The Great Wave: The Influence of the Mongol Empire Beyond Eurasia PDF

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The Great Wave: The Influence of the Mongol Empire Beyond Eurasia Paper presented at the Mobility and Transformations: Economic and Cultural Exchange in Mongol Eurasia Conference sponsored by the ERC project “Mobility Empire and Cross Cultural Contacts in Mongol Eurasia” at Hebrew University of Jeru...

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The Great Wave: The Influence of the Mongol Empire Beyond Eurasia Paper presented at the Mobility and Transformations: Economic and Cultural Exchange in Mongol Eurasia Conference sponsored by the ERC project “Mobility Empire and Cross Cultural Contacts in Mongol Eurasia” at Hebrew University of Jerusalem (June 29 - July 1, 2014)

In 1289 the Great Khan of the Mongol Empire and Emperor of China, Kubilai Khan, sent his ambassadors to the Indonesian archipelago in an attempt to collect tribute from the Javanese kingdom of Singhasari. As an act of refusal, its masterful king Kertanegara ordered the disfigurement of the Khan's envoy in a manner befitting a common criminal— the slashing off of his nose—and brandished his forehead with a defiant response. This dramatic form of repudiation only escalated the antagonistic relationship between these two rulers, leading to the Khan undertaking a large punitive invasion of the Javanese kingdom. From what we can glean from recorded accounts, Kertanagara was a formidable and well-matched adversary of the Khan. Considered the first “expansionist” ruler of this island kingdom, he embodied a new vision of a Javanese king. In 1275 he conducted military mission against Sumatra. In 1285, his armies invaded Bali and brought back members of its royal family as prisoners. Kertanegara may have been able to see the greater world around him and the potential of connections with other regions, but he was also aware of its hazards. His marriage to a Cham princess and alliance with this kingdom may have helped to buttress a region vulnerable to the armies of the Khan. That the personage of Kertanegara has come down to us in any great detail is quite remarkable, considering the world view of pre-Islamic Java. Much of its history has been recreated through a series of prasasti, commemorations written on gold plaques or stone steles, and kawakin, epic poems in the Old Javanese language. They provide a window onto the socio-religious foundations of a long epoch spanning the mid-eighth through the 15th centuries. At its core was the practice of Buddhism and Hinduism as introduced to from the Indian subcontinent. Accompanying these religious tenets— and ensuring their efficacity— were ritual practices, the Sanskrit language, architectural and visuals forms and formulations, and ideals of kingship derived from the Indic tradition. Once in Java, these fused with indigenous cults of ancestor worship, culminating in a unique regard of the ruler as a semi-divine entity who demonstrated great spiritual potency while residing on earth. Upon death he or she is transformed into a full-time deity. All religious components of this era— whether architectural forms, religious statuary, or ritual ceremonies— were imbued with, and served, this vital belief. Moreover, the ancient Javanese definition of “history” differs from many others. All written accounts view the rulers of Java through a lauded lens- recounting their heroics and spiritual abilities bordering on the supernatural, and with the greatest of panegyrical prowess.

More so than a forerunner of a strategic politician, the descriptions of Kertanegara adhere to this centuries-old archetype of Javanese kingship. Yet, this semi-divine vision of leadership resonates with that bestowed on Kertanegara’s great nemesis. These rulers had other common characteristics. Kertanegara was a known drunkard; he loved palm wine above anything else. It is believed to have led to his downfall in 1292 when he was assassinated during one of his orgies (Vlekke: 61). Another source interprets Kertanegara’s indulgences otherwise, and extols this great and saint-like ruler whose excessive drinking of palm wine represented a form of esoteric, possibly Tantric, ritual that challenged and strengthened his spiritual powers. By doing so he safeguarded his kingdom from calamity and confusion. (Vlekke: 61-62) This whitewashed account of the king’s practices and demise is found in the most extensive source for Javanese court life that directly parallels the era of Yuan Dynasty China— the Deśawarnaṇa by the court poet Prapañca.1 Written in the form of a kakawin in the mid-14th century during the reign of Kertanegara’s great-grandson, Hayam Wuruk, it recounts the dynastic lineage of Java for the previous two-and-a-half centuries. This unfolds as the king travels throughout his districts and visits royal caṇḍi , Hindu or Buddhist monuments that simultaneously served as mortuary shrines for deceased rulers who have undergone deified transformation.2 At each he learns about one of his ancestors. While Prapanca’s chronicle may have undergone some imaginative editing, hindering a realistic view of these rulers, his description of the shrine dedicated to Kertanegara reveals invaluable archaeological information: Now that character of the foundation in the past is of course well-known; It was a pious work of King Kṛtanagara, the great-grandfather of the King. Moreover it was he who ruled over it in bodily form, and he alone, And hence it was both Śaiwas and Buddhists who always use to worship there. As a sign of this the caṇḍi below was Śaiwa, with a Buddhist pinnacle above, And within was a splendid image of Śiwa of limitless fineness; A statuette of Akṣobhya above the crown was undoubtedly its highest point, And it was through its supernatural power that it was destroyed, being truly of the highest essence of Void. (Robson 1995:65) 3 These passages have enabled us to learn that Kertanegara practiced a syncretic form of Buddhism and Hinduism and, as a result, his mortuary shrine was a composite of Hindu 1

Also known as the Nāgarakṛtāgama. It was the king’s duty to visit the caṇḍi of his ancestors in order to acquire their their magical strengths and spiritual fortitude. 3 In this same canto Prapañca describes Hayam Wuruk’s disappointment when he learns that the sculpture of the posthumous Kertanegara as Akṣobhya disappeared. He was also surprised by the damaged condition of the caṇḍi. The abbot explains that the statue most probably disappeared in the ‘fires-arrows-sun’ of the Saka-era (AD 1331) when the caṇḍi was struck by lightening. (Robson 1995:66) 2

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architectural forms and a crowning Buddhist stupa. These is only one caṇḍi in Java with these characteristics, Caṇḍi Jawi. Moreover, court portraiture, as it existed in China at the time of Kubilai Khan, has no counterpart in the traditions of Kertanagara’s Java. Rather, of utmost significance to this society was the posthumous sculptural surrogate of the ruler in his or her deified transfiguration. Fortunately the sculpture of Kertanagara as the Buddha Akshobya is still extant. Found at a subsequent Majapahit site, it bears the inscription “for the benefit of the king and the royal family, and the unity of the kingdom” (Vlekke 1960:63). The uniqueness of the architectural components of Caṇḍi Jawi are paralleled by the novel subject matter depicted on its platform base. It represents a stark break with the traditional use of this area for recounting Hindu epic narratives, local parables, or Buddhist stories. Instead, at Caṇḍi Jawi, are sculptural portrayals of contemporary life— including a ritual procession and the detailing of a temple complex. What is also entirely unconventional—from the Javanese artistic sensibilities of this era— is the rendering of the architectural elements. The interest of the artists in simulating a three-dimensional recession into space through the careful and deliberate employment of diagonal elements is unprecedented. This brings to mind aspects of the Chinese painting tradition of the Song era, such as the great masterwork Qing Ming Shanghe tu by the 12th century artist Zhang Zeduan, and conjures the possibility that the Javanese courts were familiar with contemporaneous Chinese painted works, particularly horizontal narrative scrolls. These complimented the long horizontal spaces reserved for these caṇḍis’ sacred narratives.4 The possible Chinese impetus on these narrative reliefs brings forth a much broader consideration, mainly, that despite the hostile diplomatic clashing of two larger-thanlife personages at the end of the 13th century, artistic evidence suggests there was a welcoming influence of the visual culture of the Khanate— by means of Yuan dynasty China— on the arts of Java. One vital phenomenon that encourages to the possibility of artistic interchange during this era is maritime trade. It can be ascertained through the archaeological record, as well as via foreign chronicles and Javanese inscriptions, that the Song Dynasty paralleled a resurgence of Javanese maritime trade. This era marked the shift in the court to the eastern end of the island as a result of a catastrophic earthquake in Central Java that occurred the first quarter of the tenth century. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the new foundations of Javanese society were founded upon the coastline and Brantas River Delta, and therefore more embracive of the outside world and commercial ventures.

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Zhang Zeduan’ s Qingming Shanghe tu is believe to depict the residents of Kaifeng as they commemorate the Qingming festival. Among the rituals they perform are the sweeping of their ancestors’ tombs and undertaking prayers for the dead,

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The discovery of recent shipwrecks in the Java Sea—as well as the collections of major Indonesian museums — attest to the admiration that the Javanese had for the highfired, impermeable glazed ceramics of both Tang and Song China. Their shapes and firing techniques were emulated by local potters.5 By the time of the Khanate, Javanese potters were able to replicate well-admired Chinese vessels.6 Through trade objects they— as well as artisans of other three-dimensional media— may have been introduced to the “Yuan style”, one characterized by complex patterning, the overlapping of design elements, the use of appliqués as ceramic forms, and openwork designs. All these were employed to further a greater sense of three-dimensionality. 7 In addition to ceramics, during the reigns of Khubilai Khan and Kertanegara, other Chinese imports to Java included gold, silver, and copper currency; vessels of silver and gold, iron goods, and lacquer ware.8 In regard to textile trade, During the Song dynasty skeins of silk were among the Chinese commodities and, in turn, Javanese silk textiles were exported to China. By the 12th century, the Javanese were producing textiles that were ornamented with gold glue-work, possibly in imitation of Persian designs (Christie 1998: 357). During this era, Java practically held a monopoly on black pepper, which was in high demand in China (Christie 1998: 352) Directly at the locus of trade interaction, ideological commonalities, and the potential sharing of a visual vocabulary is the most precious of metals, gold. The Mongols of China viewed gold as having great cosmological significance; it was the power of the sun, the male principal and emblematic of the heavens (Watts 2010: 247). Vessels of silver and gold that were inspired by nomadic shapes and ornamentation were favored at the Yuan court (Watts 2010: 7). The Hindu-Buddhist culture of Java, revered gold for its apotropaic and solar powers. Following the credence of ancient Indian Vedic culture, gold was representative of light and the imperishable continuity of life. It was also rupam, a symbol for the gods (Gonda 1991: 30). It therefore held strong associations with kingship. Inscriptions of the Central Javanese period (c. 750-930) also relate that golden vessels were distributed by rulers to ranking court members in commemoration of the founding of a sima— a land grant designated for the founding of a sacred temple complex.

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Christie states that Chinese ceramics were distributed throughout the kingdom of Mataram, which flourished from approximately the eighth to through the tenth centuries. These Chinese ceramic finds were not only located around port cities, but also along major overland routes, junctures where roads crossed river ways, at temple sites, and within farming communities. (Christie 1989: 356). The distribution of these finds reflects the expansive significance of Chinese ceramic ware to the Javanese at this time. 6 It was perhaps only the quality of the clay that precluded the Javanese potters from becoming competitors with Annamese and other Southeast Asian mainland ceramicists. 7 As enumerated by James Watt (Watt 2010: 269). Further, Watt defines Chinese art under the Mongols as a “confluence of a number of cultural and artistic traditions”. Its hybridity was due to the regional character of Chinese culture prior to the Yuan Dynasty, when China was politically divided for several centuries, as well as by the introduction of new forms, particularly the golden cloth weavings techniques of Central Asia and Eastern Iran. (Watt 2010: 5-6). 8 Per Zhao Rugua’s early 13th-century account (Christie 1998: 354).

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In regards to the extant gold objects of East Javanese period, the evolution of motifs and their production methods cannot be explained merely through an isolated, or localized, progression. A case in point is a gold object in the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. Measuring 12.7 centimeters in diameter, it carries the arbitrary designation of the 13th century. The masterwork was originally identified as a “crown in the shape of a lotus”; several threads were still attached at the time of its unearthing, leading to the conclusion that it was originally sewn onto some sort of cloth foundation.9 It is unparalleled within the realm of Classical Javanese gold- there is simply no comparative material. As a chronology for the metalwork from the more-than-five centuries epoch has not been undertaken, it could have been produced at any juncture. The main section is comprised of a convex, circular disk that has been highly ornamented with an openwork pattern. At its center a large four-petal lotus is connected to a roundel through a series of delicate trefoil-like flowers. Disseminating from this main lotus motif is a repeated series of foliate, tendril-like motifs that are accented with secondary floral patterns by means of repoussé. Most unusual is a series of 17 extant spangles of thin cut gold that projects from the disk’s surface, of the original manufacture, that gives this object the overall impression of a gilded lotus pond. The bravura workmanship suggests it was of royal caliber and the product of a courtly atelier. The baroque ornamentation of this work, the embellishing of surfaces by secondary and tertiary motifs, the relatively naturalistic rendering of foliate and floral forms, and the overlapping three-dimensional treatment of the motifs have little in common with earlier traditions of Javanese gold, but it does share commonalities with other gold objects from subsequent Majapahit-era excavations. Unique to this object is the openwork design. This characteristic, added to those previously observed, encourages one to look towards China as source of inspiration. There may be other connections as well. This object is comprised of two parts; the registration of which is aligned with the disk resting on the top of the band. The braiding of both edges may have been more than decorative, serving to strengthen the edges. This object of gold was most probably a cover and rim for a vessel originally of precious metal or ceramic. Moreover, the padma, or lotus, motif played a predominant role in Hindu -Buddhist Javanese beliefs, for it was especially emblematic of the transmigration of the soul. As related in the Deśawarnaṇa, the padmasamūha (multitude of lotuses or lotus pond) was integral to caṇḍi complexes as well as to the śraddhā (funerary) ceremony. In this same canto, Prapañca details the aristocratic cortèges carrying offerings and holy water to shrine.10 His description bears a distinct resemblance to the procession portrayed on Caṇḍi Jawi, leading one to suspect that these narratives related the śraddhā ceremony undertaken for Kertanegara and represent a depiction of this temple complex at its time of creation. Further, the elaborate openwork of the lid tends an identification of this object as once belonging to dhūpapātra, or incense burner, used in conjunction with sacred ceremonies. The ascending smoke of the incense would recreate the effect of an early 9

Museum of Fine Arts, Boston Acquisition No. 1982.141. The measurements for this work, as well as its dating, are drawn from the Museum’s website. 10 Canto No. 64 of the Deśawarṇana (Nāgarakṛtāgama) by Mpu Prapañca. (Robson 1995:71)

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morning mist over a sacred lotus pond. So while this Javanese object reverberates with unique qualities of Yuan ceramic production, it may also be deemed a successor to Chinese ceramic wares and bronzes of a much earlier epoch —to the boshanlu “magic mountain brazier” of the Han dynasty. If artistic motifs, forms, and production techniques of Mongul-ruled China were known and emulated by the Javanese, why has there been a lack of recognition of the interactions between these two regions? This may be the result of misperceptions fostered by earlier eras of scholarship. The dramatic shift of the court of the Mataram kingdom in the mid-tenth century from Central to East Java also marked a startling change in the architectural, sculptural and ornamental styles of Java. It is traditionally believed that the change to local artisan played an important role. The monumental shrines of andesite, such as the ninth-century Borobudur, gave way to the more slender towering shrines of East Java, which were often made of less durable brick or tufa. The narrative relief cycles encircling these caṇḍi related stories— from a repertoire now including local legends alongside of the sacred epics of India— in an entirely new compositional mode and figural style. Fueled by the Theosophical Movement and visits to the Netherlands by the charismatic Krishnamurti, the early twentieth century, cultural scholars of Dutch East Indies came to reject the more “Indic-inspired” traditions at the core of the prior Central Javanese era in favor of the artistic output of the East Javanese kingdoms. They were particularly drawn to the sculptural narratives that featured relatively flat, more abstract figures in profile that were reminiscent of the characters of wayang, the shadow play performances believed to be imbued with magical and shamanistic qualities. Surrounding these heroes of stone— often in the manner of horror vacui— were spiraling flame or cloud-like forms. These were deemed the visual depiction of sekti, a magical power associated with primordial Javanese mysticism and linked to the tribal traditions of Indonesia, such as the Dayaks of Borneo11. This style represented the “original” and “more pure” Javanese spirit.12 A more emotional, rather than informed, interpretation was understandable, and well-intended. As the scholars of the Netherlands began to study and restore the sacred monuments of Java— impressed by their great majesty— they strove to liberate them from comparisons with Western culture and well as the nomenclature of “Provincial Indian”. They were determined to define them on their own terms. This somewhat myopic viewpoint may have been advantageous in fostering the initial foundation for Javanese studies, however it was limited in its scholarly perspective. Had one looked further, an alternative origin for sekti may been found among the traditions 11

The Old Javanese term sekti is derived from the Sanskrit sakti. Similar to many other Sanskrit terms adopted by the Javanese, its meaning was modified over time. 12 Among the scholars who promoted this philosophical perspective was the prolific scholar and Director of the Dutch East Indies Archaeological Service from 1936 until 1942, Willem Stutterheim. He writes that the art of the Eastern Javanese period was ”more Javanese in nature,” adding that this “naturalism” came from the sculptors’ vision of infusing their art with sekti, or native Javanese magical powers” where “we enter a world that is closer to the Javanese”…a world which exists in a more primitive state, the world primitive being used in its ethnological meaning” (Stutterheim 198...