tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73267874090031208902024-03-17T12:57:39.470-07:00Mild ReportsMild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.comBlogger994125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-3799032600127771592024-03-17T12:56:00.000-07:002024-03-17T12:56:43.228-07:00The Islamic Legacy of Barus: Tracing Indonesia’s History Through Ancient Tombs<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg04O88DnfVc2qq0ss8PB0RikT9GK0X9lARkcshoBG0buwP4Qm-iGRYkEGoziQdl8rZvKa7Ayz0sY6OPnYPBM5eZ_OXmKu5V1R5xNYmYBRiQQqHAClBV5nPcBlTyfOx2FPgoqeCcOgO7PSIXK2ziQ2Lm8F3Mx93UrlODbs5uDLSS0963o2Gyr40T7FN9ref/s400/Tombstone_of_Sultan_Malik_Al_Shaleh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="308" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg04O88DnfVc2qq0ss8PB0RikT9GK0X9lARkcshoBG0buwP4Qm-iGRYkEGoziQdl8rZvKa7Ayz0sY6OPnYPBM5eZ_OXmKu5V1R5xNYmYBRiQQqHAClBV5nPcBlTyfOx2FPgoqeCcOgO7PSIXK2ziQ2Lm8F3Mx93UrlODbs5uDLSS0963o2Gyr40T7FN9ref/w492-h640/Tombstone_of_Sultan_Malik_Al_Shaleh.jpg" width="492" /></a></div><br />The entry of Islam into Indonesia left various historical
legacies, one of which is burial sites. These ancient graves are scattered
throughout the archipelago, bearing witness to the early spread of Islam and
the rich history of the region. One such significant site is located in Barus,
an area that was once an important trading port on the west coast of Sumatra.<p></p><p>Barus, also known as Fansur, was renowned for its production
of camphor, cloves, sandalwood, and nutmeg. Its strategic location on the edge
of the Indian Ocean made it a major international trade hub, attracting traders
from various parts of the world. Among these were Arab traders, who played a
crucial role in introducing Islam to the region.</p><p>Historical records dating back to the 9th century mention
Fansur as a bustling port city that enticed traders with the aroma of camphor.
Arab merchant Ibn al-Faqih noted Fansur as a significant trading port on the
west coast, further cementing its importance in the history of trade and Islam
in the region.</p><p>The ancient graves of Barus tell the story of early Islamic
civilization in Indonesia. The Mahligai Tomb site, located on a hill in Aek
Dakka, is the largest tomb complex in Barus, covering an area of around 3
hectares. It contains approximately 200 graves, grouped into several types of
stones, each with its own unique motifs and Arabic calligraphy.</p><p>Among the figures buried at the Mahligai Tomb site are Syekh
Rukunuddin, Syekh Muazzamzyah, Syekh Zainal Abidin Ilyas, and Syekh Imam
Khatib, all of whom played important roles in spreading Islam in the region.
However, the tombstone of Syekh Rukunuddin, dated to 48 Hijriyah, is no longer
at the site and is now housed in the North Sumatra State Museum.</p><p>Another notable tomb in Barus is the Papan Tinggi Tomb,
located in Pananggahan Village. This tomb complex contains about eight graves,
with one tomb measuring over 8 meters long and featuring intricate Islamic
calligraphy.</p><p>In the Gabungan Village, the Tuan Ibrahimsyah Tomb stands as
an ancient testament to the presence of Islamic communities in Barus.
Inscriptions on tomb number 12 provide evidence of Islamic settlements dating
back to 602 H, further solidifying Barus’s status as an early center of Islamic
civilization in Indonesia.</p><p>In 2017, President Jokowi visited Barus to inaugurate the
Tugu Titik Nol Peradaban Islam Nusantara (Zero Point Monument of the Nusantara
Islamic Civilization), recognizing Barus as a pivotal point in the early spread
of Islam in the archipelago. This designation highlights the importance of
Barus in Indonesia’s history and its role in shaping the country’s cultural and
religious landscape.</p><p>In conclusion, the ancient tombs of Barus stand as a
testament to the rich history of Islam in Indonesia. These burial sites not
only serve as a reminder of the early spread of Islam in the region but also
highlight the importance of Barus as a center of trade and culture in Southeast
Asia. Through these ancient graves, we can trace Indonesia’s history and
appreciate the diverse influences that have shaped the country into what it is
today.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-57517840446540161162024-03-16T15:11:00.000-07:002024-03-16T15:11:52.493-07:00The Untold Story of Hatta, Semaoen, and the Failed Pact: Unveiling Indonesia’s Struggle for Independence<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOVX9zT0WWFBdfhkcFZYKOVOtsUwDqOkihp54vQB4CoTDW46f1vJleaNi1wll3OEMMDwdK4sLm9kUx911lmrPK9moEKO-hvOfu3od0qSRAvlQJSQYVMui6N1wx34wldzX0AJocmnXAoS0KZ9eUaRoGB05vlWMc7jG8S4zTRK3Vs6o5z5mykIwC9bSZnkoT/s624/Untitled-1-4-624x351.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="351" data-original-width="624" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOVX9zT0WWFBdfhkcFZYKOVOtsUwDqOkihp54vQB4CoTDW46f1vJleaNi1wll3OEMMDwdK4sLm9kUx911lmrPK9moEKO-hvOfu3od0qSRAvlQJSQYVMui6N1wx34wldzX0AJocmnXAoS0KZ9eUaRoGB05vlWMc7jG8S4zTRK3Vs6o5z5mykIwC9bSZnkoT/w640-h360/Untitled-1-4-624x351.png" width="640" /></a></div><br />In the annals of Indonesian history, the early 20th century
stands out as a period of fervent nationalism and ideological awakening. Among
the pivotal moments of this era was the failed pact between Mohammad Hatta, a
key figure in Indonesia’s independence movement, and Semaoen, a prominent
leader of the Communist Party of Indonesia (PKI). This episode, though often
overlooked, sheds light on the complex dynamics and divergent ideologies that
shaped Indonesia’s path to independence.<p></p><p>The pact, signed on December 5, 1926, was meant to solidify
cooperation between the nationalist movement, represented by Hatta and the
Indonesian Association, and the communist faction led by Semaoen. However, just
two weeks after the agreement, Josef Stalin, the leader of the Soviet Union and
a key figure in the international communist movement, intervened, demanding its
cancellation. Stalin’s wrath was incited by Semaoen’s perceived deviation from
communist orthodoxy, as he had placed the communist movement under the control
of nationalist forces, a move deemed unacceptable by Moscow.</p><p>In his memoirs, Hatta recounted the tense moments that
followed Stalin’s directive. Semaoen was summoned, scolded, and instructed to
publicly announce the cancellation of the pact. The reasons behind Stalin’s
intervention remain speculative, but it is believed that he saw Semaoen’s
actions as a threat to Soviet influence and control over international
communist movements.</p><p>The fallout from the failed pact was significant. The PKI
rebellion, which erupted in November 1926 in Banten, further strained relations
between nationalists and communists. Hatta criticized the rebellion as a
misguided and ill-planned endeavor, lacking objective justifications. Despite
this, the Indonesian Association publicly attributed the rebellion to the
repressive policies of the Dutch East Indies government, aligning with the
narrative of anti-colonial resistance.</p><p>Semaoen’s journey from Moscow to meet Hatta in The Hague in
December 1926 marked a critical moment in their relationship. Semaoen revealed
details unknown to non-PKI members, such as Stalin’s order to PKI leaders in
Moscow, Alimin and Musso, to cancel the rebellion before it erupted. However,
due to the distance and time required for travel, Alimin and Musso arrived in
Southeast Asia only to find that the rebellion had already failed, leading to
their exile and the suppression of the PKI.</p><p>The failed pact and its aftermath had lasting implications
for both Hatta and Semaoen. Hatta emerged from the ordeal with a strengthened
resolve to pursue Indonesian independence through peaceful means, rejecting
underground revolutionary tactics favored by the communists. His plea during
the subsequent trial emphasized the Indonesian Association’s commitment to
non-violence, despite acknowledging the potential for deviation from peaceful
paths in the struggle for independence.</p><p>For Semaoen, the failed pact and subsequent events marked
the end of his influence in Indonesian politics. His exile to Europe in 1923,
prior to the failed pact, and his subsequent isolation from the nationalist
movement underscored the ideological and strategic differences that divided
Indonesian nationalists and communists.</p><p>In conclusion, the failed pact between Hatta and Semaoen
represents a crucial chapter in Indonesia’s struggle for independence. It
highlights the complexities of ideological alliances and the challenges of
navigating international influences in a colonial context. While the pact
ultimately failed, its legacy serves as a reminder of the diverse and often
divergent paths taken by those who fought for Indonesia’s freedom.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-81849934815718777752024-03-13T14:33:00.000-07:002024-03-13T14:33:09.155-07:00Unveiling the Epic Saga of Menak Jingga: Heroism and Resistance in Ancient Java<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3pMYrUyiXhcBTH5e7uJ8tZiawUFTrytFTrEI5apl_Jjudjj2g3bEgBngTceNhrqNOXa4NAEsAA3RqkSlQFfn5rGjuplZhy2PDw3O-ca7mPvC8KVaDevzo79D1MeWduV4u7aobKXioyGiMuYSRNqfSTXSDhcZC7_6pF7vEfVe9OZyqGHt5EDmaBw_CiVXS/s1200/zill_t086bh.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="831" data-original-width="1200" height="444" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3pMYrUyiXhcBTH5e7uJ8tZiawUFTrytFTrEI5apl_Jjudjj2g3bEgBngTceNhrqNOXa4NAEsAA3RqkSlQFfn5rGjuplZhy2PDw3O-ca7mPvC8KVaDevzo79D1MeWduV4u7aobKXioyGiMuYSRNqfSTXSDhcZC7_6pF7vEfVe9OZyqGHt5EDmaBw_CiVXS/w640-h444/zill_t086bh.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />In the annals of Javanese history, amidst the grandeur of
the Majapahit Empire, there emerges a figure shrouded in legend and valor—Menak
Jingga. A towering presence in the folklore of Java, Menak Jingga’s saga
transcends time, embodying the spirit of resistance and the indomitable will of
the people of Banyuwangi.<div><br /></div><div>Menak Jingga’s tale begins in the twilight of the Majapahit
era, a time of conquest and consolidation under the reign of Queen Kencana
Wungu. Despite the empire’s vast dominion over Java and the surrounding
archipelago, one realm remained defiant—the Kingdom of Blambangan, nestled at
the eastern edge of Java, under the leadership of Menak Jingga.</div><div><br /></div><div>A formidable figure, Menak Jingga’s affections for Queen
Kencana Wungu set in motion a series of events that would shape the destiny of
kingdoms. With the heart of a giant, he dispatched emissaries to propose
marriage to the queen, igniting a conflict that would test the very fabric of Majapahit’s
power.</div><div><br /></div><div>Amidst the political intrigue of Majapahit, a humble youth
named Damarwulan emerges from the tranquil paguron of Paluamba. Trained by his
grandfather, Damarwulan’s destiny intertwines with the fate of Majapahit as he
is summoned to the royal court.</div><div><br /></div><div>Under the watchful eye of Mahapatih Logender, Damarwulan’s
mettle is tested as he assumes the role of a palace gardener. Little does he
know that his humble beginnings conceal the makings of a hero destined for
greatness.</div><div><br /></div><div>As Majapahit faces adversity and the specter of defeat looms
large, a prophecy foretells that only a youth from Paluamba can vanquish Menak
Jingga. With the backing of Logender, Damarwulan accepts the challenge,
plunging into battle against the formidable ruler of Blambangan.</div><div><br /></div><div>In a duel of epic proportions, Damarwulan confronts Menak
Jingga, wielding the legendary Gada Wesi Kuning. With courage and
determination, he overcomes the giant, securing victory for Majapahit and
etching his name into the annals of history.</div><div><br /></div><div>Beyond the realms of folklore, Menak Jingga symbolizes the
enduring spirit of resistance that has defined the people of Banyuwangi for
centuries. From the days of Majapahit to the colonial era, the region of Tapal
Kuda has stood as a bastion of defiance against external forces.</div><div><br /></div><div>As empires rise and fall, the legacy of Menak Jingga
endures, a testament to the resilience and fortitude of the people of
Banyuwangi. Through the ages, their unwavering spirit has continued to shape
the narrative of Java’s rich and storied history.</div><div><br /></div><div>In the tapestry of Javanese folklore, the saga of Menak
Jingga stands as a beacon of heroism and resistance, weaving together the
threads of legend and history into a timeless epic that resonates across
generations.<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p></div><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-65995753444081236042024-03-11T09:00:00.000-07:002024-03-11T09:00:41.942-07:00The Spread of Islam and Local Traditions in West Java: A Historical Perspective<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiII47BOguN-P4LDX8Wj9WI0nT-xREI8gkniDgJ62GeKnFPt-8UCogbe62DyNeAnavmojQ9IH9W57QQtvdPPCjfGGSru3cA90YJDRYLeV9FRXRqLFcljNGNNJQxkFD4yM_vTL8LH4NTBw5Hfrov46yEDZ_Y9rM7E6iMA3C4095BcOYMLU-6rWrqClLwyJuN/s850/Map-of-the-Spread-of-Islam-in-Java-and-Indonesia-Reproduced-from-Hall-1985.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="553" data-original-width="850" height="416" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiII47BOguN-P4LDX8Wj9WI0nT-xREI8gkniDgJ62GeKnFPt-8UCogbe62DyNeAnavmojQ9IH9W57QQtvdPPCjfGGSru3cA90YJDRYLeV9FRXRqLFcljNGNNJQxkFD4yM_vTL8LH4NTBw5Hfrov46yEDZ_Y9rM7E6iMA3C4095BcOYMLU-6rWrqClLwyJuN/w640-h416/Map-of-the-Spread-of-Islam-in-Java-and-Indonesia-Reproduced-from-Hall-1985.png" width="640" /></a></div><br />The history of Islam in West Java, particularly in the
region of Sunda, dates back to the late period of the Sunda Kingdom. According
to historical sources, the spread of Islam in the Sunda region began in areas
such as Cirebon and Karawang. One of the earliest converts to Islam was Ki
Gedeng Tapa, the harbor master of Muara Jati Port in Cirebon, who embraced
Islam in the 15th century. His daughter, Nyai Subang Larang, who later gave
birth to Sunan Gunung Jati and the rulers of Cirebon-Banten, studied at a pesantren
(Islamic boarding school) in Karawang.<p></p><p>The spread of Islam in West Java reached its peak during the
time of Sunan Gunung Jati, who propagated Islam in the eastern part of the
region, while his son, Maulana Hasanudin, spread Islam in the western part and
Banten. The Islamization of West Java during the 15th and 16th centuries led to
the development of unique religious traditions among the Sundanese people,
especially in their observance of religious festivals such as Ramadan.</p><p>One of the regions with distinctive traditions related to
Ramadan is Priangan, the central mountainous region of West Java. Despite
undergoing Islamization parallel to coastal areas like Cirebon, the Islamic
culture of the Prianganese has a more distinct character. This uniqueness is
attributed to the region’s historical position as a crossroads between
Sundanese and Javanese Mataraman cultures since the 17th century.</p><p>The Priangan region maintained its Mataraman culture even
after it was relinquished to the Dutch East India Company (VOC) following the
Trunojoyo Rebellion (1674–1688). The noble families of Priangan, known as
menak, continued to practice the Javanese noble lifestyle, preserving the
cultural heritage of their ancestors.</p><p>One of the unique traditions among Javanese and Sundanese
Muslims is the practice of nyadran, or sadran, a ritual that involves visiting
the graves of relatives or ancestors before a specific celebration. This
practice is believed to have originated from Hindu teachings and was later
adapted into Islamic culture.</p><p>Another interesting tradition found in West Java is ngikis,
a ceremony performed before the fasting month of Ramadan in Ciamis. Unlike
other Islamic rituals, ngikis is devoid of Javanese Mataraman cultural
influences and is considered a form of acculturation between Javanese Islamic
and ancient Sundanese cultures.</p><p>In conclusion, the spread of Islam in West Java has led to
the development of unique religious traditions among the Sundanese people.
These traditions, such as nyadran, sadran, and ngikis, reflect the rich
cultural heritage of the region and its complex history of cultural
interactions.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-8381548432820802002024-03-09T01:44:00.000-08:002024-03-09T01:44:22.337-08:00Solihin Gautama Poerwanagara: A Life of Service and Leadership<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9EX8J7nw6EAR7Y2snh4MAhToCqw-_RsNc-BgKzw2sWm35-x4bFo6_qJTazShy1lej2-TYSK9ph_Uor5bTtK7U10oJweRw-aHl_r5429zoYBn6DyZzTJ_07seDPcSaUXW2tSFkH3jwfwNpY7yx9NpFvtp3uY3yx3A1EH0FLQx-3xTrO6F-gB41b82acZTz/s1024/https___asset.kgnewsroom.com_photo_pre_2024_03_05_20b9390f-2715-46f7-a3ce-e06a68c11b86_jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="576" data-original-width="1024" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9EX8J7nw6EAR7Y2snh4MAhToCqw-_RsNc-BgKzw2sWm35-x4bFo6_qJTazShy1lej2-TYSK9ph_Uor5bTtK7U10oJweRw-aHl_r5429zoYBn6DyZzTJ_07seDPcSaUXW2tSFkH3jwfwNpY7yx9NpFvtp3uY3yx3A1EH0FLQx-3xTrO6F-gB41b82acZTz/w640-h360/https___asset.kgnewsroom.com_photo_pre_2024_03_05_20b9390f-2715-46f7-a3ce-e06a68c11b86_jpg.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Solihin Gautama Poerwanagara, known affectionately as Mang
Ihin, was a remarkable figure whose life exemplified dedication, courage, and
leadership. Born on June 21, 1926, in Karangnunggal, Tasikmalaya, West Java,
Solihin grew up in a large family, the 10th of 13 siblings, to parents of noble
Sundanese descent, Abdulgani Poerwanagara and Siti Ningrum.<p></p><p>Solihin’s early education at the Europeesche Lagere School
(ELS) and Meer Uitgebreid Lager Onderwijs (MULO) laid the foundation for his
future endeavors. During the Japanese occupation, he continued his studies at
the Technical High School in Bandung, demonstrating his commitment to education
despite the tumultuous times.</p><p>His involvement in the independence revolution in Indonesia
was profound. As a member of the Student Army and later the Siliwangi Division,
Solihin displayed unwavering dedication to the cause of freedom. His
experiences during this period, including participating in the Peristiwa
Bandung Lautan Api and leading efforts to suppress the DI/TII movement, shaped
his understanding of leadership and resilience.</p><p>After the revolution, Solihin’s career continued to
flourish. He served as the commander of Kodam XIV/Hasanuddin in Makassar and
later became the governor of West Java. In these roles, he implemented
innovative development projects, such as transforming Tangerang into an
industrial zone and popularizing the gogo rancah system to improve agricultural
productivity.</p><p>Solihin’s commitment to public service extended beyond his
official duties. He was actively involved in various organizations, including
serving as the Chairman of Persib and the Indonesian Boxing Commission. His
leadership and dedication earned him the respect and admiration of many,
including Jusuf Kalla, who named his son after Solihin.</p><p>Despite his many achievements, Solihin remained humble and
committed to his principles. He was known for his populist approach to
governance and his willingness to listen to the needs of the people. His legacy
lives on through the institutions he helped establish, such as the Council of
Forestry and Environmental Concern of Tatar Sunda (DPKLTS).</p><p>Solihin Gautama Poerwanagara’s life is a testament to the
power of service and leadership. His dedication to his country and his people
serves as an inspiration to all who strive to make a positive impact in their
communities.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-9734844171639450082024-03-06T22:02:00.000-08:002024-03-06T22:02:53.445-08:00The Remarkable Life of Mien Soedarpo: A Journey of Resilience and Achievement<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG9JJZPlI-sYV8IcbXFj-6wWTYBEpbzIJPMoTlSSOGBF1RN-PQfLJndAkA-BOa6vAtfm3mzuiJGxNXA2JV9JNEeySPdnRaE4er36fDxjRLI5B1hVZIUJUzMMk-AQV6cxR-2wGyVkl99-TQQeatuuvugOafPZbHHTe8Ay2ilIch7pwrvg8SWdZ8kvJG73v5/s300/Mien_Soedarpo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="225" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG9JJZPlI-sYV8IcbXFj-6wWTYBEpbzIJPMoTlSSOGBF1RN-PQfLJndAkA-BOa6vAtfm3mzuiJGxNXA2JV9JNEeySPdnRaE4er36fDxjRLI5B1hVZIUJUzMMk-AQV6cxR-2wGyVkl99-TQQeatuuvugOafPZbHHTe8Ay2ilIch7pwrvg8SWdZ8kvJG73v5/w480-h640/Mien_Soedarpo.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br />In the annals of Indonesian history, the name Mien Soedarpo
shines brightly as a beacon of resilience, determination, and achievement. Born
Minarsih Wiranatakusumah in Bandung on January 25, 1924, Mien was the fourth
child of Syarifah Nawawi, a woman of strength and character who would greatly
influence her daughter’s life.<p></p><p>Mien’s early years were marked by tragedy and hardship.
After her parents’ divorce when she was just two months old, she spent her
childhood in Bukittinggi, where she attended a Catholic kindergarten. Despite
her grandmother’s fears of conversion, Mien’s curiosity and thirst for
knowledge were evident from a young age.</p><p>As she grew older, Mien’s education took her to Batavia (now
Jakarta), where she enrolled in the prestigious Canisius College. However, her
dreams of further study were thwarted by the outbreak of World War II and the
Japanese occupation of the Dutch East Indies.</p><p>During the occupation, Mien found herself working as a
secretary at the Post, Telegraph, and Telephone Office in Bandung. Despite the
difficult circumstances, she remained determined to pursue her education and
eventually enrolled in Yakku Gakku to study pharmacology.</p><p>Mien’s life took a significant turn after the war when she
met Soedjatmoko, who offered her a job at the publication of the weekly
magazine Het Inzicht. It was here that she met her future husband, Soedarpo
Sastrosatomo, a close friend of Soedjatmoko and an assistant to Sutan Sjahrir.</p><p>Their marriage on March 28, 1947, marked the beginning of a
new chapter in Mien’s life. Together, they embarked on a journey that would see
them raise three daughters and travel the world, from the United States to
Washington, D.C., where Soedarpo served as a diplomat.</p><p>Despite her busy life as a wife and mother, Mien remained
active in various organizations, including the Gerakan Wanita Sosialis (GWS)
and the Women’s International Club (WIC), where she served as chairwoman.</p><p>Mien’s life was not without its challenges, but through it
all, she remained resilient and determined to make a difference. Her legacy
lives on in the lives of her daughters and the countless people she inspired
throughout her life.</p><p>On January 16, 2013, Mien Soedarpo passed away at the age of
89, leaving behind a legacy of resilience, determination, and achievement that
continues to inspire generations of Indonesians.</p><p>In conclusion, the life of Mien Soedarpo is a testament to
the power of resilience, determination, and perseverance in the face of
adversity. Her story serves as a reminder that no matter the challenges we
face, with the right attitude and mindset, we can overcome them and achieve
greatness.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-91226893071070333462024-03-05T09:42:00.000-08:002024-03-05T09:42:47.308-08:00The Cultural and Historical Significance of Rice in Nusantara: A Journey from Antiquity to Modernity<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIZ8XkAW_4lEOiSWs2uMLeGVuv7O3fm9oIdMJOfmGTXBKaCS4-RvM72oDMn9ckDB3b0oS87fP2ByiBaIpSs5XfeksjA4lDMClD05My_BJ1EBnVpILqxTmK83WxqmNBnctwePZQk9H3dndrsOefSJNsqT125wYkStv9Q61U-Nk_xv4L8INgoVC6XLu4WLv_/s800/800px-KITLV_40091_-_Kassian_C%C3%A9phas_-_Relief_of_the_hidden_base_of_Borobudur_-_1890-1891.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="359" data-original-width="800" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIZ8XkAW_4lEOiSWs2uMLeGVuv7O3fm9oIdMJOfmGTXBKaCS4-RvM72oDMn9ckDB3b0oS87fP2ByiBaIpSs5XfeksjA4lDMClD05My_BJ1EBnVpILqxTmK83WxqmNBnctwePZQk9H3dndrsOefSJNsqT125wYkStv9Q61U-Nk_xv4L8INgoVC6XLu4WLv_/w640-h288/800px-KITLV_40091_-_Kassian_C%C3%A9phas_-_Relief_of_the_hidden_base_of_Borobudur_-_1890-1891.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Rice has long been a staple crop in the Nusantara region,
particularly on the island of Java. The plant, known scientifically as Oryza
sativa, is believed to have been introduced to Mainland Southeast Asia
alongside the arrival of Austronesian people around 3500 BCE. According to
Laurent Sagart and colleagues in their 2018 paper “A northern Chinese origin of
Austronesian agriculture: new evidence on traditional Formosan cereals,” the
rice culture that reached Nusantara is closely linked to the Oryza sativa
japonica variety. This type of rice is thought to have been first domesticated
on the banks of the Yangtze River around 6000 BCE.<p></p><p>The spread of rice cultivation in the region is closely tied
to the movements of Austronesian-speaking populations. These communities began
migrating to Taiwan in the 4th century BCE, bringing with them the practice of
rice farming. From Taiwan, Austronesian speakers spread rice cultivation and
other Neolithic traditions to Mainland Southeast Asia, including the Nusantara
region.</p><p>One significant archaeological site that highlights the
early relationship between rice cultivation and Austronesian culture is the
Minanga Sipakko Site in West Sulawesi. According to Nani Somba and colleagues
in their 2023 paper “Early Evidence of Austronesian Culture Spread in Sese,
West Sulawesi: A Review based on Archaeological Data,” the site dates back to
3500 BCE and provides evidence of rice cultivation. Additionally, pottery found
at the site indicates the use of rice husks as pottery temper, suggesting that
rice played a crucial role not only as a food source but also in material
culture.</p><p>The arrival of Indian subcontinent cultures further elevated
the importance of rice in the region. Shortly after the establishment of
Hindu-Buddhist empires, rice became a driving force behind large-scale
projects. For example, King Purnawarman of the Tarumanagara Kingdom in West
Java is known to have constructed the Gomati canal, as mentioned in the Tugu
Inscription (5th century CE). This canal, stretching approximately 12 km and
taking 21 days to complete, was built to enhance agricultural productivity in
the region.</p><p>The significance of rice in ancient Javanese society is
further highlighted by its integration into political and religious practices.
Rice cultivation was intricately tied to the concept of “sima,” or tax-exempt
land, and was managed by a complex bureaucracy. According to Taqyuddin’s 2017
dissertation titled “Reconstruction of the Archaeological Landscape of
Agriculture in Ancient Java (8th–11th centuries CE),” officials were appointed
to oversee various aspects of rice cultivation, including storage, irrigation,
and harvest, as well as tax collection.</p><p>The abundance of rice in Java led to the region becoming a
prominent rice producer. Chinese records, such as the History of the Song
Dynasty (960–1279 CE), acknowledge Java’s fertile land and its suitability for
rice cultivation. Although the Javanese did not cultivate wheat, the production
of rice was economically significant, with a portion of the annual yield going
to the king’s treasury.</p><p>Beyond its economic importance, rice held significant
cultural and religious value in the region. Roy E. Jordan, in his 1997 work “Tara
and Nyai Lara Kidul: Images of the Divine Feminine in Java,” notes that rice
was worshipped as a sacred plant associated with fertility goddesses. These
goddesses were later incorporated into Hindu, Buddhist, and Islamic beliefs,
symbolizing the sacredness of rice in the region.</p><p>In conclusion, the cultivation and significance of rice in
the Nusantara region, particularly in Java, have played a crucial role in
shaping its culture, economy, and history. From its early introduction by
Austronesian-speaking populations to its integration into political and
religious practices, rice has been more than just a staple crop—it has been a
symbol of prosperity, cultural identity, and spiritual significance for the
people of Nusantara.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-25679286601237658472024-03-02T21:04:00.000-08:002024-03-02T21:04:20.237-08:00The Untold Story of Syarifah Nawawi: A Pioneer of Women's Education in Minangkabau<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS_5VQbK5mWUiT4az7plVEdBxu8Q7OILvDVlDCi5So8CjUvA9rgNxSaSUVyquCDn_97r7MsZDI9-m1j6ahdxI47xdg8gGQ2MVc3k0N-5jg2e5QyRipvBmPQRXjcsQSxofV6GENwnpTnbTk-tnSOzrifaL6Ob5q-U3WYMJ8MV3h4qiCtXQJFw7aSuB9yNrF/s700/COLLECTIE_TROPENMUSEUM_Portret_van_Moeharam_Viranata_Koesoema_en_zijn_echtgenote_Mien_Nawawi_TMnr_60025975.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="489" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS_5VQbK5mWUiT4az7plVEdBxu8Q7OILvDVlDCi5So8CjUvA9rgNxSaSUVyquCDn_97r7MsZDI9-m1j6ahdxI47xdg8gGQ2MVc3k0N-5jg2e5QyRipvBmPQRXjcsQSxofV6GENwnpTnbTk-tnSOzrifaL6Ob5q-U3WYMJ8MV3h4qiCtXQJFw7aSuB9yNrF/w448-h640/COLLECTIE_TROPENMUSEUM_Portret_van_Moeharam_Viranata_Koesoema_en_zijn_echtgenote_Mien_Nawawi_TMnr_60025975.jpg" width="448" /></a></div><br />In the annals of history, there are figures whose stories
are often overshadowed by the grand narratives of their time. One such figure
is Syarifah Nawawi, a pioneering woman whose life and achievements are not
widely known but are nonetheless remarkable and inspiring.<p></p><p>Born in 1896 in Bukittinggi, West Sumatra, Syarifah was the
fourth child of Chatimah and Engku Nawawi Sutan Makmur. Her father, a teacher
at the Sekolah Raja in Bukittinggi, was actively involved in modernizing
education, including the adoption of the van Ophuijsen spelling in the Dutch
East Indies in 1901.</p><p>Syarifah’s thirst for knowledge and modern education was
evident from a young age. She excelled in her studies and became the only
female student in her year at the Europeesche Lagere School (ELS). Her
intelligence and dedication to learning were remarkable, earning her a
reputation as a bright student.</p><p>After completing her studies at the ELS in 1907, Syarifah
continued her education at the Kweekschool, where her father taught. Despite
being the only female student among 75 students, she continued to excel
academically, proving her capabilities in a male-dominated environment.</p><p>In 1914, Syarifah and her younger brother, Syamsiar, were
sent to Batavia to pursue further education at the Salemba Kostschool. This
marked a significant milestone in her life as she became the first Minang woman
to undergo the European school education system, a testament to her
determination and pioneering spirit.</p><p>During her time in Batavia, Syarifah formed a close
friendship with a Cianjur princess named Tjoetjoe. Their friendship led to an
unexpected turn of events when Tjoetjoe’s husband, the Regent of Cianjur, fell
in love with Syarifah. Despite their age difference and cultural differences,
they married in 1916 and had four children together.</p><p>However, their marriage was not without challenges. In 1923,
they planned to perform the Hajj to Mecca, but the plan was canceled, and the
Regent decided to perform the Hajj alone. This marked the beginning of the end
of their marriage, as the Regent filed for divorce in 1924, citing Syarifah’s
inability to adapt to Sundanese traditions and way of life.</p><p>After her divorce, Syarifah dedicated her life to education
and women’s empowerment. She served as the headmistress of the de Meisjes
Vervolg School in Bukittinggi for ten years, from 1927 to 1937. She then moved
to Batavia, where she continued her work in education and women’s empowerment.</p><p>Syarifah’s contributions to education and women’s
empowerment did not go unnoticed. She received several certificates of
appreciation for her efforts, and her portrait still hangs in the Panti Trisula
Perwari building as a symbol of her legacy.</p><p>In conclusion, Syarifah Nawawi’s life story is a testament
to the resilience, determination, and pioneering spirit of women. Despite
facing numerous challenges and setbacks, she remained steadfast in her pursuit
of education and empowerment. Her story serves as an inspiration to all women
striving to make a difference in the world.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-52647728408335412952024-02-29T22:25:00.000-08:002024-02-29T22:25:57.075-08:00The Untold History of Ternate: A Story of Struggle, Resilience, and Cultural Legacy<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdtd5ijrkdzGS9zNWP2rJNDBBDW5dtgMnbANcvbeHKaBdxKPn7MIKzFeFCH8bfqn0gQJmPSpkaNWTE1q522DWGh8KdBJ-pE5bWVLd9Y0TmP94_UuNsG1EVqXLL6VOKoFDLwhe5lbfHNPybfUMnLkrwlu6RY55DH7Hihry6VVk7jAQn-j1XcjUFGBywgqia/s256/download.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="256" data-original-width="197" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdtd5ijrkdzGS9zNWP2rJNDBBDW5dtgMnbANcvbeHKaBdxKPn7MIKzFeFCH8bfqn0gQJmPSpkaNWTE1q522DWGh8KdBJ-pE5bWVLd9Y0TmP94_UuNsG1EVqXLL6VOKoFDLwhe5lbfHNPybfUMnLkrwlu6RY55DH7Hihry6VVk7jAQn-j1XcjUFGBywgqia/w493-h640/download.jpeg" width="493" /></a></div><br />Nestled in Indonesia lies a city with a rich history that
stretches back centuries, deeply intertwined with the tumultuous narrative of
the Malay Archipelago. Ternate, known for its serene landscapes and vibrant
culture, holds a past marked by political intrigue, colonial conquests, and a
resilient spirit that continues to define its identity today.<p></p><p>One of the earliest chapters of Ternate’s history unfolds in
the 13th century AD, when it was a small kingdom under the rule of a king known
as Kolano. However, it was in the 15th century that Ternate began to emerge as
a powerful sultanate under the leadership of Sultan Zainal Abidin, laying the
foundation for its future as a key player in the region’s politics and trade.</p><p>The Sultanate of Ternate’s ascension to prominence was
closely linked to its strategic location and its abundant resources,
particularly cloves and nutmeg. These valuable spices attracted the attention
of European powers, most notably the Portuguese, who arrived in 1521 and established
a foothold on the island. The Portuguese presence marked the beginning of a new
chapter for Ternate, as they built forts and attempted to impose their
authority, setting off a chain of events that would shape the city’s destiny.</p><p>Despite the Portuguese efforts, Ternate maintained its
independence and flourished as a center for spice trading and Islamic
dissemination throughout the archipelago. The sultanate reached its zenith in
the 16th century under the rule of Sultan Baabullah, becoming a hub of commerce
and culture in the region.</p><p>However, the tides of history were not kind to Ternate. In
the 17th century, the Dutch East India Company (VOC) began to assert its
dominance in the spice trade, leading to a series of conflicts that culminated
in the Dutch conquest of Ternate. The sultanate was relegated to a subordinate
position under Dutch rule, marking the end of its sovereignty.</p><p>Despite this, the spirit of Ternate endured, as evidenced by
the Mardica community, a group of Christian settlers from Ternate and Tidore
brought by the Spanish to the Philippines. These settlers played a crucial role
in defending Manila against Chinese pirates and Moro attacks, showcasing the
resilience and adaptability of the Ternate people.</p><p>In modern times, Ternate has evolved into a thriving city,
embracing its cultural heritage while embracing progress and development. The
city’s economy is diverse, with fishing, agriculture, and tourism playing key
roles in its growth. Ternate’s natural beauty, historical sites, and ecological
tourism offerings have made it a popular destination for both local and
international travelers.</p><p>As Ternate continues to write its story, it stands as a
testament to the resilience of its people and the enduring legacy of its past.
Through centuries of struggle and triumph, Ternate has emerged as a vibrant
city with a unique identity, rooted in its rich history and cultural heritage.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-26881342261569951532024-02-27T21:24:00.000-08:002024-02-27T21:24:58.069-08:00Amrus Natalsya: A Journey of an Artist Full of Struggles<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglCDH7xgonwOQaOVI9O0m0J_sVu4N_d7MyhJhrK7oikY5knFLpUFfkw5UL8SXJ6Zk8NunHIUukGZMu4xTpysNuTHSRLIgfpkkn57G7K5srCKA2AL_v-ZdxCqBYZ-oex55OMZTODpR-erxI_5tR3ZY4CRgSxbEm98P_VxZygXs381NfFJKfhy8jqB3HCCRE/s720/amrus-natalsya-obituary.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="405" data-original-width="720" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglCDH7xgonwOQaOVI9O0m0J_sVu4N_d7MyhJhrK7oikY5knFLpUFfkw5UL8SXJ6Zk8NunHIUukGZMu4xTpysNuTHSRLIgfpkkn57G7K5srCKA2AL_v-ZdxCqBYZ-oex55OMZTODpR-erxI_5tR3ZY4CRgSxbEm98P_VxZygXs381NfFJKfhy8jqB3HCCRE/w640-h360/amrus-natalsya-obituary.webp" width="640" /></a></div><br />On that day, Amrus Natalsya never imagined that he would be
invited to travel around Indonesia by the Chief of Staff of the Navy, Subyakto.
He was invited for a reason. His task was to create a statue of the “Indonesian
Maritime Heroes.” As quoted from TEMPO magazine’s edition of June 30, 2008,
Amrus once descended to stroll and enjoy the view on the warship Corvette
Gadjah Mada. He walked slowly from the officer’s cabin to the bathroom wearing
only briefs and a singlet, with a towel draped around his neck, while the
people he passed wore neat uniforms. Unconsciously, Amrus walked through the
corridor, passing Sukarno, who was entertaining guests. “Who is that person?”
Sukarno asked the person next to him. “Amrus Natalsya,” he replied. Upon
hearing the answer, Sukarno just smirked.<p></p><p>Amrus Natalsya was born in Medan on October 21, 1933, to
Rustam Syah Alam and Aminah, the eldest of seven siblings. Amrus’s family
belonged to the middle class. In Ibrahim Soetomo’s book Amrus Natalsya: Carving
Ancient Ships from the Chinatown of Kota Tua (2021), it is mentioned that Amrus’s
father worked at the Horizon Cross expedition company in Medan, while his
mother took care of the children at home.</p><p>In elementary school, Amrus’s teachers were amazed by his
talent for drawing. All of his works were never graded below eight by the
teachers. “My first drawing was a map with symbols of mountains and streets of
Medan City during the Earth Science lesson (geography),” said Amrus in the
article “The Fighter” (2015). During junior high school, Amrus studied at
Muhammadiyah School. Indoctrination about the evils of the Indonesian Communist
Party (PKI) infiltrated his subconscious. “PKI is not a good party,” he replied
when asked by his teacher about his opinion on the PKI rebellion in Madiun.
Since childhood, he has thought of adding the surname “Natalsya” to his name.
The word was taken from his ancestors’ hometown, “Natal” in South Tapanuli, and
“Syah” was his grandfather’s first name. Amrus’s special interest in art began
during that period. He enjoyed observing the traditional Batak and Nias
carvings around him. He spent his time in elementary school drawing ships and
boats. “He always got good grades for drawing,” wrote Ibrahim Soetomo.</p><p>When the 1945 revolution broke out, Amrus’s family moved to
Pematangsiantar, North Sumatra. Despite the difficulties, Amrus’s desire to
visit museums continued to burn. “Young Amrus was considered a failure in
becoming a role model for his siblings. He loved wandering around,” recorded
the same TEMPO edition. It was this wandering that determined Amrus’s life
journey to become a painter. However, instead of agreeing to become a painter,
his parents wanted Amrus to become an architect. Hearing this, Amrus remained
steadfast in his life choice.</p><p>One day, Amrus secretly boarded a ship bound for Java. His
childhood dream of going to Java to study at the Indonesian Academy of Fine
Arts (ASRI), established in 1950 in Yogyakarta, flew away. He left behind
everything he loved to pursue his dream: his parents, siblings, and birthplace.
Amrus entered ASRI in 1954. His choice immediately fell on the painting and
sculpture department. It was a blessing for Amrus, as he directly learned
painting techniques from the masters, such as Hendra Gunawan, Trubus, and
Sudarso.</p><p>After some time studying painting, he felt bored. Amrus didn’t
want to be bound by rigid class schedules. He would learn if he wanted to. “Then
he moved to ASRI afternoon classes, which were intended for students who wanted
to become independent artists. The two previous departments were regular
classes taught in the morning,” said Ibrahim. Amrus’s ability to sculpt was not
separate from the role of Michael Wowor, his roommate. Amrus considered Michael
a great sculptor. For a month, Amrus learned directly from Michael before he
departed for Italy. In 50 Years of Earth Struggle (2011), the first statue, “The
Forgotten Blind Man,” completed by Amrus, immediately entered Sukarno’s
collection list in Yogyakarta.</p><p>In Yogyakarta, Amrus found freedom in art. He met and
befriended various painters, like Affandi and Sasongko. Agus Dermawan T., in
the book Heaven of Hendra’s Turmoil: From Revolutionary Bride to Iron Grille
(2021), revealed that Amrus joined the People’s Painters (PR) with Hendra. In
Yogyakarta, Amrus also shed the indoctrination about the PKI that had been
ingrained since junior high school. “The party that I hated, I considered to be
defending the people. Well, you won’t love what you don’t know,” said Amrus.
The People’s Culture Institute (Lekra) actively supported all activities
initiated by the People’s Painters. The massive promotion carried out by Lekra
for the People’s Painters caused Amrus and several other painters to be
nominated as cultural ambassadors abroad. “Amrus Natalsya and Batara Lubis were
sent to Austria to attend the World Youth Conference (around the mid-1950s).
When they returned, they visited Moscow, Budapest, and the People’s Republic of
China,” wrote M. Agus Burhan in the book Indonesian Painting from the Japanese
Occupation to Lekra (2013).</p><p>However, Amrus felt that it was unnecessary to stay longer
in the People’s Painters. After leaving, he, along with Djoko Pekik, Suhardjija
Pudjanadi, and others, held discussions in a studio located in a former
lime-burning house in the Gampingan area of Yogyakarta in 1961. The discussion
was not without results; they agreed to form a new studio called Sanggar Bumi
Tarung (SBT). “Their views on the world are reflected in the name [Bumi
Tarung], that life for them is a place of struggle between two opposites,” said
one of the writers in 50 Years of Bumi Tarung (2011). Meanwhile, Misbach Tamrin
(one of Bumi Tarung’s exponents) jokingly commented, “[The name Bumi Tarung] is
bombastic and sensational.”</p><p>At uncertain times, discussions on Marxism were often held.
Amrus strongly encouraged members to practice Marxism, at least to understand
historical developments dialectically. On the other hand, Amrus diligently
attended political courses held by the PKI. Sanggar Bumi Tarung was formed in
such a way as to be drawn into the ranks of revolutionary realism. They tried
to differentiate themselves from art groups that claimed to be followers of
socialist realism. “We do not follow or orient ourselves theoretically to
Moscow or Beijing. We adhere to our own theory, which is the 1-5-1 theory, as a
guideline for creative work,” said Misbach Tamrin.</p><p>Amrus’s artistic style continued to grow from the dialectics
of his fellow strugglers, who had to fight against stagnation. One day in 1961,
Amrus translated his anger at the injustices of power regarding land issues
into a work titled “Peristiwa Jengkol” (Jengkol Incident). “If my artwork does
not express the truth, then what is the meaning of art?” said Amrus.</p><p>The G30S incident was never expected to change Amrus’s life
path. The Armed Forces Daily and Berita Yudha newspapers loudly proclaimed that
the PKI was the sole actor. He realized that his position was in danger. Since
October 1, 1965, Amrus has had to move from place to place. “I hid in the Senen
and Tanjung Priok areas, which were full of brothels and lenong dance events,”
said Amrus in the article “Surviving from Prison to Prison” (2015). Amidst the
hustle and bustle of people, he became a traveling merchant to avoid being
recognized by patrolling soldiers.</p><p>However, Amrus could not maintain a nomadic life until 1968.
One night at his home, behind Trisakti University, Jakarta, when Amrus had just
finished painting, a few hours passed, and someone knocked on his door quite
loudly. “It turned out to be the neighborhood chief... He said, ‘You are wanted
for questioning by the authorities’.” Amrus had already guessed that the
incident would happen sooner or later. “They were from the Operation Kalong
team. I was on the list of wanted people because I founded Sanggar Bumi Tarung,”
he said.</p><p>It didn’t take long for the military to take Amrus to a
house on Jalan Gunung Sahari, Jakarta. There, Amrus was beaten, and
occasionally his head was hit with a rattan. “You are a Lekra member!” accused
the soldier while hitting him. Amrus couldn’t think long; instead of being
tortured to death, it was better to confess so that the extreme bullying could
stop. Although he had confessed to being a Lekra member in front of the
soldiers, Amrus still experienced torture for eight months at Kalong Headquarters.
Every night, he had to hear the sound of people screaming in pain in other
cells. News always spreads about political prisoners who died. After undergoing
torture at Kalong Headquarters, Amrus’s detention shifted to the Special
Detention House (RTC) in Salemba, where conditions were the same. “If you want
to urinate or defecate, you have to use a bucket. Everything [is done] inside
the cell,” concluded Amrus. From Salemba, he was transferred to RTC in
Tangerang. This time, he was forced to work in the fields under military
supervision. Amrus’s artistic talent was utilized by the military by
instructing him to work on several wooden statue projects.</p><p>His bitter experience of being kicked, hit, and slammed by
the military came to an end in 1973, when Amrus was declared free. For the
first time since 1965, Amrus was able to hold an exhibition at the Jakarta
Cultural Hall in 1981. His work sold well. At that time, he had rented a kiosk
in Pasar Seni Ancol. His kiosk was visited by the Mayor of Jeddah, Mohammed
Said Farsi. He looked at each of Amrus’s works. After thoroughly examining
them, Said Farsi requested Amrus’s willingness to create calligraphy statues
from certain types of wood. Amrus agreed to the request. Finally, it was agreed
that the project would be carried out in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. Six months was
enough time to complete the five calligraphy statues with the inscription “Allahu
Akbar.” “I am the only Indonesian artist whose work is displayed alongside
world artists in Jeddah,” said Amrus in the article “From Calligraphy to Umrah”
(2015).</p><p>In addition to painting and sculpting, Amrus began to write
a number of poems. He produced 300 poems, which were successfully compiled in
the Collection of Amrus Natalsya’s Poems. One of his poems, “Colors and Eyes,”
tells the story of the May 1998 incident. As a culmination, Amrus held an
exhibition with his colleague Misbach Tamrin at the Bentara Budaya Yogyakarta
titled “Two Fighters” on Wednesday, December 20, 2023. On January 31, 2024,
Amrus Natalsya passed away at the age of 90.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-73721372577417088382024-02-27T02:06:00.000-08:002024-02-27T02:06:19.450-08:00The Legacy of Minangkabau’s Istinggar: A Journey Through Malay Weaponry<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif5X17ZspMIkTM5DLc4IFnsaKPeODx3OZ-tl3mBLBGMdzv3vr8Sk0P_ewWnEWzlgRmpNnwlOMCCtZQDRqfjLbctFT8nwETpHnrg-pSd95WJWmBXOeRnpKUvYMMZOJSyZmbktah5EFlE1wlSDmO793xnORzGYGfr2ykW2Rr5CmYqMR-yPfKAM1bzsnrvmmw/s1200/1200px-Istinggar_Melayu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1200" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif5X17ZspMIkTM5DLc4IFnsaKPeODx3OZ-tl3mBLBGMdzv3vr8Sk0P_ewWnEWzlgRmpNnwlOMCCtZQDRqfjLbctFT8nwETpHnrg-pSd95WJWmBXOeRnpKUvYMMZOJSyZmbktah5EFlE1wlSDmO793xnORzGYGfr2ykW2Rr5CmYqMR-yPfKAM1bzsnrvmmw/w640-h480/1200px-Istinggar_Melayu.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />In the annals of ancient writers, we find notes about the
large-scale casting of cannons in the realms of Achin (Aceh), and it can be
ascertained that firearms and keris (daggers) are currently being produced in
the land of Menangkabau (Minangkabau). The quote from William Marsden’s “The
History of Sumatra” (1811) regarding the massive production of firearms in
Achin and Menangkabau is just the tip of the iceberg of arms technology
development in the Malay world at that time. Through this record, we can take a
sample of how two ethnic groups in the Malay world apparently had different
skills in the development of firearms technology. If in Aceh large cannons were
made under the influence of the Ottoman Empire since the 17th century, then in
Ranah Minang (Minangkabau) long-barreled matchlock firearms were mass-produced.
These firearms later became known as Minangkabau’s istinggar. Istinggar, with
an explosive head similar to a rope or cable burned on a match fuse, was first
brought to the archipelago by Portuguese explorers who began to occupy Malacca
in 1511.<p></p><p>The term “istinggar” originates from the Portuguese word “espingarda,”
which means “firearm.” Although this Portuguese loanword is famous among the
Malays in Sumatra and the Malay Peninsula, in some places, istinggar is also
called “senapang” as an adaptation of the Dutch word “esnapaan.” In Java and
some other Malay communities, istinggar is associated with the term “bedil,”
which is more popular. In Malay social history, istinggar holds a special place
in the hearts of the people. Although introduced in the 16th century by the
Portuguese colonizers, istinggar remained in use until three centuries later.
English colonial news in Malaya often reported how the Minang people smuggled
weapons into their colonies. As reported by T.J. Newbold in “Political and
Statistical Account of the British Settlements in the Straits of Malacca:
Volume Two” (1971), which recorded the situation in the Malay Peninsula in
1839, the Malays were considered to be lagging behind. Newbold stated that the
ancient technology of the Minangkabau’s istinggar was irrelevant to the
development of firearms manufacturing and usage technology at that time. This
argument arose because the Malays still used very simple materials, making the
firearms prone to exploding. Furthermore, its non-ideal shape prevented the istinggar’s
butt from being attached to the shoulder when the user wanted to shoot,
resulting in the projectile’s accuracy always being off-target or even
completely missing, according to Newbold.</p><p>Outside of Newbold’s notes, the Malays actually knew another
type of long-barreled firearm, namely the terakul. In the Western firearm
classification, this gun falls into the blunderbuss category. It was commonly
used by sailors sailing in the Malacca Strait. According to N.B.T. Ismail in “Warfare
in Johor Historiography: A Study of Tuhfat Al-Nafis” (2012), the terakul is
said to have emerged during the reign of the Sultanates of Johor and Siak in
the 17th to 18th centuries. He noted that this weapon was commonly used by
pirates, many of whom came from South Sulawesi. They clashed several times with
the Sultan of Johor in the Malay Peninsula and the Sultan of Siak, leading to
the adoption of their weapon in both regions.</p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">One
of the events related to the terakul was a naval war that involved Raja Kecik
of the Siak Sultanate in the early 18th century. According to the manuscript
Tuhfat an-Nafis, Raja Kecik (Raja Siak, 1723–1746) was defeated by a Bugis
sailor wearing chain mail armor with a terakul firearm.</span></p><p>The Minangkabau’s istinggar, which was generally easier to
make and apply than the terakul, became a favorite weapon among the Malays
during the colonial period. Despite the Malay people’s favoritism towards the
Minangkabau’s istinggar, the Minang community itself placed this weapon at an
important point in their historical trajectory. In M.S.M. Ali’s article titled “Minangkabau
Society’s Technology in the Padri War in West Sumatra” (2020), the istinggar
was used as the main weapon in the Padri War (1803–1837). This was not
surprising, as the Minangkabau people were accustomed to producing this item
around Payakumbuh and Bukittinggi. They usually exported these firearms to
neighboring regions, such as Aceh. Even the Portuguese themselves used them in
the 17th and 18th centuries. The export of istinggar production from Minang to
the Portuguese demonstrates the Minang people’s technological prowess in making
firearms.</p><p>In terms of culture, the Minang people placed this weapon in
their literary tradition, namely in the manuscript of Ilmu Bedil (Firearm
Knowledge). As mentioned by W.M.D.W. Hasbullah and S.R. Mustafa in “The
Manuscript of Ilmu Bedil as a Source of Ethnohistorical Knowledge of Malay
Firearm Technology” (2014), various aspects related to istinggar are mentioned
in this manuscript, especially regarding manufacturing techniques, usage
techniques, and its history of use. The authors of Ilmu Bedil often associate
this weapon with the teachings of Sufism that developed in Ranah Minang.
Besides Sufi teachings, the authors also mention the mythology of the birth of
this weapon in the context of Islamic theology. The following is a quote from
the manuscript regarding the history of the appearance of istinggar: “Then the
Prophet asked Jibril: O Jibril, how is the use of this gun? [Then Jibril
answered,] ‘Wa fī anfusikum afalā tubsịrūn?’ And in yourselves is your
light; why do you not know? Then Jibril returned. Then after that, the Prophet
said to his four companions: O Abu Bakr, Umar, Uthman, Ali, shoot this. You use
it to protect the religion of the City of Mecca. Fight against the enemies of
Islam with the accursed infidels. Then it was accepted by the four companions.
Then after that, Syeikh Syamsuddin wished. Then after that, Syeikh Abdul Kadir
Jailani wished. Then after that, the Minangkabau pilgrim Tuan Haji Muda wished.
Then Tuan Haji Muda wished to shoot this to Syeikh Abdul Kadir Jailani. Then it
was handed down by Syeikh Abdul Kadir Jailani to Tuan Haji Muda to shoot three
shots.”</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-75469148794816825552024-02-25T08:23:00.000-08:002024-02-25T08:23:23.701-08:00Rancaekek and Jatinangor Hit by Tornado, Wednesday, February 21, 2024<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnQCYJ5BcPnRmmgG17INQr1jJCpjTxPl44sx-3miNh7LcCOD5DqiaVjju3l4Ll2L-JW2eLBIuTNati5SzUZgEPyi_rHk9qbuaoXpRnZDqNQm-A9nAiOvDTwdJejUVRE0zqXt2SLa5D1Npa_Qcawl4bevJvtESMCPJmyWz1RzMS9kXO7PgUUt9m8_qG1sum/s750/Angin-Jatinangor-2597086877JPG-1478309067.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="750" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnQCYJ5BcPnRmmgG17INQr1jJCpjTxPl44sx-3miNh7LcCOD5DqiaVjju3l4Ll2L-JW2eLBIuTNati5SzUZgEPyi_rHk9qbuaoXpRnZDqNQm-A9nAiOvDTwdJejUVRE0zqXt2SLa5D1Npa_Qcawl4bevJvtESMCPJmyWz1RzMS9kXO7PgUUt9m8_qG1sum/w640-h426/Angin-Jatinangor-2597086877JPG-1478309067.webp" width="640" /></a></div><br />On Wednesday, February 21, 2024, the Rancaekek and
Jatinangor areas were struck by a tornado. The strong winds that crossed the
Bandung-Garut Highway uprooted trees and several billboards. The fast-spinning
winds also wreaked havoc on factories, the BORMA shopping center, and hundreds
of residential houses. Dozens of people were injured, but as of the writing of
this article, there have been no reported fatalities.<p></p><p>This rare phenomenon in Indonesia has prompted researchers
from the National Research and Innovation Agency (BRIN) to investigate further.
In her post on Twitter, Erma Yulihastin, a climatology expert at BRIN, stated
that the rampage of the wind in Rancaekek falls into the category of a tornado,
marking it as the first tornado in Indonesia. Located in a highland area
protected by mountains, the Bandung Basin has been hit by tornadoes several
times. The Sundanese people refer to this natural phenomenon as “angin puyuh”
(whirlwind).</p><p>Prior to this recent event, Rancaekek was last hit by a
tornado in 2019. While it did not cause any fatalities, the windstorm that
struck Jelegong Village and parts of the Bumi Rancaekek Kencana housing complex
injured dozens of residents and damaged hundreds of homes. Decades earlier, in
October 1933, reports from several contemporary newspapers indicated that
Rancaekek was also hit by a tornado, destroying dozens of houses and claiming
one life. Five years later, a similar event occurred in the Ciparay area, about
9 kilometers south of Rancaekek, where the strong winds damaged nine warehouses
in the market and injured many people.</p><p>Long before the appearance of tornadoes in Rancaekek, a
similar phenomenon occurred near the city of Bandung. In 1913, a strong
windstorm devastated the plantations in Ciumbuleuit, located 4 pals (6 km)
north of the center of Bandung. The newspaper Bataviaasch Nieuwsblad, dated
February 27, 1913, vividly described the event, stating that several factory
walls collapsed and heavy wooden beams were thrown near the administrator’s
house. While some employee houses were damaged, a few remained inhabitable.</p><p>Following its occurrence in Ciumbuleuit, the tornado
reappeared, this time east of Bandung. In early January 1922, the newspaper Het
nieuws van den dag voor Nederlandsch-Indie reported a storm in the eastern part
of Bandung. Although no lives were lost, the tornado destroyed the telephone
network, disrupting interlocal communication from Bandung to the east.</p><p>Although rare, the phenomenon of tornadoes in the Bandung
Basin must not be ignored. The historical records mentioned above provide
information that large winds hitting Bandung will be extremely strong and
destructive once they form. In addition to vigilance, educating the public
about mitigation is crucial. The government can collaborate with scientists to
create educational materials on what people should prepare for before a tornado
strikes. In an official release issued by BRIN, the Head of the Climate and
Atmosphere Research Center, Albertus Sulaiman, explained that interdisciplinary
collaboration and public participation can accelerate public understanding of
tornadoes, enabling early detection, mitigation, and adaptation.</p><p>Indonesia could perhaps take a cue from the United States in
addressing tornado phenomena. The U.S. government, through the National Weather
Service, conducts tornado research and provides early warnings to the public if
a tornado forms. For example, the Indonesian government could develop tools or
methods to predict the arrival of tornadoes or large-scale winds, allowing
residents to prepare if such winds occur. This tool would alert residents and
prioritize actions when early warnings are issued. The government could also
educate people on what to do if a tornado suddenly occurs, whether they should
leave their homes, take cover under a table, or prepare a room under the house
well in advance.</p><p>Efforts like these are crucial to minimizing material losses
and casualties. Rancaekek, like other places in Indonesia, has a relatively
high potential for natural disasters. Earthquakes, floods, landslides, and now
large-scale tornadoes are all potential threats. Now, it’s up to us to respond
accordingly.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-23831898480000362382024-02-24T01:39:00.000-08:002024-02-24T01:39:36.388-08:00Navigating the History of Canals in Indonesia: From Classical Times to the Dutch Colonial Era<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYZ9hBwE708myxM8TARw-M4wvGhLHy4qpYuCZfsIKOZTbz1TWS2_hY1SuRJqCoPWawbozmc1xhJpiJk1W5lF_u0j-XpHUKLc1i7Go1_apQ7EBWW4NLO3lFo1wQkiDjxctNWA7PuCrL3CfPHfOfUcB2DN3LV2vU8WsfvHF3lOA9GmXnHjIpnfY0LWxZneC9/s647/ESMERALDA-photo-Batavia.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="502" data-original-width="647" height="496" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYZ9hBwE708myxM8TARw-M4wvGhLHy4qpYuCZfsIKOZTbz1TWS2_hY1SuRJqCoPWawbozmc1xhJpiJk1W5lF_u0j-XpHUKLc1i7Go1_apQ7EBWW4NLO3lFo1wQkiDjxctNWA7PuCrL3CfPHfOfUcB2DN3LV2vU8WsfvHF3lOA9GmXnHjIpnfY0LWxZneC9/w640-h496/ESMERALDA-photo-Batavia.webp" width="640" /></a></div><br />Since classical times, the Indonesian archipelago has been
known for its many man-made waterways, showcasing the technical prowess and
perseverance of its people in engineering the environment. Examples include the
Chandrabaga and Gomati Rivers, remnants of the Tarumanegara era. In eastern
Java, there is the Serinjing River, a relic of the ancient Mataram Kingdom.
These canals were built to control river flow, prevent flooding, and provide a
water source for agriculture.<p></p><p>During the colonial era, the Dutch, who ruled Indonesia,
continued the canal construction. In the Netherlands, canals were used for
transportation, sanitation, and security. In Indonesia, the Dutch built several
canals in Jakarta and Semarang, some of which still exist today. One of them is
the Kali Baru Timur, or Oosterslokkan, flowing from Bogor to Jakarta, following
the course of the Ciliwung River.</p><p>The Ciliwung River has been an important route since
prehistoric times, serving as an entrance to Bogor besides the land route. Tome
Pires, a Portuguese explorer in the 16th century, noted that the journey from
Sunda Kelapa Port to Dayo (around present-day Bogor) took two days via this
river. The Ciliwung River served as the main link between the inland royal
center and major ports like Sunda Kelapa, Banten, Pontang, Cigede, and
Tangerang.</p><p>From the late 17th to the early 18th centuries, the VOC
(Dutch East India Company) expeditions to the southern part of Batavia resulted
in the discovery of ancient cities. The VOC then built villages around Bogor,
which later developed into districts. To transport goods from the interior, the
VOC constructed water channels, one of which was built by Demang Marta Wangsa
in 1739, using the Ciliwung River as its source.</p><p>This canal construction was continued by Governor-General
van Imhoff in 1749, extending the canal to Batavia, and completed in 1753.
However, the canal could not be used due to insufficient water flow. In 1776,
the government built another canal called the Westerslokkan to increase the
water flow of the Oosterslokkan by connecting the Cisadane River and the
Ciliwung River.</p><p>Although the Westerslokkan successfully increased the water
flow of the Oosterslokkan, the VOC’s plan to turn it into a navigational canal
failed due to irreparable damage. In later years, there were ideas to revive
this plan, but they remained plans and were never realized.</p><p>From this historical record, we can see the significant role
that man-made canals have played in the development of infrastructure and
agriculture in Indonesia, as well as how ambitious plans to develop canal
systems as transportation routes have not always been successful.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-2824263586727212102024-02-22T22:43:00.000-08:002024-02-22T22:43:15.659-08:00The Emergence of Local Narratives: Javanese Literature in the 14th Century<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAS7Lj2JxptpLeN-Nw4KQiy30X1IlQMEmKVRjAn3ah6AoviAljZpmyuitdMU-ARlGFX7-zzmPmFhXQ_vBPylCE-cTiwoWJyB6A9Wk1ASZqST4HAg55J0QCOP4GOWkw8gjBDQOZAD4fp0An3HezHcNHbBSP4Jhw4UZTSwowwVWq4VdI-bGZkuZnwL01aYmO/s1024/2017_07_17_29826_1500265011._large.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="678" data-original-width="1024" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAS7Lj2JxptpLeN-Nw4KQiy30X1IlQMEmKVRjAn3ah6AoviAljZpmyuitdMU-ARlGFX7-zzmPmFhXQ_vBPylCE-cTiwoWJyB6A9Wk1ASZqST4HAg55J0QCOP4GOWkw8gjBDQOZAD4fp0An3HezHcNHbBSP4Jhw4UZTSwowwVWq4VdI-bGZkuZnwL01aYmO/w640-h424/2017_07_17_29826_1500265011._large.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />In the 14th century CE, Javanese poets gradually began to
break free from the hegemony of Indian narratives that had long dominated their
literary works. While earlier texts meticulously adapted Indian tales, this
period witnessed a shift toward indigenous Javanese themes and cultural
contexts. These local texts continue to resonate even today, with stories like
Panji and Calon Arang still echoing through the ages.<div><br /></div><div>As the Javanese literary scene evolved, historical events
also found their place in the realm of literature. Although these works
primarily fell into the genre of puja sastra—literary compositions praising
rulers—one particular masterpiece stands out: the Kakawin Nagarakrtagama.
Written by the poet Rakawi Prapañca of the Majapahit kingdom in 1365 CE, this
epic work serves as both a tribute to King Hayam Wuruk and a detailed account
of his glorious reign and family lineage.</div><div><br /></div><div>Despite Prapañca’s claim that the purpose of writing the
Kakawin Nagarakrtagama was to “test his abilities,” the poem predominantly
celebrates the achievements of King Hayam Wuruk. Through vivid historical
narratives, it paints a vivid picture of the king’s rule, emphasizing his
prowess, wisdom, and the grandeur of his court. The poem also delves into the
genealogy of the royal family, tracing its roots and connections.</div><div><br /></div><div>Notably, the Kakawin Nagarakrtagama isn’t confined to Java
alone. Its influence extends beyond the island, leaving an indelible mark on
the literary landscape of the region.</div><div><br /></div><div>In the neighboring land of Tatar Sunda, another remarkable
text emerges: the Carita Parahyangan, penned in the 16th century. Unlike the
Nagarakrtagama, which primarily focuses on Hayam Wuruk and other Majapahit
rulers of the 13th and 14th centuries, the Carita Parahyangan spans a broader
timeline. It reaches back to the reign of the Sunda Galuh kings in the 8th
century.</div><div><br /></div><div>The Carita Parahyangan serves as a crucial written source
for the early history of Sunda Kuna. Its narrative begins around the time of
King Sanjaya, as mentioned in the Prasasti Canggal (732 CE), discovered in the
Sleman region of Central Java. Through its unique lens, the text sheds light on
the socio-political context, cultural practices, and dynastic shifts of ancient
Sunda.</div><div><br /></div><div>These Javanese literary works—whether praising monarchs or
chronicling historical events—reveal a rich tapestry of cultural memory. They
bridge the past and present, allowing us to explore the complexities of Java’s
past while celebrating its enduring legacy. As we delve into these texts, we
uncover not only the lives of rulers but also the heartbeat of a vibrant
civilization that continues to resonate across time and space.<div><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p></div></div><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-80657182947598851492024-02-19T22:14:00.000-08:002024-02-19T22:14:09.564-08:00The Rise and Fall of CGMI: A Story of Student Activism in Indonesia<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpuMQelIcK3T88m4bZ_P1kIpfLwNMDJptOjuPBFqta3glGL7LtGLUdNNJi4rCdkRlZl2wsMiC7uHxSgdF7pgdZTXqjF3bEJggQZ3PVc3_DyyMVIKXNkZLPs3xfJ2MD-8F9GJ3s7BGDJdWljpLt-YjFJOMcDLyzxu1JHYqPXmpHlXGpcik7jDrdPLGdwRCd/s1360/2019_09_24_79972_1569327889._large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="907" data-original-width="1360" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpuMQelIcK3T88m4bZ_P1kIpfLwNMDJptOjuPBFqta3glGL7LtGLUdNNJi4rCdkRlZl2wsMiC7uHxSgdF7pgdZTXqjF3bEJggQZ3PVc3_DyyMVIKXNkZLPs3xfJ2MD-8F9GJ3s7BGDJdWljpLt-YjFJOMcDLyzxu1JHYqPXmpHlXGpcik7jDrdPLGdwRCd/w640-h426/2019_09_24_79972_1569327889._large.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />In the tumultuous political landscape of 1960s Indonesia,
student activism played a crucial role in shaping the country’s future. Among
the myriad of student organizations, one stood out for its unique blend of
ideologies and its impact on the political scene: Consentrasi Gerakan Mahasiswa
Indonesia (CGMI).<p></p><p>Founded in 1956, CGMI emerged from the merger of three
regional student groups: Consentratie Mahasiswa Jogya, Consentratie Mahasiswa
Bandung, and Consentratie Mahasiswa Indonesia Bogor. Initially focused on
opposing the widespread practice of hazing during student orientation, CGMI
quickly evolved into a politically charged organization advocating for student
rights and social change.</p><p>At its peak, CGMI boasted a membership of 17,000 students
and gained recognition as a communist-leaning but progressive organization. Its
alliance with the Partai Komunis Indonesia (PKI) and support for President
Sukarno’s policies made it a formidable force in Indonesian politics. CGMI’s
involvement in the Perhimpunan Mahasiswa Indonesia (PPMI) further solidified
its position as a key player in the student movement.</p><p>However, CGMI’s fortunes took a dramatic turn in the
aftermath of the G30S coup attempt in 1965. Accused of being involved in the
coup, CGMI faced intense scrutiny and backlash from anti-communist forces.
Pressure mounted as students demanded the dissolution of CGMI and the expulsion
of its members linked to the coup.</p><p>On November 1, 1965, CGMI was officially banned, marking the
end of an era of student activism that had challenged the status quo and pushed
for change in Indonesia. Despite its eventual demise, CGMI’s legacy lives on as
a symbol of the power of student movements in shaping the course of history.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-32968855062144140562024-02-17T08:51:00.000-08:002024-02-17T08:51:47.337-08:00The Underwater Legacy of the Java Sea: The Battle of the Java Sea in World War II<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQAOC9cfzZ7NAf9sTwz6mFdBImJ3eHiMa0_FYtkJjNrXxaKSPBY_qyGLONoSdIq8uyremoZYmiBB2M7ed6TzTtkx76om7lh5UdH6sR7VKy-YAwUCeutFcFDsl3N71-6PTIrA7pGVijeOPiKLCWo83tOB1avCpk58qqi07SIUfcOm5klHxVYF1NpIelIztw/s850/Battle-of-the-Java-Sea-painting-by-J-van-der-Ven-1970-Navy-Museum-Den-Helder.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="590" data-original-width="850" height="444" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQAOC9cfzZ7NAf9sTwz6mFdBImJ3eHiMa0_FYtkJjNrXxaKSPBY_qyGLONoSdIq8uyremoZYmiBB2M7ed6TzTtkx76om7lh5UdH6sR7VKy-YAwUCeutFcFDsl3N71-6PTIrA7pGVijeOPiKLCWo83tOB1avCpk58qqi07SIUfcOm5klHxVYF1NpIelIztw/w640-h444/Battle-of-the-Java-Sea-painting-by-J-van-der-Ven-1970-Navy-Museum-Den-Helder.png" width="640" /></a></div><br />Under the waves of the Java Sea lies a hidden history, where
remnants of the past are preserved in the depths. From ceramic artifacts to
sunken shipwrecks, these underwater treasures hold tales of a bygone era.
However, many of these sunken vessels face threats not only from natural
deterioration but also from human actions, such as the rampant theft of scrap
metal from ships, especially those dating back to World War II.<p></p><p>One such case came to light a few years ago with the
disappearance of the wrecks of Dutch ships that sank in the Java Sea. The Karel
Doorman Fonds sent divers to assess the condition of the HNLMS Java and HNLMS
De Ruyter. Upon reaching the site of the HNLMS De Ruyter, diver Pete Maisle was
surprised to find no trace of the ship’s wreckage. Instead, he discovered a
depression on the seabed that hinted at the ship’s former presence. The sunken
wrecks of the HNLMS Java and HNLMS De Ruyter lie in waters near Bawean Island,
representing vessels involved in the Battle of the Java Sea on February 27,
1942.</p><p>The loss of these shipwrecks has drawn serious attention
from the Dutch government, not just for their historical significance but also
due to international norms regarding sunken warships. According to Dwi Kurnia
Sandy, Salma Fitri Kusumastuti, and others in their article “Permasalahan
Bangkai Kapal Perang II di Perairan Indonesia” (2020), sunken warships are
generally regarded as “war graves” in international relations, although this is
not based on any formal international law.</p><p>The Battle of the Java Sea was a significant naval
confrontation in the Pacific theater of World War II. It began with Japan’s
surprise attack on the United States’ Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, which
prompted the U.S. to enter the war, marking the start of the Pacific War. Japan’s
swift advance in the region, including Southeast Asia, led to reactions from
several countries, including the Dutch East Indies (present-day Indonesia),
under the leadership of Governor General Tjarda van Starkenborgh Stachouwer.</p><p>The Dutch East Indies declared war on Japan a day after the
Pearl Harbor attack, followed by Japan’s declaration of war on the Dutch East
Indies in early January 1942. Japan’s interest in the Dutch East Indies was
driven by its need for natural resources, particularly oil, especially after
the U.S. cut off its oil supply in mid-1941.</p><p>By January 11, 1942, Japan had captured several oil-rich
cities in the Dutch East Indies, such as Tarakan, Balikpapan, Samarinda, and
Palembang. In response, the Allies consolidated their forces to defend Java
from the Japanese. A naval task force, led by Rear Admiral Karel Doorman, was
formed on February 2, 1942, consisting of ships from the Dutch, American, and
Australian navies.</p><p>However, the Allied forces faced challenges in coordinating
their efforts due to a lack of joint training and communication difficulties.
This was evident in an incident in the Badung Strait on February 19–20, 1942,
where the Japanese successfully attacked and captured Bali.</p><p>The decisive Battle of the Java Sea took place on February
27, 1942, near Bawean Island. The Allied fleet, reinforced with additional
ships from Tanjung Priok, engaged the Japanese fleet, supported by air power.
Despite a valiant effort, the Allies struggled with communication and
coordination issues, leading to their defeat. The HNLMS De Ruyter, commanded by
Rear Admiral Karel Doorman, was torpedoed and sunk during the battle, along
with several other ships. The defeat allowed the Japanese to land troops on
Java in early March, leading to the eventual capture of the Dutch East Indies
by Japan on March 8, 1942, through the Kalijati Agreement.</p><p>The Battle of the Java Sea stands as a poignant reminder of
the challenges faced by the Allies in the early stages of World War II and the
ultimate sacrifice made by those who fought bravely in defense of their
nations. The sunken wrecks of this battle serve as silent witnesses to the
tumultuous events of the past, reminding us of the importance of preserving and
honoring our shared history, even beneath the waves of the sea.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-37358430948178377482024-02-14T14:38:00.000-08:002024-02-14T14:38:23.553-08:00The Fall of Jayanagara: A Tale of Ambition and Betrayal in Majapahit<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_CrnV6QvwLXryfFMHQ4wgZUtKZwvJTHUSu3dEqDC9jocGYRwl4UlWO3hJKD0GMhjWsyNWdDePt-OTNJAEkMpean8a3BZS0IsQmaaDMxsZOJAvE9aJaDAQMZeG9KnQ_TtlaXNjqhXz57axnGxfhslXR9F6AGP4Q5PViK_4iqXQqaKOeNDdtSl6DkyVGkr-/s1920/Untitled%20design%20(1).png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_CrnV6QvwLXryfFMHQ4wgZUtKZwvJTHUSu3dEqDC9jocGYRwl4UlWO3hJKD0GMhjWsyNWdDePt-OTNJAEkMpean8a3BZS0IsQmaaDMxsZOJAvE9aJaDAQMZeG9KnQ_TtlaXNjqhXz57axnGxfhslXR9F6AGP4Q5PViK_4iqXQqaKOeNDdtSl6DkyVGkr-/w640-h360/Untitled%20design%20(1).png" width="640" /></a></div><br />Once upon a time, in the ancient kingdom of Majapahit in
Java, a young and ambitious ruler named Jayanagara ascended to the throne.
Despite his noble lineage as the son of Dyah Wijaya, the founder of the
Majapahit Kingdom, Jayanagara faced challenges from the start.<p></p><p>The kingdom was plagued by rebellions, led by Arya Wiraraja
and other Madurese nobles who felt their political dues were not being met.
Jayanagara, unlike his father, was not as adept at handling these uprisings. He
struggled to gain the favor of his people and was seen as weak and easily
influenced by corrupt officials.</p><p>One of the main reasons for Jayanagara’s unpopularity was
his mixed heritage, being half-Javanese and half-Malay. The people of
Majapahit, especially the nobles, viewed him with suspicion and disdain. They
believed that his mixed blood made him unfit to rule, unlike his father, who
had married a Javanese princess.</p><p>Despite his efforts to portray himself as a just and capable
ruler, Jayanagara’s reign was marred by betrayal and unrest. He was forced to
flee his palace and seek refuge with his loyal general, Gajah Mada. Even when
he managed to reclaim his throne, his rule was short-lived as he faced another
betrayal, this time from his own personal physician, Ra Tanca.</p><p>In the end, Jayanagara’s downfall was attributed to his
failure to live up to the standards of a true Javanese king. According to
ancient Javanese culture, a king was expected to embody the qualities of the
eight directional gods, such as being charitable, just, honest, and firm.
Jayanagara, however, was seen as treacherous, unjust, and lacking in foresight.</p><p>Despite his efforts to emulate the great King Airlangga, who
had successfully united Java through wise governance and diplomacy, Jayanagara
ultimately failed to win the hearts of his people. His story serves as a
cautionary tale of the challenges of leadership and the importance of ruling
with wisdom and integrity.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-47337651430775283232024-02-13T13:02:00.000-08:002024-02-13T13:02:42.695-08:00Legacy of Strife: The Javanese Dynastic Wars<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlWuZQazM_AIIp8p-37HRc8cHfzeTUlqmDJCdD7-GOuXercDE7I1SeA37YzfeLXDhGjevlx-cZSoDiyJsd15Ns43ZYfR5Fy8DUjDttQGXkuycHUrsriV9446KdWp7eXu7ds9rf5Cq41kNVERZNBd1Aefgf-Lt9W8QpUYsLvO6eSkhxFAEEyx3tZ4TJg5QB/s1920/Untitled%20design%20(2).png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlWuZQazM_AIIp8p-37HRc8cHfzeTUlqmDJCdD7-GOuXercDE7I1SeA37YzfeLXDhGjevlx-cZSoDiyJsd15Ns43ZYfR5Fy8DUjDttQGXkuycHUrsriV9446KdWp7eXu7ds9rf5Cq41kNVERZNBd1Aefgf-Lt9W8QpUYsLvO6eSkhxFAEEyx3tZ4TJg5QB/w640-h360/Untitled%20design%20(2).png" width="640" /></a></div><br />Sunan Pakubuwana II had just completed his new palace in
Sala in 1744. The new palace was built to replace the Kartasura Palace, which
lost its sanctity due to the Geger Pacinan explosion a few years earlier.<p></p><p>From the palace later known as Surakarta, not long after,
Pakubuwana II organized a contest to capture Raden Mas Said, his nephew. This
policy was made because Raden Mas Said was considered to have participated in
the rebellion alongside Sunan Kuning and Kapiten Sepanjang during the attack on
the Kartasura Palace.</p><p>Unexpectedly, the bounty to capture Raden Mas Said was
accepted by Pangeran Mangkubumi, Pakubuwana II’s brother, alias Raden Mas Said’s
other uncle. Pangeran Mangkubumi at that time was promised land and a number of
subjects if he could expel Pangeran Said’s group in Sukowati.</p><p>To cut the story short, Pangeran Mangkubumi succeeded in
driving Raden Mas Said out of the Sukowati area and then asked for his rights
from Pakubuwana II. However, Pakubuwana II broke his promise for various
reasons. One of the reasons was the huge debt of the Mataram Kingdom to the VOC
(Dutch East India Company) due to the Geger Pacinan Rebellion in the Kartasura
Palace era.</p><p>In addition, Pakubuwana II was also instigated by Patih
Pringgalaya to cancel his promise. Pangeran Mangkubumi was furious. He then
joined Raden Mas Said in the rebellion that began in 1749. The duo leading the
Third Javanese Succession War were known to be very fierce and slippery.</p><p>This was at least revealed in the Surakarta Palace text, the
Babad Giyanti, written by the poet Yasadipura I and transliterated by Bambang
Khusen Al Marie (2018). The Babad Giyanti also mentions that Raden Mas Said and
Pangeran Mangkubumi were very popular among the people. Their struggle was
considered a people’s struggle, so sometimes when one of them was cornered, it
was the people who protected them.</p><p>Meanwhile, Pakubuwana II, who was ill because he had to face
his brother and nephew, passed away and was succeeded by Pakubuwana III, his
son. Pakubuwana III, who was raised to the throne by the VOC, was very
unpopular with Raden Mas Said and Pangeran Mangkubumi.</p><p>With the support of Raden Mas Said, Pangeran Mangkubumi was
then appointed as a rival king in Kabanaran and was given the title
Susuhunan/Sunan Kabanaran. After receiving the title Sunan Kabanaran and
attacking Surakarta, Pangeran Mangkubumi’s relationship with Raden Mas Said changed.
On several occasions, he showed his superiority over Raden Mas Said.</p><p>Not long after that, Pangeran Mangkubumi exacerbated the
situation. As mentioned by M.C. Ricklefs in Yogyakarta under Sultan Mangkubumi
(1749–1792), in 1755 he even agreed to the Treaty of Giyanti, which made him
king of half of Java. From then on, Pangeran Mangkubumi became the King of the
Yogyakarta Palace and bore the title Hamengku Buwana I.</p><p>This ignited the hatred in Raden Mas Said’s heart. Still
sore from feeling betrayed, Raden Mas Said’s hatred grew when Hamengku Buwana I
asked Raden Mas Said to return his daughter—Raden Ayu Inten, who had previously
been married to Raden Mas Said as a form of family tie with Hamengku Buwana I
as her uncle and father-in-law.</p><p>In 1757, Raden Mas Said finally launched a major attack on
the newly built Yogyakarta Palace and almost leveled the palace. The VOC,
knowing that it was almost impossible to eradicate Raden Mas Said on the
battlefield, then proposed negotiations. Thus, on March 17, 1757, Raden Mas
Said ended his rebellion by agreeing to the Treaty of Salatiga.</p><p>Based on this treaty, he was entitled to the title of
Adipati Arya, who ruled over a duchy. In history, Raden Mas Said is better
known as Mangkunegara I. After Mataram was divided into three axes, Yogyakarta
and Mangkunegaran apparently remained intertwined in Javanese history. The
relationship, fraught with hatred and love, experienced unavoidable dynamics.</p><p>For example, not long after Hamengku Buwana I and
Mangkunegara I ascended the throne, their deadly duo in the Javanese conflict
stage reappeared in 1790. Their alliance, as mentioned in the Babad Pakepung
manuscript, occurred due to the controversial policy of Pakubuwana IV. The
sunan, who had just ascended the throne unilaterally, gave his son the title of
Mangkubumi, which traditionally belonged to Hamengku Buwana I.</p><p>The Sultan demanded that Pakubuwana IV change the name of
his crown prince before he considered it a declaration of war. On the other
hand, Hamengku Buwana I was still determined to conquer Surakarta and reunite
the Mataram Kingdom. For the company, the conflict between Surakarta and
Yogyakarta was a reason to depose Pakubuwana IV, who was known to be close to
the religious leaders and was considered prone to new rebellions.</p><p>Because Pakubuwana IV remained steadfast in his decision,
Yogyakarta and the VOC together attacked Surakarta. On their journey,
Mangkunegara welcomed the attack and decided to join his former father-in-law.
The attack of these three political exponents on Surakarta later became known
in history as the Pakepung Event. After this event, the ups and downs of the
relationship between the Hamengku Buwana and Mangkunegara dynasties stagnated
in an atmosphere of mutual suspicion and even hatred.</p><p>In some traditional Javanese historiography sources, it is
said that initially the two leaders of these dynasties agreed not to unite with
each other, especially through marriage. The bright spot of reconciliation
between the Hamengku Buwana and Mangkunegara dynasties only occurred at the
beginning of the 20th century, when the relationship between Mangkunegaran and
Surakarta entered a cold war phase.</p><p>Mangkunegara VII, who was then in power over Mangkunegaran,
was considered to have rivaled the prestige of Pakubuwana X, who was in power
in Surakarta, because of his various movements in the national political
movement and efforts in Javanese cultural revivalism through the establishment
of the Djawa Institute.</p><p>Because of the competition between the two Solo monarchies,
Mangkunegara VII felt that approaching the Yogyakarta Palace had great
potential for strengthening his political power. Eventually, as revealed by U.
Hermono in Gusti Noeroel: Streven Naar Geluk (Chasing Happiness) (2014),
Mangkunegara VII decided to marry the daughter of Sultan Hamengku Buwana VII,
named Bendara Raden Ayu Mursudariyah, on September 6, 1920. Mursudariyah was
immediately appointed as the queen consort of Mangkunegaran and received the
title of Gusti Kanjeng Ratu Timoer.</p><p>The marriage that united the two conflicting dynasties for
seven generations became the starting point of the history of the birth of
cultural assimilation and art between Yogyakarta and Mangkunegaran. One that
can still be found today, both in the Yogyakarta Palace and the Mangkunegaran
Pura, is the Bedhaya Bedhah Madiun dance. Outside of the cultural cooperation
between these two political exponents, the offspring of Mangkunegara VII and
Gusti Kanjeng Ratu Timoer also became dominant historical figures in Javanese
feudal history, namely Gusti Noeroel. He was a flower of Mangkunegaran who
captivated Sukarno, Sutan Sjahrir, and Hamengku Buwana IX.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-66708461473026334382024-02-13T00:28:00.000-08:002024-02-13T00:28:38.714-08:00Legacy of the Minang: A Journey Across the Malay Peninsula<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqaJtZso7vA6hIUlkhlbNmQW2InRw-bdgcLz-z6EaQhOrjADzli9h8twe9iZN1XPa0z4iRcMozDqUN7eMXLYVp9WWPixNtRV2WfZZaMW3TKNJYWeoNed2B1PGOqGuwvK2mruLt1XTFD_dWNT26XExQt5-XNEyyHst3z8Pl9SXfWvqkp3KXSRIyu-F9ICrJ/s1920/Untitled%20design%20(1).png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqaJtZso7vA6hIUlkhlbNmQW2InRw-bdgcLz-z6EaQhOrjADzli9h8twe9iZN1XPa0z4iRcMozDqUN7eMXLYVp9WWPixNtRV2WfZZaMW3TKNJYWeoNed2B1PGOqGuwvK2mruLt1XTFD_dWNT26XExQt5-XNEyyHst3z8Pl9SXfWvqkp3KXSRIyu-F9ICrJ/w640-h360/Untitled%20design%20(1).png" width="640" /></a></div><br />Armed with the idea of their homeland as the origin and the
region of adventure, the Minangkabau people were motivated to seek their
fortune in distant lands, one of which was the Malay Peninsula. It’s difficult
to find written evidence from local sources about the Minang people being there
even before the Malacca Sultanate. But early European records, particularly
Portuguese, Dutch, and English, from the 16th to the 19th centuries, have
unveiled their existence and activities.<p></p><p>Barbara Watson Andaya, in “Recreating a Vision: Mainland and
Archipelago in Historical Context” (1997), indicates that without gold from
Minangkabau, which could reach up to 8 katis (227 kg) upon arrival, exchanged
for cloth from India, Malacca wouldn’t have prospered. Therefore, access to the
three rivers (Kampar, Siak, and Inderagiri) into the interior of Minangkabau
was always sought to be controlled by the Malacca Sultanate.</p><p>As the first European nation to reach the Malay Peninsula
and have had a foothold for almost two centuries, the Portuguese confirmed the
existence of the Minangkabau people, as mentioned in Tome Pires’ “Suma Oriental”
in the early 16th century. This source stated that most of the gold traded in
Malacca at that time was brought by Minangkabau traders. Subsequent Portuguese
records from João de Barros in “Decades of Asia” in the second half of the 16th
century reinforced the same reality. According to this source, just a few years
after taking control of Malacca, the Portuguese sent envoys to the Minangkabau
king in the Sumatran interior, who was said to be not yet Islamic, to ensure
the continued presence of Minangkabau traders in the Malay Peninsula.</p><p>Furthermore, anonymous Portuguese manuscript sources from
the late 16th century are consistent with the previous two records: Minangkabau
still served as the original land of precious metal commodities and various
promising agricultural products.</p><p>After the Dutch East India Company (VOC) seized Malacca in
1641, the involvement of the Minangkabau people was still frequently mentioned.
Leupe, in his article “The Orang Benoea’s or Wilden in Malacca, in 1642,”
examined a report from Jan Janz Menie, a VOC official in Malacca in 1642. He
visited the primitive Malay tribes in the hills between Muar and Naning.
Representatives of these indigenous tribes expressed concerns about the
presence of Minangkabau people [Manicabers] who brought their women and
children, distancing them from their ancestral traditions. However, in
subsequent records, these indigenous tribes collaborated and even intermarried
with the Minangkabau people.</p><p>Another Dutch record from the journey of a Portuguese
descendant VOC officer, Thomas Dias, to the Minangkabau interior in 1684 was
discussed by Timothy P. Barnard in “Thomas Dias’ Journey to Central Sumatra in
1684.” Thomas Dias was directly sent by the VOC governor in Malacca to meet the
King of Pagaruyung for friendship and trade cooperation. From his writings, it
appeared that the VOC governor in Malacca and the Pagaruyung Palace had
corresponded several times. The King of Pagaruyung also expressed gratitude
that his cousin, the Black King, had been well accommodated by the VOC in
Malacca.</p><p>Another significant Dutch source is from Francois Valentyn
in 1726. According to this source, in the early 18th century, the VOC in
Malacca still traded a lot of gold brought from West Sumatra through the rivers
in the east, although at the same time, the VOC had also established trading
posts on the west coast of Sumatra, particularly in Painan and Padang.</p><p>After the Dutch departed from the Malay Peninsula due to the
Anglo-Dutch Treaty of 1824, the existence of Minangkabau people there continued
to be a topic for discussion among the new ruling European power: the British.
John Crawfurd, in his work “A Descriptive Dictionary of Indian Islands and
Adjacent Countries” (1856), stated that all civilized Malays on the Malay
Peninsula claimed their origins from Sumatra and Minangkabau, and this
migration was still ongoing at that time. However, according to Crawfurd, this
claim was not entirely accurate because the historical literature of the Malay
kingdoms stated their origins in the noble families of Srivijaya in Palembang.
One state with a significant Minangkabau population in Malaysia is Negeri
Sembilan, a confederation of nine states almost entirely inhabited by Minangkabau
migrants, although some had intermarried with the native Malay tribes, becoming
the biduanda ethnic group. According to JM Gullick in “Indigenous Political
Systems of Western Malaya” (1958), in the early 17th century, Minangkabau
people had long been permanent settlers in Rembau and Naning, two significant
nagari (villages) in Negeri Sembilan.</p><p>In “A Geography of the Malay Peninsula” (1884), edited by AM
Skinner, it is mentioned that the regions of Jelebu, Sri Menanti, Jempol,
Rembau, Johol, Sungei Ujong, Klang, Naning, and Moar were initially a
confederation of Minangkabau migrant territories under the rule of their
respective chiefs. This confederation in the 18th century was led by a Yang
Dipertuan with a hereditary title bestowed by the Sultan of Pagaruyung. The
population of these nine states at that time was more than 42 thousand. Negeri
Sembilan agreed to be under the administration and protection of the British in
the treaty signed on July 13, 1889. The customs and culture of Negeri Sembilan,
similar to Minangkabau, have been extensively discussed by P.E. De Josselin de
Jong in his 1980 work “Minangkabau and Negri Sembilan.” The daily language of
the people there until now can be seen as one of the Minangkabau dialects.</p><p>Another hot topic in Malaysia lately is the early history of
Penang Island, one of the three Strait Settlements of the British (alongside
Singapore and Malacca). The common narrative has been that Penang Island was
opened by the Englishman Captain Francis Light as a gift from the Sultan of
Kedah in 1786 in exchange for British military aid. However, before the
British, some parts of the island were already inhabited by Minangkabau people
under the leadership of Nakhoda Bayan, Nakhoda Intan, and Nakhoda Kechil, who,
with the permission of the Kedah ruler in the early 18th century, settled in
Bayan Lepas, Balik Pulau, Gelugor, Tanjung, Jelutong, and Batu Uban. Even
Nakhoda Kechil is said to have assisted the English in establishing Fort
Cornwallis. The traces of the Minangkabau legacy in the form of a mosque in
Batu Uban, built in 1734, still stand today.</p><p>Professor Ahmad Murad Murican, in his book “Batu Uban: Early
History of Penang Island” (2015), elaborates on countering the colonial
narrative on the history of Penang Island. Many migrations of Minangkabau
people to the Malay Peninsula seem not to worry the Malay rulers, indigenous
tribes, Europeans, and immigrants from China and India.</p><p>In addition to constant migrations to the Negeri Sembilan
area and its surroundings and the establishment of several native settlements
on Penang Island, Minangkabau people also contributed individually to the early
history of the Malay Peninsula. Among the famous Minangkabau figures from Rao
were Mat Kilau (1865–1970), a renowned warrior and hero of Malaysia; Syekh
Muhammad Murid Rawa; and Haji Yusuf Rawa (1922–2000), who once served as
Malaysia’s Ambassador to the UN, Turkey, Afghanistan, etc.</p><p>Minangkabau traders and tin miners also played a role in the
early history of Kuala Lumpur. It’s no wonder that the first imam, khatib, and
qadi (Islamic judge) of Kuala Lumpur was a Naqsyabandiyah Tarekat scholar from
Tanah Datar, Haji Utsman bin Abdullah (1850–1919).</p><p>Other Minangkabau scholars held high positions in various
kingdoms. The position of Syaikh al-Islam (Mufti) of the Perak Kingdom was held
by Syekh Muhammad Saleh al-Minangkabawy (died 1925) and Syekh Muhammad Zain
Simabur (died 1957). Syekh Thahir Djalaluddin al-Falaki (1869–1956), a renowned
scholar from Ampek Angkek, had a broad influence as an Islamic reformer in
Malaysia, especially in Perak, Johor, and Singapore. In earlier times, Syekh
Ismail al-Minangkabawy (the bearer of the Naqshbandiah Khalidiah Tarekat to the
archipelago) also played a significant role in spreading the Tarekat in Malaya,
including Melaka, Kedah, and Perak. Many Minangkabau scholars, before returning
to their homeland from the Hijaz cities, also spent some time teaching religion
there, such as Syekh Abdurrahman Kumango and Syekh Muhammad Silungkang.</p><p>The influence of Minangkabau on the Malay Peninsula, which
is now Malaysia, can be seen in other aspects as well. The appointment of the
Yang Dipertuan of Negeri Sembilan as the first Yang Dipertuan Agong of Malaysia
shows the influence of Minang descendants in the country’s political arena. The
common use of the word “surau” for a prayer room in Malaysia originates from
Minangkabau heritage. Place names such as Ampang, Gombak, Kampar, and Kuantan
are familiar to Minangkabau people.</p><p>One of the famous Minangkabau cuisines in Malaysia is
rendang. This dish is commonly found on nasi kandar and nasi lemak menus,
although its form and preparation may slightly differ from those in West
Sumatra.</p><p>In terms of martial arts, several silat (traditional Malay
martial arts) styles that developed in Malaysia trace their origins to
Minangkabau, such as Silat Lintar, Silat Sendeng, Silat Si Pincong, Silat
Lintau, and Silat Harimau.</p><p>Although nowadays the arrival of Minangkabau people in
Malaysia is often for studying, tourism, and medical purposes, history records
that one of the ethnic groups from Indonesia has significantly contributed for
centuries.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-15070522337046083642024-02-12T11:46:00.000-08:002024-02-12T11:46:57.174-08:00Echoes of Jakarta: A Journey Through Time<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMr90uh1LmYQ9DlsHXx4MAJ2tNmBFViN3yLpXqwu7rF-rFhH4UfpkIA3g63IiGXALEHnFmlkwWwNsrOYA1CbJseihe5FZc6H_8LBhCoavXnoL_Swa3EUmWWAVcNt4YHU-f-6jrBE8w3dCp335-l8GptfdfkubrDzJH59wKSJizhyYfTVxT5tgzpT_4gnbg/s1400/Untitled%20design.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1400" data-original-width="1400" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMr90uh1LmYQ9DlsHXx4MAJ2tNmBFViN3yLpXqwu7rF-rFhH4UfpkIA3g63IiGXALEHnFmlkwWwNsrOYA1CbJseihe5FZc6H_8LBhCoavXnoL_Swa3EUmWWAVcNt4YHU-f-6jrBE8w3dCp335-l8GptfdfkubrDzJH59wKSJizhyYfTVxT5tgzpT_4gnbg/w640-h640/Untitled%20design.png" width="640" /></a></div><br />In the warmth of the Jakarta afternoon, Nurul sat on the
porch of her modest home, cradling an ancient manuscript in her lap. Sunlight
streaming through the bamboo slats cast a golden glow on the tightly bound
pages laid out before her. The manuscript held stories that spanned
generations, tales of the rich history of Jakarta, the city she called home.<p></p><p>Since childhood, Nurul has been fascinated by history,
particularly the history of her own city. Jakarta, a city rich with stories and
pivotal events in the history of Indonesia, includes prehistoric humans,
ancient kingdoms, and colonial eras, all intertwined to form the narrative of
this city.</p><p>The manuscript she held offered a deep dive into Jakarta’s
journey through time, from its prehistoric roots to the arrival of the Dutch
East India Company (VOC) and the formation of Batavia, which eventually evolved
into the bustling metropolitan city it is today.</p><p>Nurul delved into the accounts of the conflict between the
VOC and Prince Jayawikarta, culminating in the burning of the Jayakarta Palace.
She imagined the chaos and triumph of the VOC as they conquered the city, and
how that destruction reshaped Jayakarta into the new city of Batavia.</p><p>Yet, behind the triumph of the VOC, Nurul couldn’t ignore
the suffering endured by the indigenous people. For them, the change brought
new hope but also left deep wounds and losses.</p><p>As Nurul finished reading, the sun had shifted towards the
horizon, and the call to Maghrib prayer echoed from the nearby mosque. She
gently placed the manuscript aside and rose to prepare for prayer.</p><p>In the inner room of the house, Nurul’s father sat in a
rocking chair, calmly watching her. He knew of her deep interest in history and
felt proud to see how Nurul strived to understand and appreciate their cultural
heritage.</p><p>“Finished reading, dear?” he asked with a gentle smile.</p><p>Nurul nodded. “Yes, Father. It’s an amazing tale. Jakarta
holds so many stories we have yet to fully uncover.”</p><p>“Indeed,” her father agreed with a nod. “And each story
carries valuable lessons for us all. History is a mirror of the past that
guides us towards a better future.”</p><p>Nurul smiled, feeling the warmth in her father’s words.
Though Jakarta may have changed drastically since ancient times, the values and
lessons from its history remain relevant and precious to be cherished by future
generations.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-56099704582479185802024-02-12T00:48:00.000-08:002024-02-12T00:48:34.262-08:00Echoes of Resilience: The Journey of Joesoef Isak<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNudQQ56Qz4eYIOOdnrimyMIUCODmmmwdxneuKrEVe7pRPW4YMXp4nrvOzE9feiCCsHQAibVV7m6H3oEelULJKY8HYAPmelMu_RxpGTQWJ8qVhYjZAHV0NGu7c2W5MkgouC_zMu3jFb7_f1ExOvDw5R7xyjxhCxBOH6z9ZyLCb1Lf-9cmTrxvwIAyPMMD-/s2288/Millie001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1477" data-original-width="2288" height="414" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNudQQ56Qz4eYIOOdnrimyMIUCODmmmwdxneuKrEVe7pRPW4YMXp4nrvOzE9feiCCsHQAibVV7m6H3oEelULJKY8HYAPmelMu_RxpGTQWJ8qVhYjZAHV0NGu7c2W5MkgouC_zMu3jFb7_f1ExOvDw5R7xyjxhCxBOH6z9ZyLCb1Lf-9cmTrxvwIAyPMMD-/w640-h414/Millie001.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Joesoef Isak’s life has been a testament to his resilience
and unwavering commitment to journalism and literature. As the night draped
Jakarta in a cloak of silence, he lay in bed, the weight of his accomplishments
and struggles intertwined with his dreams. Beside him, Asni, his wife, shared
in the quiet of the night.<p></p><p>Throughout his tumultuous journey, Joesoef encountered
myriad challenges, from political upheavals to ideological shifts. Yet, his
determination remained unshaken, his passion for literature and the press
burning bright even in the darkest of times.</p><p>His involvement in the correction of Pramoedya Ananta Toer’s
novel, “Bumi Manusia,” marked a pivotal moment in his career. Despite the
looming threat of censorship, Joesoef pressed on, driven by his belief in the
power of words to transcend boundaries.</p><p>As dawn approached on that fateful Saturday, August 15,
2009, Joesoef’s breathing slowed, his weary body finding solace in the embrace
of sleep. In his final moments, surrounded by the echoes of a life well lived,
he exhaled his last breath, a testament to his enduring legacy in the world of
literature and journalism.</p><p>Outside, the city stirred awake, unaware of the loss it had
just witnessed. But for those who knew him, Joesoef Isak would forever remain a
beacon of courage, integrity, and unwavering dedication to the pursuit of truth
and freedom of expression.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-29077602267281741632024-02-04T21:16:00.000-08:002024-02-04T21:16:59.233-08:00Echoes of Change: The Nomination that Reshaped Indonesia’s Political Landscape<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRt0AS5rVv3QwctbXZSN6qMhTgaDUKJi7MXR42i8AznKGVFw3MxY06WWL2VcHq1_PXEC0e5k_z4kZ9MEldta-EKP1oWS3-qQX3rp0iMwuLeLhx8mqw6p6OaVIX1cdbBCdRYRbd6ObT7QEJ3Gh7ZW2iKGJKiMWfapNHIESAmAQAF6YLyQTyrs2NUg-a9GTQ/s1200/202306200656-main.cropped_1687219012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="675" data-original-width="1200" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRt0AS5rVv3QwctbXZSN6qMhTgaDUKJi7MXR42i8AznKGVFw3MxY06WWL2VcHq1_PXEC0e5k_z4kZ9MEldta-EKP1oWS3-qQX3rp0iMwuLeLhx8mqw6p6OaVIX1cdbBCdRYRbd6ObT7QEJ3Gh7ZW2iKGJKiMWfapNHIESAmAQAF6YLyQTyrs2NUg-a9GTQ/w640-h360/202306200656-main.cropped_1687219012.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Dipo Alam and Bambang Sulistomo, both clad in white shirts
adorned with an image of Ali Sadikin on their chest and the text, “He is the
best, we choose the best leader,” confidently strolled into a small eatery in
Taman Ismail Marzuki (TIM), Central Jakarta. It was Monday, June 20, 1977, and
they had invited journalists from both domestic and international spheres. The
purpose of the meeting became apparent as Dipo and Bambang officially nominated
Ali Sadikin as a candidate to replace President Soeharto.<p></p><p>Surprisingly, their move wasn’t fueled by a perception of
Soeharto’s failure during his reign since 1967. Instead, they admired Soeharto’s
successes and believed that Ali Sadikin, with his dynamic leadership style, was
essential for the acceleration of development. “We need someone like Ali
Sadikin to continue the success of Soeharto,” Dipo stated, as quoted in TEMPO’s
July 2, 1977 edition. Bambang added that they had no political agenda but aimed
to involve the grassroots in the political process, intending to stimulate a
new cultural climate in politics.</p><p>Their declaration caused a stir in the political landscape.
At that time, Ali Sadikin was the Governor of DKI Jakarta, and his term was
ending roughly three weeks after the declaration. Affectionately known as Bang
Ali, he has been considered successful in leading Jakarta since 1966. Both Dipo
and Bambang, aged 27 and students at the University of Indonesia (UI), had
carefully planned their action. Dipo, in his biography titled “Dalam Pusaran
Adab Dipimpin dan Memimpin” (2022), revealed that he wanted to ensure their
organization, Himpunan Mahasiswa Islam (HMI), wouldn’t be negatively impacted.
Hence, he brought in Bambang, who wasn’t an HMI member, recognizing his strong
and unique character.</p><p>Dipo and Bambang labeled their action as the “Gerakan
Pemikiran,” or thought movement. Two weeks later, Dipo met Ali Sadikin at a
DMUI event. Bang Ali questioned their motivation, and Dipo explained that they
aimed to break the political stagnation of that time. They wanted Soeharto to
be aware that there were people desiring an alternative candidate. The
conversation touched on the risk involved, with Bang Ali asking about potential
consequences. Despite the risks, Ali Sadikin agreed to support their idea.</p><p>In Bang Ali’s memoir, “Demi Jakarta 1966–1977” (1995), he
emphasized the significance of Dipo and Bambang’s boldness in expressing their
opinions. He stated that it wasn’t about the name being nominated, but the
meaning behind it. The incident raised important questions about the future
presidency, and Bang Ali encouraged people to inquire with the MPR.</p><p>A day after completing his thesis on February 8, 1978, Dipo
Alam found himself behind bars. In contrast, Bambang was not targeted during
the political turmoil of 1977–1978. Instead, Bambang’s father, Bung Tomo, and
numerous other figures were detained. When Bambang held his wedding reception
in June 1978, Bung Tomo was absent, confined to house arrest in Nirbaya, East
Jakarta.</p><p>As the political heat intensified, students from various
campuses, including ITB, demonstrated against Soeharto’s potential reelection.
Dipo and Bambang had paved the way, albeit individually and subtly, for the
call for Soeharto to step down. Dipo was taken to the Tajimalela Infantry
Battalion 202 headquarters in Bekasi, where he was interrogated by Colonel
Kiemas. There was a moment when Kiemas triggered Dipo’s anger, demeaning the
poet and playwright Rendra. This resulted in a heated exchange, as Dipo
defended Rendra’s protest poetry.</p><p>In August 1978, Dipo was released without charges, but some
DMUI leaders, including Heri Akhmadi, Lukman Hakim, Bram Zakir, and Sukmadji
Indro Tjahjono, faced legal consequences. The political landscape continued to
evolve, and it became apparent that the authorities were determined to secure
Soeharto’s reelection. Dipo was invited by Colonel Eddie M. Nalapraya,
Assistant Intel of Laksusda Jaya, to apologize. Eddie revealed that the
students were detained until the MPR General Session was concluded to prevent
any interference with Soeharto’s reelection.</p><p>Two days after his release, Dipo was summoned by Laksamana
Sudomo, the Chief of Kopkamtib, to his house in Jakarta. Sudomo, pointing
towards Ali Sadikin’s house, advised Dipo not to criticize Soeharto and his
family, implying potential consequences. Dipo, having experienced detention,
questioned the reason behind his arrest. Sudomo’s response underscored the
delicate balance between freedom of expression and the political climate at the
time.</p><p>Dipo later pursued his studies in the United States and
earned a doctorate from George Washington University. He went on to work at the
National Planning Agency (Bappenas) and, in his final public role, served as
the Secretary of the Cabinet in the United Indonesia Cabinet II under President
Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono. The succession idea may have faded from memory, but
the bold move by Dipo and Bambang marked a crucial moment in Indonesia’s
political history.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-68590705398593877182024-02-02T22:00:00.000-08:002024-02-02T22:00:37.569-08:00Resilience Across Decades: The Journey of Murad Aidit<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6KyhuC5BcD3lM2EPLpJdHbw-uYuGcreKO2EjninqTSraWFzPX5dD-YfI-RZ1Bl1XTh4lU5O4x89X3jFc2JFxr83CB-rnqztuOmitNc7A8foD7XeMeO4N3xH6yOZXh6gt0xiIuZ5MfqwlVUJ2jYpZ2uO1tP61xAdrefL8bNmKYocA3xZKZPkph_AuoUgrd/s730/profil-murad-aidit-adik-kandung-dn-aidit-yang-pernah-ditahan-16-tahun-di-pulau-buru-fflRzcbMr7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="487" data-original-width="730" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6KyhuC5BcD3lM2EPLpJdHbw-uYuGcreKO2EjninqTSraWFzPX5dD-YfI-RZ1Bl1XTh4lU5O4x89X3jFc2JFxr83CB-rnqztuOmitNc7A8foD7XeMeO4N3xH6yOZXh6gt0xiIuZ5MfqwlVUJ2jYpZ2uO1tP61xAdrefL8bNmKYocA3xZKZPkph_AuoUgrd/w640-h426/profil-murad-aidit-adik-kandung-dn-aidit-yang-pernah-ditahan-16-tahun-di-pulau-buru-fflRzcbMr7.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />One day in the year 2005, Abdul Wadud Karim Amrullah (AWKA),
also known as the half-brother of Buya Hamka, sent a letter to his friend Murad
Aidit, through his daughter Rehana Soetidja Amrull Rodriguez, during a visit to
Indonesia. The meeting between Murad and Rehana was described as emotional, and
Murad expressed his joy at finally meeting one of AWKA’s children. He conveyed
a message to AWKA that, before he passed away, he wanted to meet him.<p></p><p>A year later, in December 2006, AWKA visited Indonesia. An
emotional atmosphere prevailed as, after six decades of separation, he could
reunite with Murad in person. They stayed at a hotel and spent the night
sharing stories and life experiences. AWKA felt a deep sense of compassion upon
learning about the bitter experiences Murad endured during his imprisonment
after the political storm of 1965.</p><p>Their friendship began in the early 1940s, when they both
attended the same school, HIS (Holland Inlandsche School), in Jakarta. Nine
years later, they parted ways when AWKA moved to Rotterdam, Netherlands. Born
in Tanjung Pandan, Belitung, Sumatra Selatan, on August 21, 1927, Murad Aidit
was the fourth child of Abdullah Aidit and Mailan.</p><p>Murad faced financial difficulties in Jakarta during the
Japanese occupation, struggling to make ends meet after his family’s financial
support was cut off. He and his brother worked hard to earn a living, with
Murad selling newspapers and badges depicting national heroes. The hardships
led him to seek help from Pekope (Penolong Korban Perang), and he moved between
different places before eventually returning to Belitung.</p><p>Back in his hometown, Murad’s family was also facing
challenges, and he, along with his brother and another relative, was sent back
to Jakarta to escape forced labor. The journey was not easy, as their ship got
stranded in Pekalongan, and they had to deal with the Japanese military before
finally reaching Jakarta by train.</p><p>In Jakarta, Murad continued his education and became
involved in the struggle for independence. He faced difficult times, often
having only one meal a day. The situation worsened when Chairil Anwar, his
friend and mentor to his half-brother Sobron Aidit, left without notice,
leaving Sobron in a dire situation.</p><p>Murad’s health took a severe hit when he contracted
tuberculosis and spent years in various hospitals. Eventually, with the help of
a Swiss medication not available in Indonesia at that time, Murad’s health
began to improve.</p><p>After his recovery, Murad entered politics, becoming a
member of the regional parliament. He continued his studies in Moscow and
earned a degree in economics. However, his return to Indonesia coincided with
political turmoil, leading to his arrest in October 1965. Over the following
years, Murad endured imprisonment and relocations, and his family faced arrests
as well.</p><p>Released in 1978, Murad lived a humble life, working as a
translator. He sought justice for his brother D.N. Aidit and his family,
writing letters to presidents and requesting a review of the events surrounding
the G30S. However, his pleas went unanswered.</p><p>Murad Aidit passed away on March 29, 2008, at the age of 81.
His burial marked the end of a journey that witnessed a resilient spirit amid
tumultuous times in Indonesia’s history.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-28609215250170393292024-02-01T19:52:00.000-08:002024-02-01T19:52:28.370-08:00Abu Tahsin al-Salihi: The Sharpshooter Who Defied ISIS and Became a Legend<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidG2kaWHbtNGqe7JaQqkilih6Q1O3jqPb5VOiZuyDr-hY09ov8cTNAfCGJz3OHmmW8kpJwyIfLE_AAN-kwawzqe4ifPRkpC8KUeDplzM2DjWLtwf82MohWBgIylRW10oX_b8mo9DpXYJEgQfrnVZXYikxprZaOgLwVXDcRwjoJ3WqKPTcTj5mlTXXyywXv/s1688/h8qqa37tkk3a1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1688" data-original-width="955" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidG2kaWHbtNGqe7JaQqkilih6Q1O3jqPb5VOiZuyDr-hY09ov8cTNAfCGJz3OHmmW8kpJwyIfLE_AAN-kwawzqe4ifPRkpC8KUeDplzM2DjWLtwf82MohWBgIylRW10oX_b8mo9DpXYJEgQfrnVZXYikxprZaOgLwVXDcRwjoJ3WqKPTcTj5mlTXXyywXv/w362-h640/h8qqa37tkk3a1.jpg" width="362" /></a></div><br />After the overthrow of Saddam Hussein’s regime in 2003, Iraq
plunged into political turmoil. The new government struggled with weakness and
corruption, failing to provide basic services, especially in terms of security.
This vacuum allowed extremist groups like the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria
(ISIS) to thrive. The chaos culminated in June 2014 when ISIS launched a wave
of attacks, swiftly capturing significant portions of northern and western
Iraq, including the major city of Mosul.<p></p><p>In response to the ISIS onslaught, the Iraqi government
launched massive military operations. With international coalition support,
including from the United States, they formed the Popular Mobilization Units
(PMU), a coalition of armed factions predominantly composed of Shia fighters
with members from Sunni, Christian, and Yazidi communities. One iconic figure
within the PMU stood out as a feared adversary of ISIS: Abu Tahsin al-Salihi,
also known as “Eagle Eye” and “Sheikh Sniper.”</p><p>Born Ali Jiyad Obaid al-Salihi on July 1, 1953, in Basra,
southern Iraq, he adopted the alias Abu Tahsin. Growing up amidst Iraq’s
turbulent history, he witnessed political upheavals, social transformations,
and the looming specter of conflict. In his teenage years, he traveled to
Kuwait, where he herded goats and sheep to earn money. It was during this time
that he acquired a French rifle, using it for hunting rabbits and houbara
birds.</p><p>Abu Tahsin honed his skills further by undergoing hunting
training in the Soviet Union in the early 1970s, becoming the second-best
graduate. His life experiences extended beyond the horrors inflicted by ISIS,
with his gaze spanning the Arab-Israeli War of 1973, the Iran-Iraq conflict
(1980–1988), and the Gulf War shocks of the 1990s.</p><p>Abu Tahsin decided to take up arms against the brutal ISIS
forces, transitioning from a village farmer to a precise instrument in the
Brigade Ali al-Akbar of the PMU. His commitment to defending Iraq led him to
the forefront of the conflict, claiming nearly 400 ISIS militant lives. His
relentless pursuit of extremists showcased not just his marksmanship but also
his unwavering dedication to his homeland.</p><p>Abu Tahsin wasn’t merely a war hero; outside the armed
conflict, he was a father, friend, and mentor whose influence transcended the
boundaries of warfare. His wisdom, compassion, and steadfast commitment to his
principles left an indelible impression on his eleven beloved children—six sons
and five daughters.</p><p>In his daily life, Abu Tahsin was inseparable from his Steyr
HS.50 caliber rifle, an Austrian-made anti-material bolt-action sniper known
for its accuracy and formidable power. His calm demeanor and focused mind, as
captured in videos released by Al Sura, showcased his ability to target enemies
with precision.</p><p>On September 29, 2017, at the age of 64, Abu Tahsin
al-Salihi’s rifle fell silent in Hawija, northwest Iraq. His last shot wasn’t
aimed at an enemy but at the jaws of death itself. Despite doubling his target
count to 384 by killing four ISIS fighters that day, he, along with two other
snipers, was tragically surrounded and killed in the operation.</p><p>Abu Tahsin’s departure resonated across Iraq. Thousands
attended his funeral in Najaf, and his posters adorned the walls and streets of
Iraqi cities. Supporters even enshrined his weapon in a museum, immortalizing
the legacy of a man who, through decades of conflict, became a symbol of Iraq’s
resistance against terror.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7326787409003120890.post-45701664643618587772024-01-28T22:25:00.000-08:002024-01-28T22:25:30.342-08:00Unveiling the Historical Roots of the Term "Barbarian" and its Evolving Meanings: From Ancient Greece to Real Madrid<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5l68dUjOK2RKxC7HhcyLjUpCe0ui-HbdEA5TXwhS1-NxMabInRf6mVs2mf_lrTJPtE8Zmv5LW-PGEZi91cteH3Qhfe3feTCxFHEy6693EAzf8ElTSMYRJ2Iaub6BT26LnGr-0m_e-z2V5KXj2bTfUBrHmJXRqw04AbWx41Wsdx5WOvugNmmdmsktO2XIm/s945/berber.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="570" data-original-width="945" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5l68dUjOK2RKxC7HhcyLjUpCe0ui-HbdEA5TXwhS1-NxMabInRf6mVs2mf_lrTJPtE8Zmv5LW-PGEZi91cteH3Qhfe3feTCxFHEy6693EAzf8ElTSMYRJ2Iaub6BT26LnGr-0m_e-z2V5KXj2bTfUBrHmJXRqw04AbWx41Wsdx5WOvugNmmdmsktO2XIm/w640-h386/berber.webp" width="640" /></a></div><br />In recent years, the term “barbarian” has become
increasingly prevalent, particularly among Gen Z, to describe something
perceived as unusual, beyond limits, or excessive. In the context of football,
players like Kepler Laveran Lime Ferreira, also known as Pepe from Real Madrid,
are often labeled as the “most barbaric football players in the world.”
However, it’s important to note that the meaning of the word “barbarian” has
undergone changes over time, and its origins can be traced back to Ancient
Greece.<p></p><p>In the Indonesian Dictionary (Kamus Besar Bahasa Indonesia,
or KBBI), “barbar” is defined as an adjective meaning “uncivilized.” This
aligns with the English meaning of “barbaric,” which signifies “cruel, brutal,
and not what is expected from educated and respectful individuals.” However,
the meaning has shifted throughout history, and this interpretation is not
always negative.</p><p>The term “barbarian” originates from the Greek language,
specifically βάρβαρος (bárbaros), which means “chatterer.” Greeks perceived the
speech of other nations as onomatopoeic “barbarbar,” and the word evolved into
bárbaros. When the Romans borrowed the term, pronouncing it as barbaria, a
shift in meaning began.</p><p>The shift in the meaning of the word “barbarian” occurred
after the Persian Wars (492-449 BC), during which Greece engaged in conflict
with the Persian Empire. Initially, the Greeks referred to nations other than
their own as “bárbaros” without a negative connotation. However, after a series
of battles with the Persian forces, the term’s meaning changed to an anti-Greek
sentiment, characterizing the Persians as greedy, cruel, and uncivilized.</p><p>The Romans also contributed their perspective on the term “barbarian.”
They regarded Barbaria as any nation that did not adopt Greco-Roman culture,
especially those considered a threat to their existence. The Roman historian
Tacitus, in his work “Germania,” depicted the Germanic people as those who
preferred war over agriculture.</p><p>The migration of barbarian tribes, known as the Barbarian
Invasions, occurred in the late 4th century AD, marking the beginning of the
decline of the Roman Empire. This event involved tribes such as the Germanic,
Hun, Avar, and Slavic peoples and signaled a turbulent period leading to the
collapse of the Roman order in many provinces.</p><p>From ancient Greece to Real Madrid, the journey of the word “barbarian”
reflects a complex shift in meaning throughout history. In the context of
modern football, the term may be used more lightly to describe aggressive or
rough players. However, it is crucial to understand its historical roots and
how these changes in meaning reflect shifts in societal views towards different
cultures and adversaries.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Mild Reportshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01084178896842992521noreply@blogger.com0