a household may
need an aritcle for its own use and none of its members can find
time to weave, or when the objects are needed for special occa-
sions like weddings or festivals where expert weaving would be
desired, then orders are placed with those who are known in the
village as skilled weavers. The order or tempahan is accepted, but
it will be one or two moths before the goods can be delivered. In
Sungai Baru orders are also placed by peddlers and usually an
advance is given so that weavers are encouraged to finish the
goods earlier. In Rusila the sale channels are better organised
through the Handicraft Centre or tourist shops. New products like
satchels for conferences, containers for eggs which are given to
guests at Malay weddings, and table-mats are specially ordered
through the Handicraft Centre, and the orders distributed to the
weavers willing to meet them.
Heather Strange (1971) observed certain features of the income
of three weavers over a period of one year. First, the income was
irregular from month to month. Secondly, the income was low.
Thus weaver A managed to earn M$146.20 during the period,
weaver B M$57.80 and weaver C M$90.70. In the case of weaver
A, her products were mainly ordered through the Centre, while
weaver C produced mainly fans ordered through the middlemen.
Weaver B, however, sold her products at the Centre itself. The
products ranged from new articles like handbags, table-mats and
runners and book covers to the traditional products like ordinary
prayer mats. The income was as low as $2.40 for the sale of 2 fans,
while the highest was $24.00 for the sale of 2 prayer mats.
While furniture has become standard equipment in Malay hou-
ses, even in the Ulus (upriver), nevertheless the mat is still need-
ed. While the male guests sit on the furniture in the verandah,
the women guests sit on the best mat in the inner hail of the house.

235
Of the other objects produced, the dish-cover (tudung saji) is in
demand always, especially for the fasting month where in Muslim
houses the dishes are covered with tudung saji before the azan
signals the breaking of the fast. The box containers (rombong) are
used to store clothing in homes where cupboards are a luxury. In
the olden days the rombong was used to carry the belongings when
people moved from place to place. The rombong is used also to
store baby clothes and diapers, while the small rombongis used as
a lady’s sewing bag or to keep small objects.
At the Rusila Centre, weavers coming from various parts of the
country were trained. According to Abdul Karim, the people of
Sungai Baru were not enthusiastic when one trainee returned and
opened her classes in the village (Abdul Karim, 1971). The reason
given was that she had nothing much to offer that the locals did not
already know. The present centre in Kuala Trengganu, besides
training girls in the art of weaving, also experiments with better
-

methods of processing pandanus leaves and tries to develop the

indusrty by introducing new and more attractive patterns, colour
schemes and also new objects to meet modern demand so that
wider markets can be found for the industry. But the attempt
seems to be confined to decorative articles, such as big colourful
butterflies for wall decoration, containers in the shape of fruits,
handbags, glass holders, table-mats and modern hats. The innova-
tions cater for the limited demands, however, of tourists. A faster
and more efficient way of processing the raw material and method
of weaving are also being looked into.
Brasswork.
The art of brass casting has been known to the people of South-
east Asia for centuries. The centres of brasswork in the past were
the Sultanates where the rulers and their nobility provided the
patronage. One such centre was Brunei where the art of brass cast-
ing became very elaborate as evident from the highly decorative
and well sculptured brasswares which once belonged to the Brunei
Sultanate. ~Judgingfrom the decorative motifs, like the dragon and
the serpent, it is possible that the Brunei craftsmen were influen-
ced by Chinese art motifs. Once the royal patronage was lost, the
art of elaborate casting disappeared. However, the technique still
lives on, although by 1975, only seven people who were connected
by family ties were left working on brasswork in Brunei (Lim and
Shariffuddin, 1976).
The same trend can be found in Peninsular Malaysia, and it is,only

236
in the State of Trengganu where brasswork industry seems to have
survived. In the past it was necessary for the royal courts to have
elaborate brasswares such as kettles, trays, bowls, etc. as part of the
trappings of royal status and power. Today, there is no longer the
royal patronage. The demand today mainly comes form the
traditional needs of the Malay household. The items include the
cooking pot (periuk), tray (dulang), incense burner (tempat barat),
betel-tray (tempat sirih). dispenser for scented water (bekas air
mawar), candlestand (kaki dian), spitton (ketur or tempat ludah),
circular tray (ceper) and the tray with a stand (paha). The betel-tray
is central to Malay social life just as the tea-set is to the English home.
Nowadays not many Malays in the urban areas take to betel-leaves,
but in the villages, whenever female visitors come to the house, the
betel-tray is pushed ceremoniously before them. Both the visitors as
well as the hosts will then chew the betel leaves while conversing.
The spittoon is, of course, an important item at such times. The
betel-tray and the other objects feature also in Malay ceremonies
such as bethrothal, wedding and funerary rites. Hence, a Malay
home is seldom without these brasswares.
New objects are also manufactured today. Thus flower vases,
ash-trays and some other decorative objects are part of the pro-
ducts of today’s brassware industry in Peninsular Malaysia. The
Handicraff Centre has tried to introduce objects like trophies so
that the manufacturers can find new markets as well as widen the
range of their production, but the innovation and manufacture of
new products are constrained by many factors, not least by the
techique of manufacture through the old lost-wax process.
Morgan reported that in 1950 brass and white metal work was
‘still a vigorous kampung (village) industry in Trengganu although
the technique used had remained unchanged for hundreds of
years (Morgan, 1951). By the 1970’s cooking pots and other kit-
chen utensils were no longer manufactured by many of the existing
manufacturers. In Kuala Trengganu, the industry is mainly confi-
ned to one section of the town known as Ladang. It is here th~tthe
manufacturers have their workshops, although some parts of the
process may be farmed out to workers in other parts of the town.
Thus polishing is also done by villagers in between tending to
their rice-fields and livestock. Even in Ladang, one seldom comes
across the manufacturing of kitchen utensils except for the open
brass pan (genseng), for most of the manufacturers today prefer
to make smaller items which can sell easily.

237
Technique
The lost-wax process is traditionally used not only in Malaysia
but also in other parts of the Malay Archipelago (Lim and Sharif-
fuddin, 1976). The process can be summarized as follows:
i) The first step is to make a wooden model of the object or
parts of the object. Thus a simple flower vase can be made
up of three parts: the base, the body and the top. Each part
is shaped in wood.
ii) The wooden model is then dipped in hot wax and when it
cools down the wax is removed from the wooden model.
The wax now assumes the shape of the finished product
or part of it.
iii) The wax iscovered with clay, which is available in quantity
locally, to make the mould (sarang). Three layers are
necessary to make the mould: the first is just mud, the
second with sand and finally mud mixed with rice husk,
The moulds are then dried.
iv) When they are properly dried they are fired in the furnace.
At the same time the wax in the moulds is melted and the
moulds are ready to receive the molten metal.
v) The- alloy is melted in the furnace which is worked by the
traditional bellow (musang). The metal brass, nickel
and zinc— is placed in crucible. There is no temperature
gauge, but by practice, the molten alloy is deemed ready to
be poured into the moulds when the fire gives a greenish
hue.
vi) The molten alloy is poured into the moulds with the help of
a pair of long pincers.
vii) The moulds are left to cool for some time and then they are
broken leaving the brass casting. The parts are; welded to-
gether so that the final form of the object is achieved.
viii) As the objects are still rough and jagged at the joints, they
are then polished on the lathe, a process called rnelarik
The machines for melarik are either electrically operated or
manually worked. Similarly, some manufacturers are now using
electricity to work the bellows, but most still employ the traditional
method of pumping air into the furnace which is underground.

Socio-EconomlcAspect
As in weaving, exact figures of people involved in brasswork are
difficult to obtain, but according to the Trengganu State Economic
Development Corporation, a body charged with promoting econo-

238
mic development in the State, 13,669 persons are en9aged in
various forms of cottage industries, that is, manufacturing and
processing goods such as brasswares, batik and songket cloth and
weaving of pandanus leaves for objects like mats, dish-covers,
baskets etc. The percentage of the total number working in cottage
industries is about 10 percent of the State’s total population, as
compared to 48.9 percent engaged in agriculture and 8.0 per cent
in fishing. The workers are mainly peasants who have their own
rice-fields to tend to, and have other chores to perform besides the
work they do at the work-shops. Most workers 4n cottage industries
in Trengganu are men. Available figures show 360 males and only
9 females are engaged in brasswork.
The brassware industry is localized and small-scale A list
of manufacturers is kept by the Association of Brasswere Manu-
facturers of Kuala Trengganu. There is a list kept by Batik Malay-
sia Berhad, and there is yet another list kept by the Handicraft
Centre. From these lists, there are at least 145 manufacturers in
Kuala Trengganu, mainly concentrated in the Ladang area.
A typical example of a brasswork industry as a family business
is run by Wan Ismail bin Osman. He inherited the business from
his father, and the business has now been in the family for five
generations. While Wan Ismail looks after the production, his wife
takes charge of the business. And one can sense that among his
workers too, especially the long standing ones, the attitude is that
they are working in their own family business. The workshop itself
is situated under his house, while processes like melting the alloy
and casting are done in a shed in the compound. The sitting room
of the house is used as the showroom and it is here that Wan Is-
mail’s wife transacts business with customers. He employs 20 full-
time workers, but farms out some of the work to individuals in the
villages nearby. Although the workers are supposed to be full-
time, they are not paid wages but rather by piece-rate. They have
no contract whatsoever with Wan Ismail. Even those who have
been working for years and who are regarded as skilled are still
paid by piece-rate.
This arrangement seems to suit both sides, although less to the
manufacturer. As stated above, the workers also work on their
padi fields. When the time comes to transplant the seedlings from
the nurseries to the field or to harvest the crop, the workers simply
stop work at the workshop. During festivals, none of the workers
would turn up for work Even during the harvest festival (main
pantai), the least important of festivals in Malay life, the workers

239
would stop work for one week. There is little that Wan Ismail can
do, even if such stoppage may cost him a great deal. The family-
like relationship has to be maintained for the workers are neigh-
bours and kinsmen, some though only very remotely related.
Apprenticeship takes about two to three years, but training is on
the job. It takes about one month to learn the rudiments of the job.
The workers usually start when they leave primary school, at about
12 to 13 years old. The income of the worker varies with the type of
work done and also the number of pieces he can finish in one day.
Thus the man who looks after the furnace, melting the brass alloy
and pouring it into the moulds, is paid $1.00 Malaysian for every
completed process. He can complete the process more than 15
times a day. The man who makes the wax-casts is paid $6.00 for
100 pieces, and he can finish about 150 a day, thus earning about
M$9.00 a day. However, the actual amount earned varies with the
complexity or intricacy of the work involved; the more intricate the
cast, the higher is the payment for each piece. There is no pension
scheme for the workers, and it is doubtful if the workers or emplo-
yers contribute towards the Provident Fund Scheme, the social
security organization run by the Malaysian Government.

Raw Materials
Today, the brassware cottage industry has to depend on the
quasi-governmental agency, Batik Malaysia Berhad, (BMB), for
its raw materials. There is definitely a scarcity in the supply of
brass in the country at the moment. The supply used to be obtai-
ned from the Chinese traders who imported the metal from Singa-
pore, 2 but the metal is so scarce today that the BMB obtained the
metal from spent cartridges from the Ministry of Defence. So
dependent are the manufacturers pn BMB that when supply is
scarce, the BMB has to distribute raw material to the manufac-
turers on its list in amounts proportionate to the production capa-
city of the workshops. Without governmental help, the brass
industry is in danger of disappearing for the reason that raw mate-
rial is difficult to come by on the free market. The higher quality
wares today are in the proportion of 1 part brass, 1 nickel and
¼zinc, and the lower quality 4 parts brass, 1 part nickel and
¼zinc. The higher the nickel content the higher is the quality of
the finished product.

The Market.
The market for brassware products is mainly local. According to

240
Wan Ismail, the trade from foreign tourists accounts for not more
than 5 per cent of the market. However, the local demand is such
that it is sometimes difficult for the manufacturers to meet the
orders. The products are usually channelled through middlemen
who in turn supply the retailers throughout the country. However,
manufacturers also deal directly with buyers who come to their
workshops. Wan Ismail’s workshop, for example, is on the
itinerary of foreign tourists who visit Kuala Trengganu, but
Wan Ismail does not personally favour having foreign tourists
visit his workshop. According to him they purchase little and worse
for him, they do not take off their shoes when they come into the
house.~

As with the other manufacturers it was difficult to get from Wan

Ismail the exact turnover of his husiness. The total wages of the
workers with various skill and experience would come to M$900.00
a week, while the purchase of raw materials would be at an aver-
age of M$4,000.00 a month. Wan Ismail is considered as one of the
bigger manufacturers of brasswares in Kuala Trengganu, and
therefore the figures that he gave were not necessarily typical.
Other manufacturers work with much less capital and turnover.
The brassware industry is a cottage industry which has the cha-
racteristics of the ‘putting out or dispersed factory system’ (Staley
and Morse, 1965). Aside from hired workers who work in the work-
shop, it has been mentioned that part of the work in the workshop,
is dispersed among smaller units in the neighbourhood.
The technique employed is traditional, except for the use
of electricity which is in fact an extension of the household
supply. In spite of the encouragement given by the Handicraft
Centre in Kuala Trengganu, the manufacturers are not very keen
to improve their production either in quality or in diversifying
their products. The manufacturing of brassware therefore remains
not only traditional in technique but traditional in business
approach as well. In fact Wan Ismail is rather apprehensive of the
future in that the manufacturing of brasswares could pass into
the hands of Chinese entrepreneurs who will then build factories
and run the business as a modern industry.
The nett profit for the manufacturers is not much, and in fact
many manufacturers do not get much more than their workers.
According to Wan Ismail a manufacturer may get M$150.00 a
month nett profit, and not many of the 145 manufacturer can get
over M$300.00 nett profit a month. Some of the hired workers who
are paid by piece-rate can even get more. A father and son team of

241
Kampung Gong Tok Nasib who do the grinding and polishing
(mengindik) for Wan Ismail earned $26.00 for 100 pieces of small
items and $37.000 for 100 pieces of bigger ones. They have
two lathes, the father working on the traditional lathe worked
by foot and the son working on an electrically poviered machine.
The traditional machine cost them only $40.00 as capital
outlay and the electric one $250.00. On the traditional machine
the father can polish about 30 pieces a day while the son on
the electric one 50 pieces a day. According to Wan Ismail it is better
to have the electric powered machine because the rate of absen-
teeism of those on the electric machine has been much less than of
those on traditional machines. Working on the foot-powered lathe
may also adversely affect the workers’ health in the long run.
Although the industrial rate for electricity consumption is lower than
the household supply, most manufacturers or those who work at
home would not like to install a separate meter for the capital outlay
is high and the bureaucratic pathways to get one installed are simply
too complicated.

Traditional Pottery
Evidences of pottery have been dated to the Neolithic period in
the Malay Peninsula (Winstedt, 1962). Good quality pottery, how-
ever, seems to have been mostly imported, especially from China,
for at least a thousand years. Porcelain and ceramics have been
excavated from many archaeological sites and big earthenware
jars have penetrated far upriver into the heart of Borneo and have
become prize possessions, both in the present as well as the next
world, of the Ibans, Kenyahs, Kayans, Muruts and other peoples
of Borneo. Local pottery as a technology has not made much
advancement over the centuries although just to the north, in Thai-
land, archeologists have recently come out with convincing find-
ings that not only was pottery a very ancient technology in
Southeast Asia but a highly developed one too.
Pottery is still made by Malays using rather simple technology,
for example, in villages along the Perak River. A few decades ago,
the industry was more widespread. At Kuala Tembeling, Pahang,
for instance, there was a ‘piece bearing stamps of superior decora-
tive quality and in Malacca were produced ‘water-jars coloured a
dull brownish black and stamped deep to look like florid wood car-
ving’ (Winstedt, 1962). Other places known to have produced pot-
tery included Province Wellesley, Johore, Alor Merah in Kedah
and Kuala Pilah in Negeri Sembilan (Singapore Art Society, 1951).

242
Wray, then the curator of Perak Museum, wrote a paper on pottery
in Perak (Wray, 1903). According to him the art must have arisen
from great antiquity because the potters never used the potter’s
wheel. Even then in Perak, only certain areas could boast of pot-
tery, in Lenggong in Upper Perak, Sayong in Kuala Kangsar, the
seat of the Perak Sultanate, and in Pulau Tiga in Lower Perak, but
today, it is only in Sayong and Pulau Tiga that the art has survived
to some extent.
On the banks of the Perak River, about five kilometers from the
town of Kuala Kangsar, and about eight kilometer from Sayong,
the Handicraft Board has set up a pottery centre run on the same
lines as the handicraft centres already mentioned in this paper.
The centre is equipped with the most up-to-date equipment for
pottery from the electric kiln to various types of the potter’s wheel.
And the trainees who are paid daily allowances are children of the
traditional potters around the area. The idea, as in the other cent-
res, is to develop the talent and interest already there so that pot-
tery in the area can be transformed from a traditional industry
using traditional techniques to a modern one. Thus, the Handicraft
Board envisages that by the time the youngsters take over from
their elders, there will be a change in the cottage pottery industry
in Sayong. The products will no longer be the simple black vessel
called labu (gourd) or the earthenwere cooking pot, but rather
more sophisticated pieces of pottery with surrealistic designs and
colour patterns. It follows that the social and economic environ-
ment in which the traditional technology exists will have to change
to accomodate the new potters. While the traditional potters are
part of the present pattern of vallage life, their children who are
graduates of the pottery centre would not be satisfied with the
same kind of economic and social environment.

Raw Materials
In 1903, the clay that the potters of Sayong used for their trade
was obtained from Temong, further up the river. The clay, packed
in small mat bags, was brought down the river by boat and sold to
the potters. Today the raw material is obtained locally. However,
the potters are still guided by tradition with regard the their con-
cept of good clay. For example, the potters in Sayong prefer the
clay from ant-hills because it is supposed to be ‘sticky’ (bergetah),
although the manager of the Handigraft Centre, who is a ceramic
graduate of the MARA Institute of Technology, thinks that other
types of clay found in the vicinity are equally good, the difference

243
being in the way the raw material is prepared.

Technique
The technique used by the potters in the village of Kepala Ben-
dang in Sayong is still the same to a large extent as that described
by Wray. The clay is first dried and then pounded into a fine pow-
der in a pounder, either the common rice-pounder worked by hand
or the tilt-hammer type worked by foot. The clay is then sieved for
impurities. After that it is mixed with water to form a stiff clay and
kneaded like dough from time to tome to get rid of air bubbles. The
day is now ready for use.
The potters of Sayong do not use the potter’s wheel. They use an
earthenware or tin plate on which they shape the clay. The techni-
que used is coiling and pinching. What th potter does is to build
up the clay by coils and as each coil is added, it is pinched until it
is welded to the part already shaped. The process is repeated,
but at the same time the potter shapes the clay into the form
desired. The traditional form is the gourd with a bulbous body, a
neck which is slightly bulbous in shape too, and a flaring mouth.
The nearest that the potters had come to using the potter’s wheel
is the contraption described by Wray, but it is no longer in use
today. There is little use of decorations on the products except for
incisions made on the body of the articles in the form of simple
designs. The finished products are kept aside until t~iereare
enough for firing. However, the firing is also done on a collective
basis: the products of two or three potters are brought together for
firing. -

While the Handicraft Centre is equipped with a modern kiln, the

traditional method is simple. First of all, a small pit is dug in the
ground. Then a scaffolding is built over the fire pit strong enough
to support the finished pieces which are stacked on it. A small fire
is then lighted for the idea is to heat the pieces before firing them.
If they are fired straightaway, the chances are that they will crack.
It takes about there to four hours to heat the pieces over the fire
which is kept low all the time. In order to keep the heat in, the
articles are sometimes covered with matting materials.
After the heating has been done, the pieces are brought down
and the scaffolding dismantled. The pit is then lined with dried
bamboo. It is interesting to note that wood is not used to fire the
pottery. The pieces are arranged carefully over the bamboo, in a
way that they do not roll over or move while firing is done. The
bigger pieces are stacked in the middle and the smaller ones on the

244
fringe or in between. Then split bamboo is again arranged and
piled on the pieces. The reason why bamboo is used rather than
wood is because split bamboo is light and when burnt only the
ashes are left behind. The firing lasts about one or two hours, and
when the bamboo is all burnt up, the pottery pieces are left smoul-
dering in the pit. Without waiting for the objects to cool, the pieces
are picked up by means of a long pole and placed to one side. If the
piece is to have a dark hue, then it is straightaway smothered in a
heap of padi husk. By tradition, the water vessel in the shape of
the gourd (labu) is always blackened. Those which are not to be
blackened are not treated in the same way. They are picked out of
the pit all the same and placed aside. While the pieces are still hot,
damar or resin is rubbed on the bottom. This is said to render the
pottery water-proof.

Socio-Economic Aspect
The labu is the traditional product of Sayong pottery and is used
to store water for drinking. As it is cool, it may be clutched to one’s
body during the hot spells or to bring down one’s temperature
during illness. Other articles are also made, like flower vases,
cooking utensils, incense burners and even ash-trays. Although
articles like ash-trays or flower vases are attempts at introducing
new products, it is still the traditional labu and pots which are the
mainstay of the industry.
Compared with the two cottage industries described earlier, pot-
tery is definitely on the wane. The traditional demand for the labu
and pots is still there but rather limited now. One of the uses of a
water vessel (buyong) which has survived till today is to hold water
in shamanic ritual connected with the propitiation of the spirits. It
is significant to note that Wray had predicted an early demise of
pottery in Sayong for even then there were only about ten houses
involved in the industry, and the younger women did not seem to
be interested in the art~a fact which was much deplored by the
older generation.
The potters are mainly women. The people of Kepala Bendang
in Sayong, for example, rely on their padi-fields and rubber small-
holdings for their living. Thus pottery, like pandanus weaving, is
regarded as an occupation which brings in an extra income. How-
ever, according to an informant, Cik Hasnah, the earnings from
her pottery had helped to bring up her children. The men usually
assist by bringing in clay, drying it or pounding it, but the coiling
and pinching and firing are done by women. Among the trainees at

245
the centre in Kuala Kangsar are a few boys who are paid a daily
allowance, which may form an important source of income for their
families.
The income from pottery for the potters in Sayong is not much
more than that of the pandanus weavers in Trengganu or Malacca.
But sometimes the satisfaction comes from one or two sales that
the potters make at handicraft shows. Cik Hasnah, for example,
thought that the emotional satisfaction she experienced when her
pottery wares were cleared out in a short time at exhibitions in
Kuala Lumpur or Genting Highlands was worth much more than
the monetary return she actually realized. Wray’s prediction on
the extinction of pottery in Sayong has not materialized. In fact
there is interest in traditional pottery from certain quarters. For
example, local tqurists would ask for the labu rather .than the
modern pieces sold at the Handicraft Centre. However, the fear for
the extinction of the traditional industry is felt today not because
of the competition from the Handicraft Centre but rather the fact
that the children of the potters are now trained in new techniques
to produce modern pottery. If there is still a demand in ten or
twenty years’ time for the traditional pieces, at least for customary
or magical uses, there will not be the people to make them.
The marketing system has remained unchanged, and it is simi-
lar to the other cottage industries in Malaysia. The products are
channelled through the middle-men who in some cases have paid
part of the costs in advance. According to Cik Hasnah, the normal
sized labu fetches about M$1.00 when collected at the village by
the middlemen, but it is sold for $2.00 to $2.50 in the market place.
The products are usually carried down the river by boat and scald at
the roadside in Telok Anson and other towns along the Perak
River. As a comparison the prices of modern pieces sold at the
Handicraft Centre range from $4.00 for a small piece to $50 to $60
for bigger or more intricate ones. Obviously, the values attached to
the two different types of pottery are quite different. While tradi-
tional pottery has either utilitarian value, including ritualistic value as
stated above, or intrinsic value for the decoration of urban homes,
modem pottery has mainly aesthetic value attached to it although
one may argue that utilitarian value is also present as in the ash-tray
or flower vase.

Characteristics of Traditional Technology

From the above discussion, some characteristics of traditional
technology can be observed. In the first place1 human energy

246
seems to be the primary source of power used to work the simple
machines and tools. Domesticated animals are another source of
energy to work the contraptions like the plough or grinder, while
water or wind is harnessed to work the wheels and gears in tradi-
tional mills.
Raw materials used in the production of goods are usually avai-
lable in the locality, although in some cases they have to be impor-
ted. The latter points to the fact that some cottage industries have
been part of the commercial traffic even in the past. In the case of
songket, batik and brasswork, manufacturers are so dependent on
imported raw materials that if the government agencies had not
helped, the production would have stopped.
Another feature is that learning of the craft is not by formal
instruction but rather by means of apprenticeship or indirect lear-
ning. It is only natural for a girl to pick up the art of weaving,
either of cloth or mat, as part of her growing up process, or a boy to
handle the plough or the fishing net. The technological know-how
to be learnt and absorbed thus becomes part of the total fabric of
life. The concept of being specialized in one particular skill or trade
has little application in traditional technology.
In the case of cottage industries in Malaysia, the manpower
involved in traditional technology is rural and localized. The people
involved are also engaged in other economic occupations. In fact,
traditional technology is ancillary to the main economic activities:
besides working on the handicraft, they have also to attend to their
primary activities like tending their rice-fields or rubber small-
holdings, doing household chores or helping out in their family’s
or, in the case of women, their husbands’ economic occupation. The
workers are also localized; most of them work at home or in the
vicinity of their own homes. While skilled workers are a little more
mobile in the sense that their expertise might bring them further
away from home for more attractive returns, most of those invol-
ved in traditional technology tend to work in or around their
places of residence. Hence, the ‘dispersed factory’ or ‘putting-out’
system fits into this pattern. The workers will stay put while the
owner or the manager of an establishement distributes materials
to be produced among different small work-places or production
units, either to work part of the process or the whole process, and
he pays the workers by piece-rate. -

Another characteristic of the human resource connected with

traditional technology in Malaysia, and also in most countries, is
the involvement of a large number of women. In the manufacture

247
of household articles or even for use in economic activities like
fishing nets or fishing traps, the women vie with men in expertise.
But weaving, either the songket or the pandanus leaves, is the
women’s enclave. Pottery in Sayong is also the speciality of
women. Besides the fact that they are engaged in these activities
to fill in the time between doing their main household and econo-
mic chores, they also do it for economic reasons to help out in the
family expenditure. The other industries are mainly carried out by
men, like brassware, silverware or batik. But women, also parti-
cipate. Thus in the batik industry, the major processes are done by
men as full-time workers, while the minor processes are done by
women who are usually employed as casual workers.4
Another aspect of manpower is the level of education. It is
observed that the level of education of most of those involved in
traditional technology is low. Fisk, for instance, found that 3,170 or
96 percent of the weavers in the handboom industry in Trengganu
were illiterate, 60 or 2 percent could read the Jawi script only and
110 or 3 percent who could read and write Jawi and romanized
script (Fisk, 1962). However, the level of education is more related
to the general availability of education, and since educational faci-
lities have improved in Malaysia since the time of Fisk’s report,
one can expect a higher level of education among those engaged
in traditional technology. In Rusila, Heather Strange (1971) repor-
ted that 49 percent of the young children attended secondary
school (mostly Arabic-medium), while most girls stopped after pri-
mary education. The boys involved in the brassware industry in
Kuala Trengganu are usually those who have stopped schooling at
primary level.
The manufacturing of goods by means of traditional technology
actually meets a limited demand, which Is usually local. In the case
of Malaysia, cottage industries producing brass and silverware9,
pottery, mats and baskets have survived because the needs for
such goods are still dictated by the customs and folkways and also
by the pattern of traditional economic activities like rice cultivation
or fishing. Now there are also new demands created mainly from
tourism. Of the cottage industries h~Malaysia, only the batik
industry has achieved a state where the market is widespread in
the country, and in some instances it has even secured an export
market.
Working conditions surrounding traditional technology do not
impose demands which can upset the pattern of life for they blend
very well with tne rhythm of life where the main economic activi-

248
ties are agricultural and fishing. It does not normally interfere with
the familial and other social obligations of everyday life such as
births and deaths, weddings, festivals and religious observances.
Industries which employ traditional technology do not seem to
have a highly organised set-up. One of the reasons why modern
factories find it difficult to deal with workers from rural areas is
that the workers are prone to take leave to meet their familial and
social obligations.
On the economic side, traditional technology is consistent with
the economic factors which prevail in rural life: limited capital,
cheap labour costs, low profitmotivation, unsophisticated con-
sumer demand and lack of technological know-how. The economic
extension of traditional technology to the urban market is small
and limited, mainly in the form of tourist trade for handicraft, cul-
tural demands as in the case of songket and brass work and the
appeal of the batik as clothing material.
Another characteristic of traditional technology is that although
a particular industry tends to be clustered in one particular area,
partly due to economic reasons and partly to tradition, it may be
dispersed in terms of the production unit. A whole village may be
made up of little workshops situated underneath the house just as
Detlev Karsten has said, ‘the traditional crafts -are typically, car-
ried out in ideal decentralisation,’ unlike the modern factory where
there is a centralisation in production organisation (Karsten,
1972). A greater number of people therefore are involved in rela-
tion to production when compared to a modern factory, a fact
which induces Karsten to describe handicraft production as
‘labour intensive technology’ as opposed to ‘capital intensive
technology’ of the highly developed countries.

APlace For Traditional Technology

The future of traditional technology in Malaysia would depend
on a number of factors, but Government policy on it would be the
most important Cottage industries have always been associated
with rural Malay economy and as such they were given due
attention when the government of the day established RIDA.
When RIDA was reorganised in 1968 into another organisation
called Majlis Amanah Rakyat or MARA, cottage industries were
later put under a board which was established in 1973, the Handi-
craft Board of Malaysia. The Board has as its objectives (Lembaga
Kraftangan Malaysia, 1977):

249
 i) to develop local handicraft by introducing innovations in
techniques and methods of production;
ii) to oversee and control the standard of local handicraft pro-
duction so that the high standard of Malaysian handicraft can
be maintained;
iii) to step up the marketing of local handicraft, locally or
abroad; and
iv) to encourage those who are under-employed to take up a
handicraft industry as a source of income.
To implement the above policy, the Board has set up five centres
and intends to set up a few more during the Third Malaysia Plan.
The five centres were established in areas where there had already
been a traditional industry. Exceptions are the centres for wood-
work and rattan in Temerloh, Pahang, and rattan and bamboo
work in Kuala Pilah, Negeri Sembilan. Thus a centre was establi-
shed in Kota Bharu for silverwork, ironwork and batik in an area
traditionally engaged in these crafts: in Kuala Trengganu for
brasswork, batik, handloom industry and pandanus weaving, also
an area well-known in these industries and in Kuala Kangsar.
Perak for pottery where there has been since the turn of the cen-
tury and perhaps even long before that a tradition of pottery
making. The centres in Temerloh, Pahang and Kuala Pilah, Negeri
Sembilan, do not deal so much with traditional industries but rat-
her with experimentation in using local materials for new crafts. In
the other three centres, the rationale was not so much to conserve
traditional craft, but to ‘stimulate and rehabilitate traditional skill
and craftsmanship’. These centres undertake research not only in
the techniques, methods and processing of raw materials, b~talso
in the marketing of the products especially with the idea of expor-
ting the handicraft abroad. The centres first of all provide advisory
service. However, in order to carry out its work, the centres also
have training programmes and carry out production of the articles
so as to provide designs or models for the local artisans as well as
entrepreneurs, especially with the view of improving their
products.
The centres also serve as facility centres especially with regard
to providing help in acquiring raw materials, and giving advice as
to the qualitiy of raw materials such as dyes and other chemicals.
Thus, Batik Malaysia Berhad undertakes to supply brasswork manu-
facturers with the metal. It is also envisaged that the centres would
provide facilities such as the use of special machines so that the
craftsmen could perform certain processes more efficiently.

250
 In spite of the objectives stated above, it can be seen that the
philosophy behind the whole exercise is to retain the use of tradi-
tional technology and also to introduce certain modifications both
in technique as well as in business management so that industries
can realize a higher income for those involved. If there is any plan
to convert cottage industries into a small scale factory system, it is
not very clearly enunciated. The idea, it seems, is to encourage
craftsmen and manufacturers to stay where they are, and with
governmental aid, they can raise their income level through doing
the same thing, but better. This would also entail a transformation
of technique as in the idea of training the children of the present-
day Sayong potters in modern techniques of production.
One needs to distinguish those techniques and methods which
are conducive to improvement from those which by their very
nature would not lend themselves to improvement. Technology as
used in the handboom industry, batik, brass and other metalwork
or pottery may still mean traditional techniques but some of the
processes can be improved by the use of new methods of proces-
sing or electricity and other froms of power. The best example
would be brasswork and pottery. In the case of brasswork, new
methods of casting can be introduced and electric power can be of
great help in working the bellows and lathe. In the case of pottery,
the introduction of the potter’s wheel, a better technique of prepa-
ring the clay and more scientific methods of firing would increase
the output and improve the products. These new techniques would
bring about a transformation in the industry and in the type of pro-
ducts, and therefore the traditional artistic value would be lost,
and new artistic values introduced. In the case of brasswork, it is
the finished product that counts rather than the technique, for the
consumers would only be needing incense burners, betel-trays and
other traditional articles for their own use without asking how they
were made.
Those industries which are not easily adaptable to the use of
machines are those like pandanus weaving or bamboowork.5 In the
case of pandanus weaving, the use of better dyes may be intro-
duced, but for the processing of the raw materials and the weaving
itself, it is doubtful if machines can do the work better. In the case
of bamboocraft or woodwork, the products are mainly for home
consumption and as such it would not be economically viable to
introduce modern machinery for the purpose. Usually the intro-
duction of new products like trophies and table-decorations for
brassware, for instance, has to be accompanied by better proces-

251
sing methods, and this would mean a better selection of raw mate-
rials, use of more efficient machine and an increase in the capital
outlay. Where, however, a more efficient method of production
cannot be introduced, the centres try to improve the products by
enhancing their artistic quality, or by introducing new designs and
patterns.
In the introduction of machines, lack of capital and the unwil-
lingness to expand the enterprise seem to be the constraints. The
government throught its agency, MARA has provided credit facili-
ties as part of the general rural development programme, and in
fact such facilities are being made use of by the~manufacturers. A
30 percent sampling of the batik industry in Kelantan in 1976
showed that 94.1 percent of the respondents had plans to expend
their industry, but only 14.7 percent of them had concrete plan to
do so in 1976, while the rest had no definite plans (Malaysia Centre
for Development Studies, unpublished reports, 1976). About two-
thirds (69.3 percent) had the bank in mind as the source of the
loan, and one third (30.7 percent), other sources. In fact the main
problem is capital: 16.6 percent said that they had no problem in
respect of additional capital, 24.4 percent indicated that it was
difficqlt to raise loans, 6.8 percent said they had collateral for the
loans, and 53.3 percent that they lacked capital to expand their
enterprises.
The lesson from traditional crafts is in fact extended to new
crafts. The raw materials which abound in the country have tradi-
tionally been used to manufacture objects for everyday needs and
family consumption. Through these centres, it is planned that new
handicraft can be introduced. The local furniture industry can take
the form of a small-scale factory system in the rural areas employ-
ing full-time craftsmen for wages, or the bamboocraft can follow
the example of the pandanus weaving industry where it is done on
part-time basis to supplement the family income. Hence the Han-
dicraft Board has no single approach towards traditional techno-
logy in its endeavours to raise the income of those involved in it. In
fact it has to have a multidimensional approach and entertain a
wider scope, for the question is not merely to put traditional
technology to a more productive use but to relate it to the total
problem of socio-economic development of the poorer segment of
the country’s population. However, the survival of traditional
technology in Malaysia today, and for some time to come, is based
on two major factors: the cultural (including aesthetic, customary
and even ritual) demand for its products will continue and the fact

252
that the industrialisation programme of the country seems to con-
centrate more on the establishment of new factories and has given
little or no attention to the possibility of transforming the existing
traditional technology system to serve a modern system where
village cottage industries become rural small-scale factories to manu-
facture new goods, generating employment and development in the
process.

Notes
1. According to Baharil lnsan bin Hashim in his graduation exercise. RIDA TO
MARA (Faculty of Economics, University of Malaya. 1969). ‘During the pre-
independence and immediately during the post-independence - -- the functions
of RIDA were mainly in constructing the infrastructure and concentrating in
native industries such as mengkuang weaving. belacan manufacturing.
silverwares and other handicraft. Post-independence leaders had more interest
in industrialisation and turning RIDA to a more commercial establishment’
(p.54) - It was to give a bigger scope in dealing with the problem of uplifting
rural ~alay economy that MARA was subsequently formed to replace RIDA.
2. According to Wan Ismail, as far back as he can ascertain, the supply of brass
and other metals had always come from the local Chinese merchants.
3. It is a Malay custom that one takes off one’s footwear on entering a house.
4. Figures given by Nik Abdul Rashid for June 1968:
Full-time Part time
Men Women Men Women
Kelantan 1.250 816 1.504
Trengganu 385 — 615 100
5. The bamboowork referred to here is the traditional one, not the modern
bamboowork being experimented with by the Handicraft Centres in Temerloh
and Kuala Pilah.

BIBLIOGRAPHY
Abdul Kanm Ismail (1971), Perusahaan Mengkuang: Kajian Di Duo Buah Tempat
Di Negara Melaka (Mengkuang Industry: A Study at Two Locations in Malacca),
(Unpublished Graduation Exercise, Department of Malay Studies, University
of Malaya, Kuala Lumpur).
Baharil Insan bin Hashim (1969). RIDA to MARA (Unpublished Graduation
Exercise, Faculty of Economics. University of Malaya, Kuala Lumpur) -
Firth, Rosemary (1966), Housekeeping Among Malay Peasants (London).
Fisk, E.K. (1962), “The Economics of the Handloom Industry of the East of Malaya,
“Journal of the Malayan Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, Vol. XX)UIM, Pt. 4. pp.
1—72.

253
Gullick. J.M (1952), ‘A Survey of the Malay Weavers and Silvermiths in Kelantan in
1951’. Journal of the Malayan Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society. Vol. XXV, Pt. 1.
pp. 134—148.
Hill. A. H. (1949), ‘The Weaving Industry in Trengganu’. Journal of the Maiayan
Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society. Vol. XXII. Pt. 3, pp. 75 84.
Hoselitz. Bert F. (1968). The Role of Small Industry (The Hague — Paris).
Karsten, Detlev (1972, The Economics of Handicrafts in Traditional Societies
(Munchen).
Knight. Melvin M. (1932), ‘Handicraft’, in (ed.) Ed~n R.A. Seligman. Encyclo-
paedia of the Social Science (New York), Vol. VII, pp. 255 — 260.
Lembaga Kraftangan Malaysia (1977). Anggaran 1977 (Handicraft Board of
Malaysia: Estimates for 1977). (Kuala Lumpur. unpublished).
Lim. J.S. and Shariffud~n.P.M. (1976). ‘Brunei Brass: The Traditional Method
of Casting.’ The Brunei Museum Journal Vol. Ill, No. 4.
Malaysian Centre for Development Studies (1976). Unpublished Reports.
Morgan. G.T.M. de M. (1951). ‘Brass and White-Metal Work in Trengganu’. Journal
of the Malayan Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society. Vol. XXIV. Pt. 3.
pp. 114— 119.
Nik Abdul Rashid bin lsmai-l (1969). Perusahaan Batik dan Kajian Aspek-aspek
Pemasarannya (Batik Industry and Its Marketing Aspects). (Unpublished
Graduation Exercise, Faculty of Economics. University of Malaya. Kuala
Lumpur) -
Shetty. M.C. (1963). Small-scale and Household Industries in a Developing
Economy: A Study of Their Rationale. Structure and Operative Conditions
(Bombay. Calcutta. etc.).
Singapore Art Society (1951). A Definitive Exhibition of Malay Arts and Crafts
(British Council Centre. Singapore).
Staley. E. And Morse. R (1965). Modern Small Industry in Developing Countries
(New York).
Strange. Heather (1971). The Weaver of Rusila: Working Women in a Malay
Village (Unpublished Ph.D. thesis. University of New York).
Winstedt. R.O. (1962). The Malays: A Cultural History (London).
Wray. L. (1903). ‘The Malayan Pottery of Perak’. The Journal of the Anthropological
Institute of Great Britain and Ireland. Vol. XXXIII. pp. 24—25.

254
16
RELIGION AND BUREAUCRACY: THE
DEVELOPMENT AND OF~GANISATION OF
ISLAMIC RELIGIOUS ADMINISTRATION
IN PENINSULA MALAYSIA

The development of religious administration after the advent of

British rule or protectorate can generally be divided into two
periods. The earlier period before 1948 is not so well-defined.
Enactments and ordinances pertaining to marriage and divorce, or
the appointment of religious officials were promulgated by the Sta-
te Councils at various times, but the administration on other mat-
ters was not very clear. Matters pertaining to religion were in
theory under the direct purview of the Sultan, and it has been the
general pattern that the ruling houses in each state keep close
supervision on religious affairs. It is often that we find members of
the ruling house holding responsible posts in the religious affairs
department.
The details of religious administration in the Malay states before
1949 differed from state to state. However, the most significant
was that of Kelantan. As early as 1915, Kelantan established an
independent non-governmental body called the Council for Reli-
~ious Affairs to advise the Sultan on matters relating to religion.
Right at its inception, it was envisaged to function as a corporate
body with funds of its own and to participate in business ventures
in maintaining its activities. The revenue was mainly from the
zakat and fitrah collected from the Muslim population of the state.

255
The objectives of the Council were not only confined to religious
activities such as the building and maintenance of mosques, the
propagation of Islamic teachings, publication and translation of
religious works and looking after the poor and destitute, but also to
foster education both in Malay and English. In fact, the earliest
education in English in the state was conducted by the Majlis. The
Majlis ran a school in English and Malay on its premises, besides
religious classes. Many a leading public figure today in Kelantan
had his early education in the classes run by the Council.
Scholarships which enabled students to study abroad were also
awarded by the Majils. While the Council funtioned as an inde-
pendent corporate body, the office of the kadi and syanah courts
still formed part of the government administration. It is significant
that it was the Kelantan religious administration which became the
model for the structure of administration of religious affairs in the
other states after 1948.
In the case of Penang and Malacca, there were no religious
affairs departments when the two states were British Straits Sett-
lements. The kadis were the main officials involved in the adminis-
tration of Islamic law, especially with regard to matters pertaining
to marriage and divorce. However the powers of the Kadi in Ma-
lacca and Penang were really limited: in most instances like dispu-
tes over inheritance of property, the kadi could only advise for his
decision was not enforceable. In Malacca, the kadis were even
registered under the Society’s (or Associations) Ordinance. In the
case of the two former Straits Settlements, the change did not
come until after 1957, when the country achieved its independence
as the Federation of Malaya.
As has been said above, the main structure of religious adminis-
tration today is somewhat based on the Kelantan model. On the
one hand there is the Council of Religious Affairs which is set up to
advise the Sultan on matters relating to religion, and on the other
there is the Department of Religious Affairs which is a department
coming within the state administrative machinery. The President
of the Council, who is usually appointed by the Sultan, is also the
Head of Department, while the Secretary, who may be a state civil
servant serves both. Usually, the syariah court, matters relating to
teligious education especially in government schools, registration
of marriages and divorces belong to the Department. while mat-
ters concerning fatwa (rulings on religious problems). propa-
gation of religious teachings, religious education in private
schools, the collection of zakatdand fitrah. and the administration of

256
endowed properties (wakaf) are usually assigned to the Majlis. Al-
though it appears that the Council is a policy-making body whose
members are appointed by the Sultan and are not employees of the
government except for the President, the Secretary and the ex-
officio members like the Multi (or the Kadis and Imans who may
be appointed by the Sultan for one reason or another) and the
Department as the executive branch, it does not actually in prac-
tice conform to such arrangement. While the closest relationship
and cooperation are maintained, especially as the President and
the Secretary of the Council are also the Head and Secretary for
the Department, the Council and the Department maintain diffe-
rent staff and offices.
Although this can be said to be the basic model, there are cer-
tain differences from one state to another. Kelantan, whose struc-
ture it was said to be the basic model for the other states, has six
separate government departments running various religious mat-
ters, from the syariah courts to the department for the prevention
of immorality (pencegahan maksiat). The Council, on the other
hand is a corporate body with its own funds, accrued not only from
the collection of zakat and fitrah, but also from business invest-
ments in properties. It has a staff of its own and is divided into
departments : the collection of zakat and fitrah, the supervision of
mosques and mosque officials, the trustee for endowed properties
and properties left by dead Muslims ~Mthout inheritors, the publi-
cation of religious works, and the supervision of private religious
schools. Kedah and Perlis, for instance, has the zakat collected by
a committee directly responsible to the State Secretary. The main
reason for this appears to be the fact both these states are exten-
sive rice areas, and income from the zakat is really considerable.
However, most of the revenue is used for matters relating to reli-
gious activities, including scholarships. While in the Malay states,
the Sultans are the Heads of Religion, in Malacca and Penang it is
the Yang di-Pertuan Agung, and not the Governor of the states. So
the appointments of the members of the Council of Religious Af-
fairs in these two states comes from the King. In Perak, as another
instance, the membership of the Council is based on the represen-
tation of five categories conceived of the Muslim pøpulation in the
state : the rajas or nobility, the chiefs or noblemen, the religious
scholars or ulama, the common people and the non-Malay Mus-
lims. There are many other differences in the actual organisation,
and this is matched by the discrepencies in the religious law and
enactments in all the states.

257
 It is because of this fact that moves were made in 1969 to estab-
lish a council for religious affairs at the national level in order to
coordinate and streamline the religious administration for the
whole of the country. However, because of the very nature of the
constitution, born out of a historial past peculiar to its own, the
problem was not as straightfotward as one would think Matters
of religion and Malay customs had always been left, in theory at
least, to the Sultans of the Malay States during British colonial rule
and this was continued after independence. The Council of Rulers
(Majlis Raja-Raja) was the only body which had the power to touch
on religious matters which concern the country as a whole. In 1968,
however, the Council of Rulers at its meeting on 17th. October,
agreed to the establishment of a National Council of Religious Af-
fairs for Peninsular Malaysia. However, the function of the Council
appears to be limited to giving advice to the Council of Rulers, the
State governments on the state religious affairs councils on mat-
ters of Islamic law, administration, eduation and with the ultimate
aim of encouraging and achieving uniformity in all the states. Even
with such a limited function, Kedah and Pahang did not send any
representative to sit on the Council when members of the Council
were announced. Thus, although the intention was to coordinate
matters relating to religious ordinances and other aspects of admi-
nistration, the constitutional rights of the component states in rela-
tion to the Federation have to be safeguarded. The role of the Na-
tional Council of Religious Affairs is therefore defined as such that
it acts only as an advisory body to the Rulers Council and the reli-
gious authorities of the states, and even then if its advise is
sought. The effectiveness of the Council is therefore doubtful,
although the possibility of its becoming a coordination body to
standardise Islamic religious legislations among the member sta-
tes is always there, provided that all the states cooperate and
support it.
It is at the state level that the Islamic religious administration
has really become in~titutionalised.The bureaucratic characteris-
tics of the administration at the state level are becoming clearer.
The Majhs and the Department have a hierarchy of officials who
hold authorities in their states. Besides those who have all the time
existed ir~the Islamic religious administration like the Mufti and
Kadi, there are others who are lay-officials but having authorities
to administer matters related to religion. Thus there are the enfor-
cements officers who have the authority to arrest those who have
committed offences according to the syariah law, supervisors of

258
religious education and religious teachers, collectors of zakat and
fltrah and others. Officials like the Multi and Kadi and the lay-
officials, have their authorities legitimated by the Council and De-
partment. And the Council has the authority to issue fatwa (ruling
on religious problems) and the taullah without which one cannot
teach religion outside one’s own family. In fact, within the state, it
is the council, in the name of Sultan, which is the highest authority
in a state. In short, it has the power and authority to prescribe the
dogmas in the form of fatwas; it is a body which Iegitimises not only
the authorities of those working for the Council as officials or lay-offi-
dals, but also provides legitimation for other things concerning
religion; it applies sanctions through its kadi courts and others.
With these characteristics, there is every possibility to say that Is-
lam, in so far as it concerns the member states, has what in socio-
logical terms would be called a “church”. And one result of this
is that not only are the authorities becoming clearly defined to the
adherents, but also the application of sanctions. Offenders on reli-
gious matters are liable to be arrested by officials belonging to the
Council and Department or by the lay-officials like the imam in the
kampungs. Failure to comply with the rulings of the Coundl of Religious
Affairs of the state is a punishable offence. Hence, while there
may be dissent on certain rulings of the Council, a Muslim who
resides in the state is obliged to accept that ruling of the Council
even on controversial questions. The day on which the First of
Ramadhan falls (the fasting month) or the first of Shawal (Id—ul-----
Fitri) may not be observed privately for one may not agree with the
use of mathematical calculations but would rather rely on the sigh-
ting of the moon, but publicly one has to comply with the official
ruling. As the administration has become more institutionalised,
there is a clearer definition of authorities, especially with regard to
the administration of sanctions. Hence one can expect a greater
degree of conformity in the religious behaviour of the community.
The other implications can also be observed. The structure of
the administration, we have noticed, provides for the Council to be
outside direct government control. It is regarded as a corporate
body which can invest in properties or take part in business activI-
ties. When the Islamic Economic Congress in the country, for
example, decided to accumulate capital from Muslims, which
actually means Malays, as part of the government policy to secure
30% of Malay participation in commerce, the Councils of Religious
Affairs of the State provided a ready-made machinery to implement

259
this project. Thus, each Muslim family was obliged to contribute a
sum besides paying the obligatory fttrah during the Ramadhan last
year. And a recent statement by the Council of Religious Affairs of
Perak that it would soon go into business ventures and made
investments further underscore the point made here.
The institutionalisation of religious administration as embodied
in the Council and Department of Religious Affairs in each state
also encouraged the formation of social-action groups. The main-
tainance of mosques, the collection of zakat and fitmh, and reli-
gious education, in the form of regular private schools and Quran
instructors, employ either directly or indirectly a good number of
people. In the past, all these activities were mainly confined to the
immediate communities themselves. But with the Council and the
Department of Religious Affairs now having direct control over
them, disputes over wages, allowances and other matters are dealt
with by the Council and the Department. It is in the context of such
disputes that the religious school teachers and the mosque officials
have formed associations to look after their interests. The associa-
tion of mosque officials in Kelantan, for example, once took up the
case of their percentage of the zakat collection with the Council of
Religious Affairs, Kelantan, most vehemently. Similarly, there
have been many instances of religious teachers in the different sta-
tes staking claims for higher wages and better conditions of service
with the state governments. In these circumstances, a lot of poli-
tics were thrown in, and even non-Muslim members of the opposi-
tion parfies took up the cudgel on behalf of the teachers.
So while ideally Islam in theory would have no need for an orga-
nisation which is sociologically defined as a “church” the adminis-
tration of religious affairs in Peninsular Malaysia, through the
institutions of the Council and Department of Religious Affairs in
each state does show certain characteristics of the “church”.

260
17
ISLAMISATION OF THE MALAYS:
A TRANSFORMATION OF CULTURE

G.E. von Grunebaum has pointed out that the conversion ot the
Arabs to Islam beginning in the seventh century A.D. also meant a
transformation of their culture. The new religion not only brought
new values and ideals but also successfully provided new solutions
to old problems and helped to “legitimize answers that seemed
disrupting or otherwise inacceptable within the superseded
system”.1 The transformation of a culture through a change in
religion is possible because Islam stresses not only correct belief
but also right conduct. In Islam, belief and conduct are ideally one.
But scholars who have dealt with the Islamisation of the Malay
Archipelago are quick to say that Islam is but a thin veneer over
the indigenous Indonesian civilization.2 As J.C. van Leur puts it,
drawing a parallel between the Islamisation and the Indianisa~ion
of the Archipelago, “both these world religions were only a thin,
easily flaking glaze on the massive body of indigenous civili-
zation”.3 On the other hand, it has been suggested by C.A.O. van
Nieuwenhuize that “neither outwardly nor inwardly were those
who became the adherents of the Islamic creed need be forced into
a situation of conflict”. And Nieuwenhuijze observes further that
“if these people regard themselves for all practical purposes Mus-
lims, it is difficult to maintain that scientific research has come to
the conclusion that they are not”.4 Many theories have been
advanced regarding the spread of Islam into the area, and it would
take much space to go into them in detail for, after all, these ques-

261
tions5 have been dealt with by many competent scholars in the
field. What we shall examine is the impact of Islamic civilization
on the peoples of the Archipelago, particularly the Malays.
Islam penetrated into the Archipelago along the trade routes.
Arabs and other Muslim merchants had been known to be in the
area since the ninth century A.D., but the spread of Islam did not
begin in earnest until after the fourteenth century. One explana-
tion of this has been advanced by Dutch scholars who see the
spread of Islam as an integral part of the commercial activities in
the area. B. Schrieke argues that it was the Portuguese who provi-
ded the stimulus for the accelerated expansion of the religion. The
Muslim traders — both local and foreign — reacted to Portuguese
encroachment by intensifying proselytisation, especially in the
eastern part of the Archipelago.6 The local trading interests were
vested principally in the royal courts and commercial ports, and as
siich the fight against the Portuguese for control of trade was
waged mostly by the local Muslim princes. It has also been sug-
gested that the rise of local Muslim power was instrumental in
accelerating the downfall of the Hinduised states. Thus the dec-
line of Hindu dynasties in central Java is attributed to the activities
of Local Muslim principalities on the northen coast of Java.7 The
interpretation is that political motivation was tied up with that of
trade. Islam, it seems, was a convenient weapon to wield in at-
tempts to attain political and commercial goals against the Portu-
guese.
The spread of Islam in the Malay Archipelago has been linked
with the princely courts since Islamic scholarship and Muslim
prestige were associated with the royal centres. Not only did Mus-
lim theologians and sscholars from the West flock to these centres,
but the princely courts also provided a base for proselytisation by
Muslims in the area. Too much emphasis on the role of the royal
courts, however, tends to misrepresent the situation of Islam in the
Archipelago. It is tempting to liken the position of Islam among the
people to that of Hinduism in the preceding period. Scholars like
B.H.M. Vlekke and J.C. Van Leur have suggested that just as Si-
vaism had provided the religlo-magical charismatic aura for the
Hinduised rulers, Islam had come to serve a similar function in the
post-Hindu period. Vlekke shows that this was the case in Java-
nese politics in the fifteenth century. Islam had provided a new
source of magic for the rulers.8 Van Leur has presented a similar
view. According to him, Islamisation was dictated by “political
situations and political motives.”9 The dynasty of Malacca, for

262
instance, adopted Islam with the idea of using the new religion as a
“political instrument” against Hindu traders, Siam, China, and
the “Hindu region on Java. “10 The Hindu concejt of Devaraja or
divine kingship which was the cornerstone of the political structure
featuring the organisation of the state with the raja at the apex,
was perpetuated but given the Islamic form of legitimisation.
The viewpoint as represented by Vlekke and Van Leur has been
criticised on the grounds that it tends to reduce Islam to the level
of a pragmatic subterfuge to promote worldly ends. It is sugges-
ted, on the other hand; that the spread of Islam in the Archipelago
should be viewed in the light of the new values introduced by the
teachings of the new religion. Thus Islam did not succed solely
because it served the political, economic or class interests of the
aristocrats. It succeeded because its teachings appealed to the
people. Scholars like AP. Wertheim, C.AO. Neouwenhuijze,
and S. Hussein Al-Atas have suggested that Islam was attractive
to the people of the Archipelago begause it emphasized a democra-
tic ideology as apposed to caste-bound Hinduism.” Al-Atas, for
example, even goes fo the extent of suggesting that the adoption
of Islam by the people of the Archipelago was a result of a “revolu-
tion from within.”12 In other words, it was a dissatisfaction with the
Hinduised social system that made the people readily accept
Islam.
It is true that between the Islamisation and the Indianisation of the
Archipelago there was one important difference. After more than a
millennium, Hinduism had remained almost an exclusive cult of the
priesis and pnnces, whereas Islam, however nominally it was
practised in reality, had been the professed belief of the masses
and kings alike. But it would be extremely difficult to ascertain the
degree and nature of social conflict in the Indianised society prior to
conversion to Islam. It is, moreover, important to note that the socio-
political structure inherited from the Hindu period by the new
Malay Islamic states had been retained more or less unchanged.
The Hindu concept of devaraja, for example, had been modified by
the Islamic view of king as “God’s shadow on earth.” This is the
essential difference which should be noted: while the basic struc-
ture, featuring the rulers and the aristocrats at the top of the
pyramid with the common people — the rakyat
— at the base, had
remained intact, the meaning attached to the differential statuses
and roles had become different. The notion of divine kingship had
been replaced by the idea of just and benevolent kingship, al-
though the institution was no less sacrosanct In fact, Islam crea-

263
ted a new social class, that of the Arab claiming to be descendants
of the Holy Prophet. These people were accorded a status equiva-
lent to the local population of royal birth. Especially in the Philippi-
nes, the creation of state as a political organisation did not actually
begin with Hindu influence but with the introduction of Islam into
the southern islands by Arabs scholars and merchants’3 in the fif-
teenth century A.D.
What should be emphasized regarding the role of the Islamic
ideology in the Islamisation of the people, therefore, is not so
much its “democratic” doctrines but rather the fact that new
values were created. This is particularly true when it comes to self
indentity of an individual. As W.F. Wertheim has rightly pointed
out:
Islam gave the small man a sense of individual worth as a
member of the Islamic community. According to Hindu ideo-
logy he was merely a creature of lower order than the mem-
bers of the higher castes. Under Islam he could, as it were,
feel their equal, or even, in his quality as a Moslem, the
superior of such of them as were not Moslems themselves,
even though he still occupied a subordinate position in the
social structure 14
Another point that should be stressed is the recognition of one’s
piety and knowledge of religion in a Muslim community. It is often
said that the conversion to Islam ~senough by the tongue, that is to
say, it is enough by just pronouncing one’s belief in Allah and His
Prophet. We have to bear in mind that Islam puts stress on right
conduct in addition to professing belief in its teachings. An indivi-
dual’s conduct has to be in accordance with the prescriptions and
proscriptions of the religion. In actual practice, however, there are
usually gradations in the observance of Islamic dogmas b~yindivi-
dual Muslims. But the ideal is usually the objective, thus it is
expected that believers will strive for the orthodox perfection in
the observance of religious tenets. And this does not mean only
pious observances of the rituals, but also strict adherence to the
moral conduct and eversearching scholarship for the true meaning
of God’s word and the teachings of His Prophet. Thus Islam intro-
duced to the Malay society not only a monotheistic religion but also
an ethical system which made a demand not only on the rakyat but
also on the rulers. From the thirteenth century on, scholarship in
Malay society was one which emphasised religion. It was not confi-
ned to theology alone, but other aspects as well, especially matters
pertaining to good government and just society. So learning in the

264
Islamic tradition progressed as C.W.J. Drewes notes:
The Islamisation of Indonesia is still in progress, not only in
the sense that Islam is still spreading among pagan tribes, but
also in that people who went over to Islam centuries ago are
living up more and more to the standards of Muslim ortho-
doxy As the Indonesians grew better acquainted with the
religious literature of Islam, the dividing line not only bet-
ween orthodoxy and heterodoxy but also between what was
consistent with Islam in Indonesian society and what was not,
became clearer.’5
Another factor that forms a background to the Islamisation of
the Malay Archipelago is Sufism, or Islamic mysticicm. It is said
that the ideas and practices connected with mysticim in Islam were
the result of an early contact with the religious of India.’6 It is not
surprising that when Islam spread to India, sufism found a fertile
ground in which to develop. In the Archipelago, it was claimed that
the teachings of the Sufis had accelerated the proselytisation of Is-
lam.’7 The period of the spread of Islam in the Archipelago coinci-
ded with the time of unifying role played by the Sufis after the fall
of the Baghdad Caliphate in the middle of the thirteenth century
A.D. The efforts of the Sufis in propagating Islam in the Malay
Archipelago have been characterised as follows:
They (the Sufis) taught a complex syncretic theosophy largely
familiar to the Indonesians, but which was subordinate to,
although an enlargement of the fundamental dogmas of Is-
lam: they were proficient in magic and possessed powers of
helding: and not least, consciously or unconsciously, they
were prepared to preserve continuity with the past, and to use
the terms and elements of the pre-Islamic culture in an
Islamic context.’8
It is said that the main single contribution attributed to the Sufis
in facilitating conversion to Islam in the Archipelago had been
their ability to syncretise Islamic ideas with existing local beliefs
and religious notions and their tolerance towards these pre-
Islamic beliefs. But one should also bear in mind that Sufism conti-
nued to be practised long after the initial conversion. In this case,
Sufism had nothing to do with the attempt to accommodate earlier
beliefs, but had come to function as an approach to religion, even if
its doctrines were regarded as heretical by some schools in Islam.
The writings of the seventeenth century Indonesian Sufis in north
Sumatra are a case in point. As A.H.Johns puts it in another
paper, “in this instance (these writings are) not a matter of syncre-

265
tism with primitive cults, but a deviation that was part of the Islamic
tradition itself.”9
This brings us to an important point in understanding the back-
ground of Islam among the Malays. The Sufis, and also other early
propagators of Islam in the area, brought with them popular be-
liefs which, properly speaking, stand outside the strict teachings of
Islam. Most of these popular elements arose not only when Islam
spread from Arabia to Persia and then to India, but also through
earlier Arabic contacts with the Egyptians, Hebrews and Chris-
tians in the West Local elements tended to be added to the ever
expanding Islamic civilization, and Islamic elements themselves
were prone to be given new meanings and functions. It was ine-
scapable that such situations should arise as Islam imposed itself
on already established belief systems. The practice of mysticism
helped to facilitate such processes. In the Archipelago Islamic
id~ascame to be identified with existing beliefs. The spread of Is-
lam also brought with it magical beliefs and practices popular
among the Persians and Indian Muslims. Some of the texts on Is-
lamic magic are still today regarded as Kitab, a term usually reser-
ved for religious books. One of the most celebrated works held in
high esteem by the Malay peasantry is Taj-u!-Muh.ik, which is of-
ten regarded as a standard reference for Islamic magic. Besides
magic, Taj-ul-Muluk also contains chapters on curing illnesses.
Besides the Taj, there are many other versions which deal with
magic and cures for illnesses and they are collectively known as
Kitab Tib. Saint-worship or the worship at the graveside of holy
men, which is quite wide-spread in other Muslim areas, is another
example of the product of Islamic mysticism. This complex of be-
liefs is known as keramat-worship amnng the Malays. Like other
folk or popular belief traditions, there are many forms and versions of
kemmat-worship. However such beliefs and practices are informal
aspects which have not been accepted or recognised formally. Hence
they are on the periphery of Malay life, tolerated but not officially
recognised by the learned or ukima.
The Malays today belong to the orthodox Sunni sect, but the
total impact of Islamic culture had come from many defferent
directions. Islamic Malay culture is actually woven from numerous
diverse strands. The early propagators came principally from In-
dia, from the Malabar coasts and from Gujerat. Richard Winstedt,
for example, suggests that conversion to Islam was facilitated by
the fact that the early Indian missionaries were able to syncretise
Islamic teachings with existing beliefs.20 It is interesting to note in

266
this connection that the Sanskrit terms for some religious notions
have been applied to Islamic practices instead of adopting Arabic
terms. Sanskrit words such as puasa for “fasting,” neraka for
“hell”, and syurga for “heaven” are representative examples.
Even the word for religion is taken from Sanskrit, that is agama.
Sufism and popular Islamic elements were brought to the Archipe-
lago from India to a much greater extent than from Persia or
Arabia. However, whether they had come directly or indirectly,
Persian influence on the culture of the Malays has been particular-
ly strong especially on the Malay royal courts. Malay court cere-
monies, the title “Syah” for the Sultans or rulers, literature and
ideas on statecraft and kingship, the literary style of court litera-
ture, religious literature of Shi’ite tradition, Sufi writings, and
popular narratives, all bear indelible marks of Persian influence.2’
In addition to the Indians and Persians, the Arabs also played a
role in bringing to bear the influence of Islamic civilization on the
Malays. By the seventeenth century A.D. there were already per-
mament settlements of Arabs in the Archipelago, and “wandering
Arab traders, adventurers, and religious scholars had been a fea-
ture of Malay life for many hundred years”22 As stated above, in
the Philippines as well as in other parts of the Archipelago, the sta~
tus accorded the “Sayyid” (descendantd of the Holy Prophet)
enabled some to carve out kingdoms for themselves and rule over
the Malay subjects. As descendants of the Holy Prophet as they
claimed themselves to be, they were regarded as ha~/ingnot only a
charisma but piety and knowledge in religious matters. The Arabs
were often involved in local politics and with the esteem they were
held by the local population they often en4ed up in the position of
advantage. But still their contribution had been in the field of reli-
gious knowledge as suggested by William Roff:
the Malays had for centuries tended to look upon all
Arabs, whatever their origin, as the direct inheritors of the
wisdom of Islam, and on Sayyids in particular as posses-
sed of unexampled piety and religious merit.23
As opposed to the earlier propagators of Islam from India and Per-
sia who were responsible for the spread of pantheistc mysticism
and other popular elements of Islam, the Arabs had familiarised
the Malays with the orthodox teachings of the religion. This does
not mean that the Arabs had no hand in the spread of popular Isla-
mic beliefs and practices, for itinerant Arab mendicants perform-
ing magic and divination have been known in the Archipelago for ~
long time. In fact most of the keramat worshipped by the Malays

267
are the graves or sites once connected with Arab traders or adven-
turers. And Arab merchants who travelled from village to village
would often have semi-precious stones and talismen which they
claimed had special magical qualities.
More important than the role of the Arabs in advancing orthodox
teachings is the closer contact the Malays enjoyed with the Arab
world during the last two centuries. Two phenomena should be
singled out: the first is the “Wahhabi” reformation, a movement
which swept the Arab world in the middle of the eighteenth cen-
tury, and the second is the “modernist” movement started in the
last century by scholars like Sa~id Djamal al-Din Al-Afghani
and Muhammad ‘Abduh of Egypt. The main aim of the “Wah-
habi” movement was to return to the purity of Islamic mono-
theism. Thus it campaigned and attacked vigorously any form of
practice or belief that might have contaminated these ideals. The
pre-Islamic survivals, magical practices and saint-worship which
had come to attach themselves to the religious practices of the
Muslims, were condemned and attacked. The influence of the
movement in furthering the character of orthodoxy among the
Malays had been quite considerable. The second movement too
had its roots in the “Wahhabi” ideals, but the stress had been more on
“modernistic” reforms. In Indonesia the reform movements like
Muhammadiah and others were not only interested in furthering
the teachings of Islam but had built up organisations which also
served the public by establishing schools and hospitals.24 In the
Peninsula, the reformers of the modernist school were referred to
as Kaum Muda and they lashed away at both the Malay peasantry
as well as the aristocracy for subscribing to un-Islamic beliefs and
customs of the past, which feature a great deal not only in the
rituals and ceremonials but also in the everyday life of the people.
Of the cultural influence that Islam had brought to bear on the
Malays, those in the field of literature have been the most pro-
found. The literary heritage of the Malays has been exclusively
written in the Perso-Arabic script, including those literary works
carried over from the Hindu period. The connection of literary
activity with the royal court is richly reflected in the literature.
Treatises on duties of kingship and concepts of state are represen-
ted in books like Taj-us-Salatin (The Crown of Kings) and Bus-
tan-us-Salatin (The Garden of Kings). Theologians who flocked
to the royal courts translated and wrote works on Islamic jurispru-
dence, theology, and history. Even the state chronicles, which clai-
med a sacred origin for the ruling dynasties, were modelled on

268
Persian or Indian works such as Syah-Nameh and Akbar Nameh.
Islam also introduced a wealth of writings on mysticism to the
Malay world. These writings do not represent attempts of syncre-
tism with polytheistic beliefs. They are doctrinal exercises in the
tradition of Islam. Tales of heroes were among the earliest stories
to be introduced to the area. Winstedt claims that “the first task of
the missionaries was to substitute for th~Hindu epics tales of the
heroes of Islam”.25 These hero tales fitted into the feudal structure
of the society as did the Mahabhrata and Rornayana in the Hindu
period. From the Muslims’ lands of Persia and India came works
bearing Shi’ite influence and spurious treatment of Islamic history
and theology. Tales of the lives of the prophets based on popular
legends, Sufi thoughts couched in simplistic term’~,and treatises on
magicand divination hadbeen circulating in the MalayArchipelago since
the early days of Islam. It is from these sources that popular Islamic
notions were introduced to the Malay masses.
As far as the basic tenets of Islam were concerned, the impact of
Islan~icideology had been felt in the royal courts as well as in the
villages. But the total impact of Muslim civilization apparently had
different meanings at the different social levels. Thus literature
about statecraft or doctrinal discussions on points of theology
would principally belong to courtly circles, while popular religious
literature and the romances would inevitably find their way to the
masses. The point to be made is that the scholarly tradition of Is-
lam was nurtured within the precincts of the royal courts,26 or if
there was no royal patronage, there would have been schools
established by scholars of repute and to these scholars the aspiring
young students would flock to study religious knowledge. The
Pesantren (as it is known in Indonesia) used to be the centres of
religious instruction. Althought such schools later became the
srronghold of the conservative scholars as against the teachings of
the so-called “modernistic reformers”, they had served for a long
time as the point of reference for Islamic knowledge. The peasan-
try on the other hand, while subscribing to the basic tenets of Is-
lam were quite often unaware of the scholastic traditions of reli-
gious knowledge.
The characteristics of the early period of conversion have to be
contrasted with the subsequent trend towards orthodoxy and rigo-
rous application of Islamic teachings. Retentions of past beliefs
still form a part of the Malay’s belief system, and popular Islamic
elements are still tolerated in everyday life. Yet, the Malays has-
ten to claim that they are good Sunni Muslims. Toddy, Islam is the

269
declared official religion of Malaysia, although Malaysia itself is
not a theocracy, and freedom to worship any other religion is
guaranteed by the Constitution. In the component Malay states
there had been established government departments which dealt
with the administration of religious affairs in all aspects. In the
period of British administradition, religious affairs and local Malay
customs were under the jurisdiction of the Sultans and these were
administered through either a department, a council or the Sul-
tan’s office. But after 1948, every state in the Federation of Malaya
had established a religious affairs department. Muslims in Malay-
sia are also subjected to Islamic law which is applied as “personal
status law”, and subjected to the jurisdiction of religious courts
(mahkamah spariah) which are presided over by religious judges.
At the same time Islamic religious education in Malaysia has been
given a new dimension with the establishment of religious facul-
ties and departments in the universities.
In the light of these new developments, it is difficult to say that
Islam has not transformed the cultural values of the ,people.
Snouck Hurgronje had observed that conversion to Islam among
the peoples of the Malay Archipelago was characterized by expan-
sion rather than intensification. But such a statement seems to be
applicable only to the early period of Islam in the Malay world. It
does not give an accurate picture of Islam in its subsequent deve-
lopment. Nevertheless, a substratum of older beliefs and a cultural
heritage (usually subsumed under the Arabic derived term ‘adat)
has continued to exist among the Malays. To say that .the Malays
are eclectic in their religious observance is to miss the point. There
are conflicts to be sure, but such conflicts can best be described in
the way P.E. de Josselin de Jong views the position of customary
law (‘adat) and Islamic law (syara’) in a Malay community:
The conflict is between two system of ideals and practices,
both of which were considered by the society concerned as
being an integral of its culture, both applicable to the entire
society, and both perceived as a system by inhabitants of the
society 27
We may add, furthermore, that each system serves a different
function in the total culture of people. But since the fourteenth
century AD. onwards, it can safely be said that Islam had trans-
formed the culture of the Malays. From then on, it is the Islamic
belief and ethos that have become the foundation of the culture. of
the Malays.

270
Notes
1. ‘Transformation of culture as Illustrated by the Rise of Islam.” in L. Brayson.
L. Pinklestein and R.M. Mac Iver, (eds.), Conflict of Power in Culture, Proceeding of
the Seventh Conference ofScience, Philosophy, and Religion. NewYork, 1978. pp.
218—224.
2. See, for instance, K.P. Landon Southeast Asia: Crossroad of Religion,
Chicago. 1949. pp. 134—164.
3. Indonesian Trade and Society, The Hague and Bandung 1955, p. 169.
4. Aspects of Islam in Post-Colonial Indonesia. The Hague and Bandung,
1958. pp. 39—40.
5. See for instance Caesar Adib Majul. “Theories on the Introduction and
Expansion of Islam in Malaysia”, in The International Association of Historians of
Asia, Second Biercial Conference Proceedings. Taipei, 1962
pp. 339—398.
6. Indonesian Sociological Studies, The Hague and Bandung 1957, pp. 234—236.
7. B.H.M. Vlekke, Nusantara: A History of Indonesia, rev. ed., Hague and
Bandung. 1959. p. 86.
8. Ibid.
9. Indonesian Trade and Society, p. 122.
10. Ibid., p. 112.
11. See W.F. Wertheim, Indonesian Society in Transition, The Hague &
Bandung. 1959. pp. 196—197 and C.A.D. van Nieuwenhuijze, op. cit..
pp. 35—36.
12. “On the need for a study of Malaysian Islamisation”, Journal of South East
Asian History, lV (March 1963) pp. 68—81.
13. See Eric Casino The Jama Maupun: A Changing Samal Society in the
Southern Philippines, Quezon City 1976, p. 25.
14. Indonesian Society in Transition, p. 196.
15. “Indonesia: Mysticisms and ActMsm,” in G.E. von Grunebaum (ed.) Unity and
Variety in Muslim Civilisation. Chicago, 1955, p. 292.
16. Murray, T., Titus, Islam in India and Pakistan, Calcutta, 1959, pp. 153—156.
17. A.H.. Johns. “Sufism as a Category in Indonesian Literature and History.”
Journal of South East Asian History, Vol. II (July 1961), pp. 10—23.
18. Ibid., p. 15.
19. ‘Aspects of Sufi Thoughts in Indonesia’, Journal of the Malayan Branch of the Royal
Asiatic Society. XXVIII. 1 (1955) 70—77.
20. The Malays: A Cultural History, New York, 1950 pp. 35—36.
21. See G.E. Marrison, “Persian Influences on Malay life”, Journal of the
Malavan Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, XXVIII (1955) pp. 52—69.
22. William R.. Roff. ‘The Malay-Muslim World of Singapore at the Close of the
Nineteeth Century”. Journal of Asia Studies, XXIV (1964). P. 80.
23. Thid, p.81.
24. See Delia Noer, The Modernist Muslim Movement in Indonesia. 1900/1942.
Singapore, Kuala Lumpur, 1973.
25. The Malays: A Cultural History, p. 145.
26. See Mohd. Taib Osman. “Raja Ali Haji of Riau: A Figure of Transition or the
Last of the Classical Pujanggas?” in Bahasa Kesusasteraan dan Kebudayaan

271
 Melayu: Esei-Esei Penghormatan kepada Pendeta Za‘aba, Kuala Lumpur,
1976, pp. 136-160.
27. “Islam versus Adat in Negeri Sembilan (Malaya)”, Bijdragen-Iot de Taal-
land~enVolkenkunde, Deel CXVII, 1, (1960), p. 203.

272
18
THE CONCEPT OF NATIONAL CULTURE:
THE MALAYSIAN CASE
The Second World War has been the water-shed in more ways
than one in the history of mankind. The momentum in the advan-
cement of technology which started with the industrial revolution
in the last century has been carried forward at a greater speed than
ever before since the end of the War. But the most meaningful
event has been the creation of so many new states or nations
which, on the one hand, solved the problem of decolonisation of
territories once governed by the Western powers, but, on the
other, created problems for these fledgling states as well. The
problem which has received much attention from scholars, espe-
cially those of the West, is how these states cope with the problem
of modernisation. Under this are subsumed such problems ~s eco-
nomic development, technological advancement and social uplift-
ment of the population. In a nutshell, the problem is that these
new nations or states are economically poor, technologically back-
ward and socially impoverished so that they are often regarded as
not the equal of the established nations of the West: hence the
term under-developed countries is used for these nations as a con-
trast to the developed nations of the West. One measure of the
comparative status that exists among nations is in the form of the
so-called aids given by one set of nations to another. (I said the so-
called aids because such aids, especially the military kind, end up
only with the receiving country being trapped into some kind of
* The paper was originally read at the Asian Association of National Languages
Conferences held in Manila. 4—9 December. 1978.

273
political blackmail and bondage to the donor country.) However,
this seemingly practical relationship has psychological implica-
tions as well, for otherwise it would not have been necessary to re-
sort to such euphemism as “developing countries” or “emergent
nations”. Whatever it is, it is clear that the relative economic and
technological status of the new nations in an international setting
has to be off-set by other means. Thus it is the concern of the new
nations to present themselves as respectable members of the inter-
national family of nations through their own cultural identities.
This is one way to assert their presence intern,ationally.
We may call this the external need for a cultural identity. But
how to project this identity externally is also a problem because
while a new nation has to project an image which would symbolise
its uniqueness and dignity, it has to do this from a situation where
no such identity had existed before. Too often the new nation or
state inherits the territory left behind by the colonial master, but
besides the territorial boundary and the governmental infra-struc-
ture that the new nation inherits, there is nothing much in terms of
socio-psychological identity of oneness or social identification as
one community that the new nation can fall back on for this pur-
pose. In most instances, it was the deliberate policy of the colonial
powers to keep the population divided and differentiated so that
colonial rule could be maintanied effectively. “Divide and Rule”
was the cornerstone of colonial policy. Thus to project a common
identity based on the socio-cultural diversity of its population is not
an easy task, but it has to be done consciously and judiciously.
The external need to project such identity may not be as impor-
tant as the need really to fulfil and buttress this identity with a sen-
se of unity and belonging among the citizens of a new nation. Too
often, the people who make up the new nations had never had the
experience of belonging to a single socio-political community. Be-
fore the advent of Western rule, the social organisation had been
in the form of separate and different grouping, be it tribal, village
conglomeration, longhouse or townships, and each almost indepen-
dent of the other. The most sophisticated form of social organisa-
tion was perhaps a Kingdom, a territory with rather unclear boun-
daries and ruled by a king. Affiliation and loyalty had been by eth-
nic, linguistic and local oiientations. The territories which had
once been under the colonial rule, and which came to be inherited
by the new states, were thus arbitrarily defined, the boundaries being
dedded by armed conflict, commercial competition or political in-
fluence. The thread that held the different pieces together was the

274
 effective and efficient machinery of the colonial government, and
ironically the first foothold that a new government has, by way of
providing the unity for the new state, is this very governmental
infra-structure. Even if independence has been gained through a
revolution as in the case of Indonesia, the colonial government
machinery is not dismantled, but rather rebuilt or modified to suit
the new needs and direction. Such infra-structure would include
not only the civil service personnel, the legal system, an admini-
strative network covering the whole country, revenue collection
and education system but also, to a certain extent, industrial, eco-
nomic and communication build-up. It should be pointed out that
all these services were rather minimal for the aim was not so much
to develop the colonial territory and its people, but to strengthen
the economy of the mother country. On gaining independence, the
new nation has to rely a great deal on this governmental infra-
structure, but at the same time new political needs have to be crea-
ted, both external and internal, and therefore new direction has to
be thought out and formulated. In some instances, preparation had
started long before independence was gained. This was done
through nationalistic and other political movements. One such
example is the Pujangga Baru literary movement in Indonesia in
the thirties. Although this was an elitist movement, its idea of pro-
moting a truly Indoneisan literature, both in the use of one com-
mon lanquage and the expression of modernistic social concepts,
thus transcending local languages and parochial cultural expres-
sions, was one of the important elements in the development of a
common Indonesian culture. Thus the example of Pujangga Baru
illustrates the fact that the concern to create a national culture
transcending the local ones was present even long before indepen-
dence was achieved.
In the case of Malaysia, the need to have a national culture has
been motivated not so much by the idea of projecting a distinctive
cultural identity abroad but more by the fact that her viability as a
national entity would have to depend on the inter-group harmony
of its population which is made up of the three major ethnic categories:
(a) the indigenous peoples comprising the Malays as well as the
Kadazan, Murut, Bajau, and other groups in Sabah; and the Iban,
Bidayuh, Kenyah, Kayan, Melanau and numerous other groups in
Sarawak, (b) the Chinese and (c) the Indians. However, the two
problems are inter-related because the concept of a national cul-
ture transcending the local and ethnic cultures is the very one that
is supposed to project the identity of the nation internationally. In

275
a country where the indigenous population makes up 54.7% of the
total population of about twelve milloin and the rest made up of
34.2% Chinese and about 10.6% Indians,1 the problem is really
acute. To make the situation more complex, the compartmentali~sa-
tion of the different ethnic groups into economic specialisations
under the colonial rule, separated the major groups even further.
The Federation of Malaya which was made up of nine Malay Sul-
tanates and two British settlements of Penang and Malacca was
given independence by the British on 31 August 1957. On 16 Sep-
tember 1963, the two British colonies of Sarawak and Sabah joined
the Federation and the new enlarged state is called the Federahon
of Malaysia. One characteristic of the political deve~opmentof the
country since independence has been the comparative stability
achieved through a government formed by a partnership of three
major ethnic parties — UMNO, MCA, and MIC.2 Except for the
racial riots which took place after the general elections of 1969,
there has not been anything untoward happening in the country
apart from the communist insurgency which, however, has been
well contained by the armed forces and confined to some sjoradic
and far-between skirmishes along the Thai-Malaysia border and in
Pahang. However, racial overtones are still strong in political acti-
vities. While the government policy in achieving stability is
through redressing the economic imbalance between the ethnic
groups, especially between the poor indigenous people and the
better-off immigrant groups who had benefifted from the favour-
able situation created by the British, the rumblings of dissatisfac-
tion expressed by the non-indigenous political parties, especially
those who do not join the government, only go to underscore the
fact that in spite of the outward harmony and unity, there is always
the danger that the stability of the country can be upset. That is
the reason why a more permanent solution has to be found; the
country cannot rely indefinitely on the pragmatism and expedience
of checks and balances between the interests of the various
groups.
The rise of Malay ‘nationalism’ in the Peninsula can be traced
back to the modernist Islamic movements which started from
about the turn of the century. But, in effect, the nationalistic senti-
ments, until the thirties, were not especially pronounced because
the emerging movements were confined to mostly socio-religious
issues. However, political consciousness was nurtured among the
young teachers and other educated young people, especially in the
thirties.3 Kesatuan Melayu Muda (Young Malays Union) which

276
was formed in 1938 was the first direct expression of Malay politi-
cal consciousness with anti-colonial sentiments. It should be ex-
plained that anti-colonial feelings did not find such strong expres-
sion in the Malay states because, in theory these states were Bri-
tish protectorates under their own sovereign sultans, and therefore
were supposedly independent. That is the reason why Malay
nationalism suddenly surged forth into the surface under Dato’
Onn bin Jaafar, in 1946, when the British coerced the Sultans to
agree to surrender their sovereignties to the British so that the Malay
states, together with the British Settlements of Penang, Malacca
and Singapore could be transformed into a Malayan Union under
direct British rule. It was this awakened Malay nationalism which
gathered momentum and saw the Malayan Union dismantled and
ultimately won independence for the country, but without Singapore.
Among the Chinese and Indians in Malaya and Singapore, be-
fore the Second World War, political activity took the form of an
extension of the activities of the mother-countries. The strunggle
between Communist and Kuomintang factions in mainland China
spilled over into Malaya among the Chinese population. The In-
dians in Malaya also echoed the politics of India especially the acti-
vities of the Indian Congress or the Indian Muslim League. The
partition of India and Pakistan, for instance, was also marked by
Hindu-Muslim clashes in some urban centres in Singapore and
Penang. Similarly, the Communist and the Kuomintang struggle
for support among the Nanyang Chinese was so strong that it was
once said that every Chinese household in Malaya had two flags —

one Communist and the other Kuomintang — ready to be flown

depending on the turn of events in China. Hence among the Chi-
nese and Indians, political awakening with regard to the local Ma-
layan situation came rather late. Even if it existed, it was confined
to a few. Among the Chinese, for example, consciousness with
regard to their stake in their new adopted home was confined to
the English educated and the local-born.
It is against this historical background that the concept of natio-
nal culture in Malaysia should be examined. Right at the oUtset,
even before independence was achieved, the awareness among the
Malays of the fact that they had to assert their cultural identity, be-
sides their political position as the indigenous population of the
country, was very strong. The opposition to the Malayan Union
was, to a great extent, motivated by the fear that the British were
about to give immediate citizenship to the Chinese and Indians in
Malaya. In the eyes of the Malays, such a provilege should not be

277
given before loyalty and sense of belonging to the adopted country
has been inculcated and tested. Awareness that culture was going to be
an important element in the life of the new nation was expressed
in the cultural, language and literary conferences which were held
even before independence was achieved. The sentiments usually
expressed with regard to Malay culture included among others:
the identification of the culture with the Malay culture area as a
whole; the indigenous status of Malay culture in the area and the
rich heritage of the culture especially in the arts. But the defina-
tion of ‘Malay culture’ in this respect has always been elusive, and
long hours had been spent to discuss in concrete terms what ‘cul-
ture’ meant and so on. The formulation had not been clear because
the concept of ‘culture’ differed among those who took part in such
discussions. However, to the majority of them ‘culture’ was mainly
the arts. Also, there was the tendency to be prescriptive as to what
‘culture’ should be.
In the early years of the concept of national culture in Malaysia,
the most vociferous with regard to its formulation were the literary
and artistic groups. While there is provis’ion made for the National
and Official Language in the country’s constitution, and while
there is also mention of the official religion, there is no mention of
culture. This is to be expected, for, logically, while one can identify
a particular language or religion, it is quite difficult to define a cul-
ture in concrete terms. However, a Ministry of Culture, Youth and
Sports was established on 16th May, 1964, but its status was ref-
lected by the fact that it was headed by an Assistant Minister rat-
her than a full Minister. The aim at the time was to have a govern-
ment agency to look after programmes involving youth, sport acti-
vities and cultural performances during celebrations and visits of
state guests. Thus, while there was a conscious manifestation on
the part of the literary and other conscious groups with regard to
the development of a national culture, it received little priority in
government planning.
The turning point came when racial riots broke out in Kuala
Lumpur two days after the general elections in May 1969. While
the country was placed under emergency rule, a great deal of
thought was given to the factors which brought about the trauma-
tic event. While the immediate solution was the introduction of the
New Economic Policy wherein greater economic opportunities and
advancement for the indigenous peoples were planned, no less
important was the formulation of National Principles (Rukun Ne-

278
gara) to promote inter-racial harmony in Malaysia and the promu-
lgation of laws to curb seditions and irresponsible public utterance
likely to incite racial animosities. It was then that the long-term
policies of restructuring society and the inculcation of loyalty to the
nation above the more primeval loyalties to ethnic and immediate
social groupings began to emerge in earnest. The Ministry of Cul-
ture, Youth and Sports for the first time appointed a Director of
Culture who was charged with the responsibility of promoting cul-
tural activities consonant with the needs of the nation. His first
task was to organise a nation wide congress on national culture.
This was held in August 1971 at the University of Malaya. Assisted
by some academics from the University, the Ministry organised
the congress in such a way that it first of all discussed the princip-
les to be adopted in formulating a national culture for Malaysia
and then proceeded to discuss the state of affairs of the different
iadigenous art forms and how these could be further nurtured so
that they could play a role in the development of the national cul-
ture. While the latter was more practical in nature, the former was
more abstract and theoretical. The formulation of the national cul-
ture. as was agreed at the congress, consisted of three main prin-
ciples:~
(a) the national culture of Malaysia must be based on the cul-
tures of the people indigenous to the region;
(b) elements from other cultures which are suitable and reaso-
nable may be incorporated into the national culture; and
(c) Islam will be an important element in the national culture.
The principles laid down may appear simple and straightforward,
but there are a great deal of ramifications which may arise from it.
Even the Prime Minister’s speech at the opening of the congress
referred to the fact that while the nat4onal culture was to be based
on indigenous cultures, the elements to be adopted would have to
be vigorous and positive, especially bearing in mind the pluralistic
5 Even without considering the
nature of the Malaysian society.
multi-ethnic character of the Malaysian population, the question of
perpetuating traditional elements would have to be considered in
the light of the present day reality. It is understandable that the
newly emerging states would have to fall back on their glorious
past to project respectability, but they also have to gain respectabi-
lity as twentieth century modern states.6 Thus the Prime Minister
rightly warned that the” ‘purity’ of village life adulated by some of
our writers cannot be accepted in the context of the development of
our Malaysian society in future”. It is obvious that some of the

279
traditional institutions, like the economic system and technology,
are out-dated, and therefore cannot be revived for any reason. But
that part of the congress that dealt with the various traditional art
froms did come out with recommendations which, to some extent,
smacked of revivalism. In a way, there was, in fact, a rediscovery
of traditions which had been neglected and unappreciated when
Malay society w~sunder-going the process of modernization. So
for the first time the beauty of traditional arts began to dawn on
the Malay elite who attended the congress.
It is clear that the question of selectivity is, abpve all, important.
The focus on symbolic aspects of culture especiafly the arts to pro-
ject national identity does not come into conflict with the modern
social institutions or even economic and technological develop-
ments. However, here lies the problem of the level of cultural
expression to be selected for the purpose of projecting the national
culture.7 Actually the question of level would include both the
level of culture the item is taken from and the level of culture of the
audience towards whom the item is aimed. As experienced by
countries in Europe when they first wanted to identify what in their
culture could be regarded as really representative of their “natio-
nal souls,” the elements were chosen from their traditional folk
cultures. Malaysia’s cultural planners and promoters also resorted
to the traditional folk cultures of the indigenous peoples of Malay-
sia for inspiration. It has become indeed a revival because, for the
first time, dances, songs, music, costumes and games which were
once confined to the folk communities of Malaysia were brought
out to the fore and given and unprecendented status and treatment
as items for cultural presentation at the national level.
Festivals are held at both local and national levels and
these are given wide publicity by the mass media. Dance groups
are formed and traditional dances are choreographed to
suit the modern audience. Traditional music and instruments
are improved upon to suit more critical ears. Even simple
costumes usually worn by women at home and at work, (e.g. the
so-called Baju Kedah) have been elevated as truly representative
of Malaysian costumes. Competitions among performers of folk
arts are organised, and some, as for instance the competitions in
folk music and folk songs, are annually organised by Radio and
Television Malaysia and featured as regular programmes. All this
can be said to be at the popular level of culture, espedally the
festivals which are held locally. Apart from government offidals,
politidans and culture enthusiasts, such festivals are not

280
usually attended by the elite of the Malaysian society. Even when
such festivals are held in Kuala Lumpur. e.g. the pesta budaya sta-
ged by the New Straits Times, the largest newspaper organisation
in Malaysia, the thousands that turn up are mainly people from the
lower income group, and Malays at that. This is another problem
that has arisen since most of the items are drawn from the indige-
nous cultures, such festivals and shows hardly interest the non-
indigenous groups. Even when special programmes, such as those
held during the Chinese New Year and Deepavali, where the major
bulk of the programmes is made up of Chinese and Indian items,
the response from the Chinese and Indians is not as enthusiastic,
compared to, for instance, the response given to cultural troupes
from Hongkong, Taiwan, Madras or Bombay. It is in fact a major
task for the Ministry of Culture, Youth and Sports to get a better
participation in its programmes from the Chinese and Indian popu-
lation. When the folk arts are presented through the mass media,
they should, in theory, reach all levels of audience, and, at the
receiving end, the way the audience exercise their selections must
ultimately decide how effective or influential a programme can be
In Malaysia, the problem does not rest solely on the question of
cultural level; how ethnic traditions and preferences can be trans-
cended is equally important. The multi-cultural reality is reflected
in the mass media. Besides the English press, there are news-
papers in Malay, Chinese and Tamil. In addition, the newspapers in
Sabah also include one or two pages in Kadazan, one of the native
languages of Sabah. Even the government-run Radio and Television
Malaysia has separate programmes on the radio for Malays, English,
Chinese and Tamils. In Sabah, news is also read in various native
languages. However, attempts are made to introduce the “national”
element Thus commentaries, introductions and announcement of
time-signals are in the national language. As for television, the
first channel is supposed to be the National Channel and, therefore,
apart from the canned programmes imported from abroad, others,
including advertisements, are in Malay.
At the elite cultural level, the idea of promoting traditional cul-
tural items as seeds for the development of a national culture has
gained some foothold — at the universities and in some elitist cul-
ture activities. Researches into the folk arts are conducted not only
as part of the courses taught but as full higher degree dissertations
in the various universities and colleges. If at one time the univer-
sities in Malaysia preferred to~confine their activities to giving
only academic courses, today, with Universiti Sains Malaysia as

281
values, such as democracy and egalitarianism, are today prefer-
red. Thus while the Sultanate of Malacca is used as an inspiration
of its greatness in the past, its feudalistic social values are criticised.
Hence instead of accepting Hang Tuah, the ideal figure of a war-
rior who gave unstinted loyalty to his king, as a hero, there is a
tendency to elevate Hang Jehat, the rebel who defied his king in
upholding righteousness, tc the idealistic position. This is just an
illustration of a situation w’~erehistory is offset by other considera-
tions, such as modern idealistic values. However, historical pro-
cesses have been a strong argument for the formulation of a natio-
nal culture. It has been pointed out that the indigenous culture in
the past had been very receptive to foreign influences as evident
from the many foreign elements which have been acculturated.
Thus the indigenous culture which forms the base for the forma-
tion of a national culture will easily incorporate those ‘lements
from the cultures of the immigrant people in the process. How-
ever, this is only theoretical and simply used as an example to
show that indigenous cultures have shown their capacity to absoth
elements from other cultures.
The concept of a national culture in Malaysia includes the use of
a national and official language as a common means of communi-
cation among the various ethnic groups in the country. It is even
written into the constitution of the country. In fact, if there is any
measure of success so far in the concept of national culture it has to
be judged from the degree of not only the acceptance of Malay as the
national and official language by the people of Malaysia but also the
extensiveness or the use of the language in everyday life. One other
criterion of success would be the use of Malay as the medium of ins-
truction in schools. 10 In short, the concept of national culture cannot
ignore the place of a national language in its formulation.
The concept of culture has always been abstract and elusive.
Even among anthropologists who have made it their business to
study what is called ‘culture’, there is no agreement as to what
actually constitutes the subject of their enquiry. Although there
have been formulations, guidelines and programmes in the name
of creating a national culture, it is not easy to define it in concrete
terms. This is particularly true at the popular level, and as such it
easily becomes a political weapon. In fact, the issue is often projec-
ted as a threat against the existing non-indigenous cultures, that
is, the creation of a national culture will mean the demise of Chi-
nese and Indian cultures. Manifestly the question of national cul-
ture can generate extremist feelings although it is little realised

284
usually attended by the elite of the Malaysian society. Even when
such festivals are held in Kuala Lumpur. e.g. the pesta budaya sta-
ged by the New Straits Times, the largest newspaper organisation
in Malaysia, the thousands that turn up are mainly people from the
lower income group, and Malays at that. This is another problem
that has arisen since most of the items are drawn from the indige-
nous cultures, such festivals and shows hardly interest the non-
indigenous groups. Even when special programmes, such as those
held during the Chinese New Year and Deepavali, where the major
bulk of the programmes is made up of Chinese and Indian items,
the response from the Chinese and Indians is not as enthusiastic,
compared to, for instance, the response given to cultural troupes
from Hongkong, Taiwan, Madras or Bombay. It is in fact a major
task for the Ministry of Culture, Youth and Sports to get a better
participation in its programmes from the Chinese and Indian popu-
lation. When the folk arts are presented through the mass media,
they should, in theory, reach all levels of audience, and, at the
receiving end, the way the audience exercise their selections must
ultimately decide how effective or influential a programme can be.
In Malaysia, the problem does not rest solely on the question of
cultural level; how ethnic traditions and preferences can be trans-
cended is equally important. The multi-cultural reality is reflected
in the mass media. Besides the English press, there are news-
papers in Malay, Chinese and Tamil. In addition, the newspapers in
Sabah also include one or two pages in Kadazan, one of the native
languages of Sabah. Even the government-run Radio and Television
Malaysia has separate programmes on the radio for Malays, English,
Chinese and Tamils. In Sabah, news is also read in various native
languages. However, attempts are made to introduce the “national”
element Thus commentaries, introductions and announcement of
time-signals are in the national language. As for television, the
first channel is supposed to be the National Channel and, therefore,
apart from the canned programmes imported from abroad, others,
including advertisements, are in Malay.
At the elite cultural level, the idea of promoting traditional cul-
tural items as seeds for the development of a national culture has
gained some foothold — at the universities and in some elitist cul-
ture activities. Researches into the folk arts are conducted not only
as part of the courses taught but as full higher degree dissertations
in the various universities and colleges. If at one time the univer-
sities in Malaysia preferred to~confine their activities to giving
only academic courses, today, with Universiti Sains Malaysia as

281
values, such as democracy and egalitarianism, are today prefer-
red. Thus while the Sultanate of Malacca is used as an inspiration
of its greatness in the past, its feudalistic social values are criticised.
Hence instead of accepting Hang Tuah, the ideal figure of a war-
rior who gave unstinted loyalty to his king, as a hero, there is a
tendency to elevate Hang Jehat, the rebel who defied his king in
upholding righteousness, t the idealistic position. This is just an
illustration of a situation w’~erehistory is offset by other considera-
tions, such as modern idealistic values. However, historical pro-
cesses have been a strong argument for the formulation of a natio-
nal culture. It has been pointed out that the indigenous culture in
the past had been very receptive to foreign influences as evident
from the many foreign elements which have been acculturated.
Thus the indigenous culture which forms the base for the forma-
tion of a national culture will easily incorporate those ‘lements
from the cultures of the immigrant people in the process. How-
ever, this is only theoretical and simply used as an example to
show that indigenous cultures have shown their capacity to absoth
elements from other cultures.
The concept of a national culture in Malaysia includes the use of
a national and official language as a common means of communi-
cation among the various ethnic groups in the country. It is even
written into the constitution of the country. In fact, if there is any
measure of success so far in the concept of national culture it has to
be judged from the degree of not only the acceptance of Malay as the
national and official language by the people of Malaysia hut also the
extensiveness or the use of the language in everyday life. One other
criterion of success would be the use of Malay as the medium of ins-
truction in schools. 10 In short, the concept of national culture cannot
ignore the place of a national language in its formulation.
The concept of culture has always been abstract and elusive.
Even among anthropologists who have made it their business to
study what is called ‘culture’, there is no agreement as to what
actually constitutes the subject of their enquiry. Although there
have been formulations, guidelines and programmes in the name
of creating a national culture, it is not easy to define it in concrete
terms. This is particularly true at the popular level, and as such it
easily becomes a political weapon. In fact, the issue is often projec-
ted as a threat against the existing non-indigenous cultures, that
is, the creation of a national culture will mean the demise of Chi-
nese and Indian cultures. Manifestly the question of national cul-
ture can generate extremist feelings although it is little realised

284
that the issue has been clouded over because it is too much politi-
cised. What is usually forgotten is that even when Islam is stated
as the official religion and Malay as the national and official
language in the constitution of the country there has not been any
loss in religious freedom nor in the use of languages other than
Malay. The concept of national culture in Malaysia is a process to-
wards attaining stable and viable nationhood as a political commu-
nity. While the external need to project the country with a distinc-
tive identity in a family of nations is to be fulfilled, there is the lar-
ger need for achieving greater social cohesion within the country
itself. The delicate balance in population among the major ethnic
groups makes it imperative that the concept of national culture be
formulated. Through it, socio-cultural differentiations can be
reduced and primeval loyalty to ethnic groups diminished.
Through it also loyalty to the supra-ethnic community, the nation
itself, can be inculcated.

Notes
1. Third Malaysia Plan. Kuala Lumpur: Govt. Printers, 1976. pp. 138—139.
2. UMNO: United Malay National Organisation.
MCA: Malaysian Chinese Association.
MIC: Malaysian Indian Congress.
3. See William R.Roff, The Origins of Malay Nationalism. Kuala Lumpur:
Oxford University Press. 1967.
4. Asas Kebudayaan Kebangsaan. Kuala Lumpur: Ministry of Culture, Youth
and Sports. pp. vii.
5. Ibid.. p. 7.
6. See McKim Marriot. “Culture policy in the new New States” in Clifford Geertz
(edt.). Old Societies and New States. New York/London. 1963. pp.
27—56.
7. For a discussion of this problem. see also Marriot’s article cited above.
8. 1-us speech at Kota Bharu, Kelantan on 16th July 1975. quoted by Ismail Zain
in his paper Masalah Kebudayaan di Malaysia (Problems of Culture in
Malaysia). Ministry of Cultural. Youth and Sports. n.d.
9. See example, my Tun Sri Lanang Lecture, Asas dan Pertumbuhan
Kebudayaan Malaysia. published by Ministry of Culture. Youth and Sports.

285