|
West
Java and Banten has long prided itself on it's strong religious
devotion. Back in the mid to late 1800's large numbers of the faithful
headed to Arabia to complete the haj. Some stayed awhile, absorbing the
stories and traditions of their faith and comparing them with the
realities of a Dutch ruled homeland. They felt far from their faith in
more ways than one and when they returned they found an audience
receptive to their belief in a more equal Islamic society and getting
rid of the Dutch and their oppresive attitudes.
One
such returnee was Abdul Karim who in the mid 1870's attracted quite a
following among the faithful. He was a fluent reader of Arabic and
additionally he had been in trouble with the colonial overlords and
these two factors gave him added street cred if you like. What upset the
Dutch further was the message he started preached. An apocolyptic vision
of fore and brimstone and from the ruins the Mahdi, the Last Iman, would
arise and save the world. his talk of oppressive infidel rulers touched
a raw nerve among the sturdy folk of rural Banten buckling under the
Culture system designed by the Dutch to increase their tax incomes and
help impoverish the locals. He told of floods, diseased cattle, blood
coloured rain and volcanic eruptions. In 1876 he returned to Arabia but
he was fondly remembered. In 1883 his message was recalled as Krakatau
exploded in the nearby Sunda Straits killing some 36,000 people from
Anyer to Batavia (of course many also died on nearby Sumatra.) It was as
he predicted as tsunamis flooded the lands and cattle died as the
volcano blew itself off the map and into folklore.
For
the believers the end was nigh, now was the time to rise up against the
unfaithful and reclaim their lands to welcome the Last Iman. There is a
strong superstitious streak among some of the people in this part of the
world and they believed then that the volcanic explosion was a warning
from god to return to the true faithful path. rather like today where
some voices have mumbled the Aceh tsunami was God's punishment for the
sins of Bali (it seems superstition expands with people's horizons.)
The
first response to this call for holy war against the foreign infidel
came weeks aftee Krakatau had sated herself. A Dutch soldier was
shopping in a market at Serang, the junction on the Jalan Tol you exit
to reach Banten today. A white robbed bearded figure, probably not
unlike the images we see daily on our TV screens, attacked the soldier
and hacked him to death. A few weeks later a Bantenese soldier was
attacked and wounded.
5
years later, July 1888 they had grown in confidence and numbers.
Emboldened they isolated the village of Sanedja, near modern day Cilegon
and went for the infidel Europeans and their lackeys. What followed was
a bloodbath as the Europeans were mercilessly hunted down and murdered
by bullet, boulder or blade. From one end of the village to another
people were chased and slaughtered with the exception of a clerk's wife.
She swore to convert to Islam and was released despite the Koran's
exhortation that there 'be no compulsion in religion.' 24 non believers
were slain that day.
As
with holy warriors everywhere they believed their faith was defence
alone against whatever their enemy may through against them. But the
Dutch soldiers who arrived were no respecters of such blind allegiance;
anyway they brought with them the latest in rifles. A repeater that did
away with the tiresome task of reloading after each shot. It was a
turkey shoot. The parang and rocks of the faithful were no match against
the steady hail of burning steel that tore into the white robbed
warriors. As the smoke cleared 30 of them lay dead in the dust, a
further 13 injured. The rebellion, if that was what it was fizzled out.
The Dutch held an inquiry and carried out some reforms but the Sanedja
slipped soon from the public conciousness.
Sources:
Krakatoa - Simon Winchester |
