In January 2019, I revisited Candi Merak on a driving trip around Klaten regency . This 12-metre high Hindu temple from the kingdom of Mataram Kuno is possibly one of the oldest temples in the Yogyakarta-Klaten area, dating from either the ninth or tenth century. It has many archaic features such as kudu heads, which are associated with the earliest phase of temple-building in Java. While it is clearly a Hindu temple, it incorporates some features more commonly found on Buddhist temples, such as a torus base. This suggests that during the heyday of Mataram Kuno, Hindu architecture began to borrow motifs and features from Buddhist shrines, with Candi Merak being one of the earliest examples. Overall, the focus of this post will mostly be highlighting some of the sculptural highlights from this transitional temple.
The western wall features a Ganesha niche
The first photo shows the western side of the temple. In this shot you can see the torus-styled base, which had previously been associated with Buddhist temples in Central Java. The highlight of the western wall is a Ganesha niche. While the carving of the elephant-headed god is damaged, with part of his trunk missing, it would be impossible to confuse the identity of the deity. It is also worth noting the lotus pedestal on which the god is sitting: another borrowing from the Buddhist religion. The niche is flanked by two wall carvings of other Hindu deities.
The goddess Durga slaying the demon buffalo
The northern wall features a similar niche, this time featuring the goddess Durga in her ferocious aspect. The depiction on the goddess here is especially impressive. The four-armed deity is shown with a wide-hipped, full-figured form, her body covered with a thin, diaphanous robe. She appears to wear elaborate ornaments in the form of heavy, metallic anklets and decorative arm-bands. Unfortunately, her head has been lost to looters. The goddess is standing on top of a bull, showing her in the incarnation of the slayer of the bull demon. This beautiful carving is one of the highlights of a visit to Candi Merak.
A beautiful bas-relief on the side of the main staircase
While many previous articles have described the makhara ornaments on the staircase at Candi Merak, much less attention has been given to the delightful bas-relief on the side of the staircase. It is centred around a depiction of the cosmic tree, which is shown here with garlands hanging from its lowermost branches. On the left hand side, there is a well-preserved depiction of a water jug, which is possibly a symbol of fertility and life. On the right-hand side, there is a standing deity represented with robes and heavy jewelry.
There are kudu heads in horseshoe niches on the roof of the temple
The final feature worth inspecting in detail is the roof of the temple. It has a pyramidal shape, consisting of three levels, each one more narrow than the last. The most interesting feature here is the present of small kudu heads inside horseshoe-shaped niches. This design recalls the iconoclastic temple of Candi Bima at Dieng. In later years, this motif was to fall out of popularity in Java. Intriguingly, the presence of kudu heads on Candi Merak suggests some degree of cultural exchange or continuity between the Dieng Plateau temples and the earliest Hindu shrines of Mataram Kuno. In incorporating elements from both the Shivaite temples of Dieng and also those from the neighboring Buddhist temples of the Prambanan Plain, Candi Merak created an interesting hybrid which repays careful examination.
For the third and final post in a series of the lesser-known temples of the Dieng Plateau, I am going to focus on Candi Bima, which is certainly the most unorthodox of the district’s temples. Both in terms of its design and decoration, it varies sharply from the other temples in the vicinity, raising some interesting questions about the early history of Hinduism in Java.
The form of Candi Bima is very different from the temples of the nearby Arjuna Complex. Rather than the tiered, pyramidal roofs of Candi Arjuna and Candi Srikandi, we have a curvilinear form which seems to shoot upwards from the temple body. It brings to mind the temples or Odisha (formerly Orissa) in Eastern India rather than those from Southern India. In other words, Candi Bima references an architectural tradition which was quite distinct from that of the other candis on the plateau. It seems probable that cultural or trading links existed between the peoples of ancient Orissa and Java but this remains speculative. What can be more safely said is that Candi Bima represents a style of architecture which found an early toehold in Java but ultimately lost out in popularity to the pyramidal style of Candi Arjuna. This makes it something of a cul-de-sac in the development of the Javanese temple.
Candi Bima has a towering superstructure with rich ornamentation
Its separateness from other Dieng temples is reflected not only in the curvilinear form of the roof but also in its rich and varied decoration. Like other temples on the Dieng Plateau, it sports kala heads over its niches, but in other aspects it diverges quite markedly. Above the kala niches there are two bands of decorative detail- the lowermost one shows draped cloth and the uppermost one shows a row of dentils. Both of these features are most unusual in the Javanese architectural tradition. However, it is the decoration on the roof which its the temple’s remarkable feature.
The first thing you are likely to notice in looking at the roof is the heads which peer down from the roof, each of them contained in horseshoe arches. These heads represent the Hindu divinity Shiva and are known as kudu heads. For the traveler who is accustomed to Shiva being represented only in the form of linga, this can come as a surprise. While kudu heads are also present on some temples in the Yogyakarta such as Candi Ijo and Candi Merak, Candi Bima is the sole repository of them at Dieng. Yet there are a number of other unusual details on the roof.
The roof of Candi Bima features rich and varied decorative details
One of the more striking is the presence of amalakas on the roof. These are a kind of ribbed capital, two fine examples of which survive on the western side of the temple. Just below them can be seen a couple of pots known as kalasa. These pots symbolize the abundance of the universe. They are worth comparing with the khumba pots which adorn boundary stones from North-Eastern Thailand during the same period. A final detail worth noting here is the preponderance of lotus petal motifs which can be found both in bands and around the edges of kudu arches. While the lotus blossom is more typically associated with Buddhism, in Southeast Asia the use of hybrid imagery is quite common.
The main entrance features a kala head and floral motifs
In conclusion, Candi Bima is one of the most unique and idiosyncratic of early Javanese temples. Its elongated silhouette calls to mind the temples of Odissa rather than the pyramidal rooflines of early South India. Furthermore, it boasts a wealth of unusual decorative details- most notably a collection of kudu heads- which sets it apart from neighbouring temples. It represents a distinct chapter in early Javanese temple art which hints at the varied cultural links which informed its Hindu architecture.
Candi Gatotkaca is not one of the better-known temples of the Dieng Plateau, let alone Java. At the time of writing, it had not even been added as an attraction on the ‘Sights’ section of Tripadvisor. In some ways, this seems odd. After all, it is positioned right at the entrance gate to the well-known Arjuna Complex. Furthermore, it is set right across the road from the Museum Kailasa, which is the main museum on the Dieng Plateau. Yet somehow the tourists walking between these two attractions seem to give Candi Gatotkaca short shrift, almost as if it wasn’t there. However, due to its great age and its membership of a second, ‘hidden’ temple complex at Dieng Plateau, Candi Gatotkaca is more interesting than it might appear on casual inspection.
A kala-makhara arch on the outer walls
In terms of its decoration, Candi Gatotkaca can seem rather austere. It has much less carving than the other temples on the plateau. In terms of exterior ornamentation, the main thing of note is the use of kala-makhara arches. You will find some excellent examples above the niches on the outer walls. There may once have been one of these arches over the main entrance as well, but it was not possible to include it in the reconstruction. Apart from that, the other feature which is likely to capture your interest is the large, well-preserved yoni which is found inside the temple. This is perhaps the finest example of yoni which is still in situ at Dieng, though there was no sign of the linga.
With regards to the form, it is said to be a mixture of the two main temple plans found on the Dieng Plateau: the square plan and the cruciform plan. It has a fairly simple cella platform, with a short staircase extending out from the main entrance. The roof has an interesting brickwork yet most of the superstructure is missing. This gives it something of an artificially square and stumpy appearance. Its original roof would probably have been tiered like Candi Arjuna. While you are inside the temple, it is also worth checking out the step-corbelled ceiling, which is another common feature of the Dieng temples.
The front view of Candi Gatotkaca, the traces of other structures in the foreground
Apart from this, there are a couple of other facts about Candi Gatotkaca which might enhance its interest for the visitor. Firstly, it is usually classified as one of the oldest temples in all of Java. For instance, in a recent book by Samba Ditta and David Beynon, they suggested a dating for the temple of somewhere between 650 and 750 AD. This makes it one of the oldest Hindu temples in all of Java, dating from the original penetration of the religion into the island. At this point, the architecture of the Javanese temple was still in its infancy and the shrines were comparatively simple compared to the later glories of the Mataram kingdom.
A second point which is worth knowing is there were once two complexes of ancient temples in the vicinity of Candi Gatotkaca. Today, the Arjuna Complex is in reasonably good repair and has been a well-known sight since the days of the Dutch East Indies. Yet right alongside there was another complex, which included six temples. However, until about a decade ago Candi Gatotkaca was the only one of these temples which amounted to more than a pile of rubble. At that time, Candi Setyaki was reconstructed, becoming the second of this second group to re-emerge in something approaching its original form. In the coming years the other four temples- Candi Nakula, Candi Sadewa, Candi Petruk and Candi Gareng- might also see the attentions of restorers. Until then, they will remain piles of bricks in the Dieng mist.
The temple is set in a sunken garden, with a lush hillside in the background
This is the first of a trio of posts which will focus on lesser-known temples of the Dieng Plateau: Candi Setyaki, Candi Gatotkaca and Candi Bima. Located on the edge of the main Arjuna Complex, Candi Setyaki includes many of the same motifs and architectural features of its nearby cousins. However, with its wealth of stone-carving motifs, Setyaki is a particularly appealing example and is surely worth making the short detour to see.
Like most of the Dieng temples, Candi Setyaki was probably built during either the 8th or 9th centuries, making it one of the oldest Hindu shrines in the Indonesian archipelago. Like most of the Dieng temples, Setyaki is small and box-like compared to those on the Prambanan Plain, but things become more interesting once you start paying attention to small sculptural details. For instance, Setyaki has a frieze of unusual figures around the base, some of which are still crisply carved. The frieze features a woman in a squatting position who is dangling a pair of bells from thick chains. Her weighty ear-rings and necklace suggests she is of high birth.
An unusual motif from the base of Candi Setyaki
Less unusual but also beautifully rendered are the kala-makhara arches which can be found over the main entrance and also the niches on the body of the temple. The kalas at Dieng are mostly jawless, featuring only the upper row of teeth. They are also noteworthy for their giant, bulging eyes which evoke the demonic nature of these beings. The example shown below is surrounded by a rich background of swirling foliage which gives a more abstract effect. Unfortunately, the statuary which would once have filled the niche has long since been lost.
A kala head can be seen over a niche in the body of the temple
Another kind of monster which is encountered at Candi Setyaki is the makhara, a kind of stylized sea-monster which is often found in the company of kalas. There is a particularly good example at Candi Setyaki, which is set at the base of the main entrance. It would originally have been one of a pair but its right-hand side counterpart is now missing. Nevertheless, its graceful shape and gaping mouth, which contains a smaller, lion-like monster, make it a memorable piece of statuary.
The stone makhara on the steps of the Hindu shrine
Candi Setyaki is not a complete structure. The roof of the temple is missing. However, there are still hundreds of unplaced stones which are being stored in the immediate vicinity, so further restorations seem possible. It is also clear that Setyaki also had several candi perwara or satellite temples. The base of one of these is in reasonable condition but the rest are completely ruinous. In terms of the main temple, it is estimated that 70% of the stones are original and the rest are modern replacements. Due to its sculptural detail, it is worth seeing even in its partially ruined state.
The main entrance of the temple is framed by a kala-makhara arch
It wasn’t until the 1990s that it was decisively proved that Palembang was the site of the capital of Sriwijaya, the legendary kingdom which had appeared in the historical records at the end of the 7th century. If the capital of the kingdom remained in obscurity until comparatively recently, than the potential upstream sites of this kingdom are virtually unknown. Their names are barely mentioned outside the occasional field report from Indonesian archaeologists- most of these stored in archives somewhere, still unpublished years after they were written.
Yet a few sites associated with ancient Sriwijaya have been identified and they may appeal to intrepid pioneers or adventurers. One of these is the site of Candi Nikan (Nikan Temple), which is, until now, the most promising site on the Komering River, a tributary of the Musi. This unexcavated temple site can be found 150 kilometres upriver from Palembang at the confluence of the Komering with the small Sungai Nikan. Like many old communities in South Sumatra, the village of Nikan consists of beautiful timber traditional houses set high up on stilts. These traditional houses would make it worth a quick look in its own right.
However, the main importance of Nikan for historians is the fact that one of the houses is built right on top of an archaeological mound, which is thought to contain the ruins of an ancient candi (temple). Some bricks have been uncovered here with carved decorations that are consistent with the structure’s identification as a temple. Further evidence of a religious use for the site is a weighty lotus-stand (padsamana) which was found in the village and which is now stored in a kramat (shrine) in a wooden shed overlooking the mouth of the Sungai Nikan. Ceramic finds from the village indicate that the area was importing trade porcelain during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. This suggests that Nikan may once have been an inland entrepot in the Sriwijaya kingdom, at least during its final phase. However, more recent evidence suggests that the Komering was tied into trade networks much earlier than that.
A traditional house along the Komering River
In 2014 sand miners on the Komering River discovered a twenty-five kilogram hoard of Sung Dynasty coins while dredging the river for sand. Soon thereafter they discovered a kind of ceremonial dagger known as a keris. These coins were thought to date back to the 10th century, a few hundred years before the Candi Nikan site was occupied. Having a square-shaped hole in the centre and bearing Chinese characters on them, these copper coins numbered in the thousands. Were these a sign that Chinese traders had been active on the Sungai Komering towards the end of the tenth century? The archaeological team from Palembang does not consider it likely. They suggested that the Chinese did not venture any further than Palembang. However, lacking a local currency, Sumatran traders used Chinese coins while buying jungle products along the banks of the Komering River. It is thought the local area produced resins, rattan and herbal medicines which made their way downriver to the Sriwijayan capital. This hoard is yet more evidence that the Komering River was part of the Sriwijayan mandala.
Muara Jambi is the largest archaeological site in Sumatra and Indonesia’s best surviving example of ancient temple complex outside Java. However, we know this city mostly from its religious monuments, in particular its eight extant temple compounds, all of which are spread out along the river flats at the edge of the Batang Hari. It is well-established that this site was the ceremonial centre of Malayu, a polity which at times enjoyed independence from the Palembang-based Sriwijaya kingdom but which at other times fell under the suzerainty of Sriwijaya. The surviving temples are thought to date from the between the ninth and twelfth centuries, which was the city’s heyday as an international trading centre. What is much less clear is whether Muara Jambi was merely a religious centre or also the site of a large urban settlement.
On the Sumatran lowlands, people still tend to build houses from perishable materials, so none of the residential buildings of this ancient site have survived until the present day. Therefore, it has remained a matter of conjecture whether Muara Jambi’s ruins were the ceremonial core of a larger urban area. Furthermore, presuming Muara Jambi was a city, it had long remained a mystery what its residential buildings might have looked like. However, during Indonesian excavations at the city during the 1970s and 1980s, nine inscribed bricks were located which depicted architecturally accurate building designs for various forms of vernacular architecture. These offer unique insights into the ancient residential dwellings of the Muara Jambi elite.
There are a number of different designs sketched on the bricks, which can be presumed to be the likenesses of real buildings. This conclusion is supported by the fact that they resemble known architectural types from the island of Sumatra. It is also supported by the fact they their weight-bearing beams are marked with double lines. These inscriptions are no mere doodles; they were made by someone with a working knowledge of the construction principles of wooden buildings. Once we have accepted this much, we can readily see the importance of these bricks: they are the only surviving visual representations of one of one of the most important ancient cities in Indonesia. What then do they tell us about Muara Jambi in its prime?
A sketch which resembles a Minangkabau house
The sketches depict a variety of buildings. While the multi-levelled houses resemble types familiar from the vernacular architecture of modern Jambi, some of other designs come from further afield. There is an elaborate house with a horned roof, with immediately brings to mind the houses of the Minang highlands. Intriguingly, the Minang Highlands are the source of the Batang Hari river which runs by the site; yet they are located some eight hundred kilometres upriver. There is also one house with a steeply sloping pyramid-shaped roof. This structure resembles the rumah limas houses which can still be found along the banks of the Musi River in Palembang. Another design has architectural features which are known from Aceh. Based on these resemblances, it has been suggested that Muara Jambi was a multi-ethnic trading port with a broad network of commercial links.
This is an interesting conclusion, and it is one that is supported by the finds of Chinese and Thai porcelain at the site, but what has not always been emphasized is that the houses types all have a Sumatran origin. Perhaps Muara Jambi’s resident population was more a melting pot of ancient Sumatran ethnic groups than a truly international metropole. We can assume that Acehnese, Minang, Sriwijayan and Malayu traders once lived alongside one another here, all profiting from the rich trade in ancient Sumatra’s jungle products.In this sense, perhaps it really was a precursor of the multi-ethnic cities of modern Indonesia.
Muara Jambi was ‘discovered’ by an English captain called S.C.Crooke in the 1820s and partially excavated by the Dutch in the 1930s. Yet in 2003, it looked as if it was hacked out of the jungle the week before. The great majority of the site has still yet to be cleared and there are said to be numerous unexcavated mounds scattered through the vegetation along the edge of the Batang Hari River. By one report the total site covered twelve square kilometres and contains seventy-two temples and archaeological mounds. By most measurements, this makes it the most extensive archaeological site in the country and one of the largest in the whole of South-East Asia. However, for the casual visitor the main sights are concentrated in the immediate vicinity of the caretaker’s cottage and a visit to Muara Jambi need not prove a time-consuming affair. We set off at once for the first temple compound, Candi Gumpung, keeping an eye out for snakes!
For us, the most impressive temple at the site was the first one we visited: Candi Gumpung (Gumpung Temple). Like most of the main sanctuaries at Muara Jambi, it was enclosed by a brick perimeter wall; with a breadth and width of about 150 metres, this wall enclosed a large compound, which was covered at the time of our visit by grass lawns. The temple itself, like almost all the remains at Muara Jambi, was built from red bricks. Roughly square in shape, it measured approximately 18 metres along each side and rose to a height of about three metres. Apart from the bright red colour of the brickwork, the temple was rather plain, giving it a markedly different appearance from the ornately worked appearance of most ancient Javanese temples. This may have been a function of the available building materials. Unlike the temple-builders of Central Java, who had large quantities of volcanic rock at their disposal, there are no volcanoes in the swampy Sumatran lowlands. Therefore, the temple-builders at Muara Jambi had been forced to build their temples from bricks, which accounted for their divergent appearances. It had also meant that the Muara Jambi temples were constructed on a much more modest scale.
Small brick stupas at Candi Muara Jambi
Nonetheless, some attempt had been made to distinguish the eastern wall of the temple. On that side was a gateway which penetrated into the interior of the temple; this had been the only way in to inner sanctum, where a holy image had almost certainly been enshrined. On either side of this entrance were two vertical bands of bricks, which had been fashioned to resemble columns. Apart from these false columns, there was a shallow staircase which jutted out from the body of the temple. Sitting on the foot of these steps is the only piece of statuary remaining at the temple- the head of a makhara, a kind of sea-demon. Though in terms of decorative detail, it couldn’t compare to even the most minor of Javanese temples, this was the most photogenic façade at Muara Jambi.
That left the question of whether it was a Hindu or Buddhist temple- a question which we promptly answered. Evidently, Candi Gumpung was a Buddhist temple, a fact which we deduced from the numerous, small, brick stupas that were lined up beneath a nearby tree. Furthermore, we soon read that archaeologists had found Buddhist mantras inscribed on artefacts found within the temple. The Buddhist identity of the temple was further reinforced by the fact that it was here that archaeologists had discovered a beautiful statue of Prajaparamita, the Buddhist goddess of knowledge. We read that this statue was still housed on site at a small museum and immediately started to look forward to seeing it. The suggested dates for the temples of Muara Jambi vary widely between sources, but it was thought that it had been first built during the ninth century and then renovated or restored during the eleventh or twelfth centuries. These were dates that we were to ponder at much length later. But first we kept moving, not wanting to keep the taxi driver waiting all day.
Located in front of Candi Gumpung was a large, man-made pool. According to our booklet, the pool measured one hundred by one hundred and twenty metres and was usually at a depth of two to three metres. We rapidly concluded that the rulers of Muara Jambi had had a large supply of human labour at their disposal; digging such a pool would have required quite an army of workers. We also recalled the association of pools with royal dynasties throughout Southeast-Asia; at Angkor in Cambodia there are a number of massive reservoirs. We had also seen a huge, man-made reservoir at Trowulan in East Java, which was the site of the capital of the great Majapahit Empire. The name of this pool was Kolam Telagorajo, which means the King’s Pond in Melayu, a title which reinforced the royal connections of the pond.
From we there proceeded to the other largely intact temple at the site: Candi Tinggi (the tall temple). With a height of seven metres, it may be the tallest structure at the site, but in another sense the name seems a misnomer; Candi Tinggi is in fact much wider than it is tall. Like many other Hindu-Buddhist monuments in Indonesia, this temple made use of terraces, which would have provided a platform for important religious ceremonies. It is the main terrace of the temple which explains its considerable width, and it is also these projections to the sides which give it a cruciform shape. Its tallest point is in the middle. Here you find a narrow, walled space, which would presumably have enshrined some sacred image. Similarly to Candi Gumpung, it was approached by a long staircase which jutted far out to the front of the temple. There was little decoration to speak of, but the brickwork itself was beautiful, having a kind of striped look.
By the time we had reached Candi Tinggi we had become a tourist attraction in our right. Two village youths had come across to see the foreigners. They followed us about, answering the odd question, and strumming a chord or two on the acoustic guitar they had brought along. They wore the flip-flops, tight jeans and brightly coloured T-shirts that are the unofficial uniform for young men in Indonesia. We made several attempts to talk to them, but they answered the questions as briefly as possible and then sank bank into silence, interspersed with the odd burst of sound from the guitar. This was not due to any lack of friendliness of their part. Indeed, they had approached us and followed us around the site, signaling just the opposite. It is just that the ‘art of conversation’ as we understand it seems to have no place in the culture of ordinary Indonesians. What they really seemed to want to do was watch us.
Candi Tinggi is one of the main shrines at the site
Their eyes took in our appearance, our clothes and followed every movement we made. We were the subject of occasional whispered comments between them, but for the most part they didn’t talk to each other either. They had no commentary to add about the temples, but they knew which paths to follow to the lesser ruins. They pointed out the way and watched us as we wandered about the remains, a cheerful enough presence for all their silence and staring. The next ruin they directed us to was Candi Kembar Batu, a ruin which was only mentioned in passing in both the guidebooks we were carrying. Nor was there any information about it in any of the essays I had read. But thankfully, once we had made the 250 metre walk across from Candi Tinggi, there was a signboard which gave some basic information.
There are seven main temple complexes at Candi Muara Jambi that are still in reasonable repair; one of these is Candi Kembar Batu (literally “The Twin Rocks/Stones temple”). Overall, it is not a particularly impressive ruin, which is probably why it is much less photographed and written about than the two ‘star’ candis here: Candi Tinggi and Candi Gumpung. In articles or blog posts about Candi Muara Jambi, it is usually passed over or discussed perfunctorily; even the most detailed posts rarely do more than give its measurements and then move on to the next temple. But there are really precious few ancient candi (Hindu/Budhdist temples) left in Sumatra, so each one offers valuable clues as to the past. It is worth raking over this temple for as much information as we can get about it.
Like the other major remains at Candi Muara Jambi, this one is surrounded by a low perimeter fence. These were constructed of a brick outer casing over an interior of river shingle and sand from the Batanghari River. The outer wall here is approximately square, measuring 59 X 63 metres. Within the space there is one candi induk (Mother Temple) and five candi perwara (satellite temples) and there are also the foundations of other largely vanished structures. All of the structures are built of plain bricks and none of them feature anything in the way of decoration. The most eye-catching of what has survived is the Mother Temple, which measures just over 11.3 x 11.4 metres, with a staircase extending outwards from the main temple body. It only reaches a height of 2.8 metres. It is presumed that this was formerly the brick base of a larger structure with wooden pillars and a roof. This sort of open-sided pavilion is still common in parts of Java and Bali. What we see now is probably only the base of the original structure, which is why it looks rather unprepossessing.
The interest of this modest temple complex is increased somewhat if you bear in mind the archaeological finds which have been made at the site. As at many other sites at Candi Muara Jambi, there was been a lot of Chinese porcelain found at the site. This mostly dates to the period from the 10th to the 12th century, when the Malayu kingdom (the predecessor of the Jambi Sultanate) was at its height and when the Sung Dynasty held sway in China. We also know from historical records that there was a lot of Malayu-Chinese diplomacy and trade going on towards the end of the eleventh century, with no less than 6 missions from Muara Jambi reaching the Chinese imperial court. Therefore, this temple complex was probably built during the ‘flower time’ of the kingdom.
The austere ruins at the site
Apart from sherds of Sung Dynasty porcelain, the site has also yielded gold and silver Chinese coins and an inscribed Chinese blade. But the most intriguing of Candi Kembar’s artifacts is surely a Sung Dynasty war gong. This bronze gong, somewhat encrusted with viridian, bears the date 1231 and it even bears an inscription in Chinese. The gong has been the subject of an essay by academic Claudine Lombard-Salmon, who considers as a potential new historical source for the late Sriwijaya period. Her essay makes several interesting points about the history of the gong.
Lombard-Salmon explains that there was a great shortage of copper during the Sung Dynasty and that successive emperors had placed a ban on the export of it. This makes the appearance of a Chinese gong in Muara Jambi in the 13th century all the more interesting. Lombard-Salmon puts forward two possible explanations of how it reached Muara Jambi. She notes that a trade in smuggled bronzewares certainly existed, as there have been 13th century Chinese gongs found in at least two shipwrecks- one at Pulau Buaya in Indonesia’s Riau Archipelago and another off the coast of Java. In this case, the war gong was just an unusual piece of 13th century contraband.
Lombard-Salmon tends to prefer a second hypothesis, however. In this telling there was a sizable Chinese merchant population at Muara Jambi (a view supported by the finding of the Chinese golden blade and a large bronze cauldron). Noting that the style of this gong is different from the shipwreck gongs in that parts of it have been soldered, she wonders whether the Master Hong of the inscription was in fact a resident of Muara Jambi. In this telling, he was a very early example of a ‘Straits Chinese’. She offers the possibility that not only was there a Chinese quarter at Muara Jambi but that there was also a Chinese artisan community there forging gongs, cauldrons and other bronzewares. Moreover, this community had its own armory to store its weapons and war gongs- presumably before they were put into service guarding shipping in the Straits. It is certainly a theory which offers many interesting insights into the economy and politics of 13th century Jambi.
What Lombard-Salmon didn’t discuss was why a Malayu (or Chinese) war gong ended up in Candi Kembar Batu. This question could also prompt a considerable amount of conjecture, but the link between gongs and temples is quite strong in South-East Asia, so its appearance doesn’t seem too surprising. In Bali, for example, the gamelan gong gede (the big gong orchestra) will often make an appearance during temple festivals. Further afield in Thailand and Burma, large, bronze gongs are sometimes displayed in Buddhist temples; for example, giant, suspended gongs feature prominently in temples in the town of Roi Et, in Thailand’s Northeastern Isaan region. That a war gong would have been put to use in a Buddhist temple at Muara Jambi need not seem too surprising then. Perhaps it once hung from a wooden frame in one of the ruined temples at Candi Kembar Batu.
Candi Badut, the oldest surviving structure in all of East Java, is a dated temple; according to an inscription on the temple body, it was completed on the 28th of November in the year 760. This date is now used as the official ‘birth date’ of Malang. During our visit in 2009, there were signs all over town commemorating the 1249th birthday of the city of Malang, with the year 760 being the starting point. From the viewpoint of historical accuracy, this was clearly a rather arbitrary designation. There is no real proof of continuity between Candi Badut and the city of Malang. When the temple was rediscovered by an archaeologist in 1923, it was little more than a pile of rubble and it had clearly been abandoned for many centuries; it is by no means apparent that the area had been continuously settled since 760.
Furthermore, it seems almost certain that the people who built Candi Badut had been living in the area for many years before they constructed this temple. At that time building stone temples would have required a large workforce of surplus labour; therefore, we can assume a rather stratified kingdom was in existence at the time it was constructed. A kingdom had probably been developing in that region for many years prior to 760, because the transition from village-based government to polities (petty kingdoms) would typically have taken many decades, or sometimes even centuries. According to the Prasasti Dinoyo (inscribed stone), which is now housed in the National Museum in Jakarta, Dinoyo was the capital of the Kajurahan kingdom, and its king was called King Gajayana; it was this obscure monarch and kingdom which had built Candi Badut. Based on this we can safely say that Dinoyo was founded some time well before 760 and, furthermore, that was not a direct predecessor of Malang. The smooth history of 1249 years implied by the signs around town were more legend than fact.
Nonetheless, what they did tell us was that Candi Badut now formed an important part of the origin myth of the city of Malang. True or not, the legend of the city’s founding was tied up with the construction of this little temple, so it seemed important that we see it before leaving Malang. Located in the outer suburbs of the growing city, it was not marked on the maps of either of our two guidebooks. Not trusting our sense of direction, we decided just to take a taxi to the site. Obviously it was not one of the better-known landmarks in the city, as the taxi driver had to call for directions on the wireless. When we eventually arrived at the site, we were surprised to find it located on a block of land in a middle-class suburban neighborhood. There seemed something rather incongruous in an ancient temple being hidden out here in the suburbs; perhaps no other antiquity in Java had so inauspicious a location.
We told the taxi driver not to wait for us and went over to view the temple. But once we reached the perimeter fence, we realized that the gate was locked. We looked through the bars at the stone temple at the centre of the garden, wondering how we were going to inside, feeling that surely someone would appear at any moment with a key. But then a few minutes passed and it became clear that the temple really was locked and no one else was around. I went to the house alongside, knocked on the front door and asked if they knew where the key-holder was. A young man opened the door and shook his head with a rather incredulous look upon his face. At that point I finally realized that for once we were out of luck and our efforts to see this temple were in vain. Once I put this view to Cameron, however, he offered a more optimistic view. He said that we were really only a few metres away from the temple and that we could get a fairly decent sense of it from where we were standing.
Based on the view through the bars, as well as what I have read elsewhere, I offer the following description. The temple is set on a square base, which is a couple of metres high; it retains its body but not its roof, a fact which gives the temple a squat, block-like appearance. The whole thing is constructed of grey stone called andesite, which lends it a somber, dignified air. The temple of the body is narrower than the square base, so there is a narrow ambulatory around the temple; perhaps devotees would once have wandered around this ledge, gazing at the sacred images housed in the niches set in the temple walls. In the present day no carving or sculpture was present from the fence besides a kala-makhara arch over the entrance. This demon and sea-monster motif was common to most of the early temples in Central Java, notably the 8th century temples of the Dieng Plateau, and overall Candi Badut so closely resembles these, especially Candi Arjuna, that some commentators have suggested that the builders of Candi Badut were refugees from an 8th century war in Central Java.
Whatever the true of the ‘refugee from warfare’ thesis, the temple was clearly dedicated to the god of war, Shiva. We didn’t get to see the interior of the shrine, but it is said to contain a lingga and yoni– clear indications of the cult of Shiva. Therefore, we know that by the eighth century Hinduism was already established in at least one part of East Java. Yet this intriguing fact raises many unanswered questions. What was the relationship of Kajurahan with the Central Javanese states of Holing and Mataram? What had happened to Dinoyo and Kajurahan after the construction of Candi Badut? Why were no more major temples built in the Malang area until 400 years later? Had this kingdom eventually been snuffed out by the upstart state of Kediri in the 10th century? Though these questions were certainly compelling, we had no chance of answering them while staring at the temple through metal bars. We took our leave and went off looking for a becak back into town.
The enigmatic shrine of Candi Badut, located in the suburbs of Malang
In terms of temples in the Blitar area, the main drawcard is undoubtedly Candi Penataran, which is easily the single most impressive temple complex in all East Java. But there are a number of lesser temples or ruins in the area and the most satisfying of these is Candi Sawentar. Though seldom mentioned in the guidebooks, this temple makes a worthwhile addition to the more celebrated Penataran complex. If you do make the effort, you are almost guaranteed to have it yourself.
We went by ojek (motorcycle taxi) which saved us the trouble of trying to work out the local minibus routes. From the centre of Blitar it took us about 10 minutes to get out to the temple, which is located just outside the city in a semi-rural area. We got down off the bikes and told the drivers to wait for us. My driver responded with a casual, unphased nod of the head; they are a laid-back bunch overall the ojek drivers of Indonesia.
Perhaps the most remarkable thing about this temple is its location. It is set at the bottom of a deep excavation pit, indicating that the bottom two of three metres of this temple was once buried underground. We spent the first few minutes there discussing this unusual fact and soon came to the conclusion that the temple had either been buried beneath soil from a river or, more probably, volcanic debris from a major eruption. Gunung Kelud was in the vicinity and was known to be one of the most active volcanoes on Java, so this seemed possible. Still, the thought that it could have been buried beneath the ash of a volcano that was barely within sight caused some head-shaking.
We then descended into the pit to get a closer look at the temple itself. And the main surprise was how closely it resembled Candi Kidal, the funerary temple of Anusapati, the second of the Singosari kings. The similarities were so close that I immediately wondered if this was a Singosari temple rather than a relic of the Majapahit era. Stylistically at least, it appeared to belong to the thirteenth-century Singosari kingdom. (When I checked the facts later, it turned out that the dates were subject to some debate. In short, it was either built in the 13th or 14th centuries; a definitive date had never been found).
Candi Sawentar, possibly dating to the Singosari period
The temple is about 9.5 metres tall and is set on a platform which is wider than the body of the temple. This creates a small gallery around which devotees could have circumambulated during religious ceremonies. There are niches on all sides of the temple where images of Hindu deities would once have been enshrined. Today the main images are makharas, a kind of sea-demon, which are located at the base of the staircase and kalas (demons) with bulging eyes, which are above the doors. The roof of the building is very ornate too, consisting of layers of boxes, each one slightly smaller than the last.
One unusual feature of the temple that you could easily miss is the keystone in the vault. You won’t see it too clearly at the site, even if you are well-prepared enough to have brought a torch, so it is worth checking out online. The carving shows Surya, the Hindu sun- god, on top of a horse with large ears like wings. The whole carving is surrounded by the circular corona of the sun, creating a kind of medallion. In all our travels around Java, I can never recall encountering another image like this one.
This medallion shows Surya, the Hindu god of the sun
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