Conversion of Controluer Tiggelmans's House into Bank Aceh in Seulimeuem

Permission from Aceh Besar regency to use the house of the late Controleur Tiggelman in Seulimeuem as Bank Aceh for a Seulimeuem branch has sparked tension among some people, especially those insufficiently informed about what 'to use' actually means. Although the plan to convert the house into a Bank Aceh building is not indicative of intension to misuse it, these people insisted on curbing the plan.

The Indonesian Law No. 11 year 2010 overtly guarantees the use of heritage sites under certain conditions. It needs to preserve the sites' materials and cherish them during the use. With this in mind, some narratives provoking that the Seulimeuem project violates the fatwa of the Aceh Ulama Council sounds somewhat pushy. So, one has to first bear in mind that perseverance is not always actualised by conserving the sites and fortify them from public access. Rather, it will be more practical to trust them on parties that can use and develop them, resulting in benefits for the people in the surroundings.

The house is located on the side of Medan-Banda Aceh highway around Seulimeuem market area. It is immediately visible for everyone from eastern part of Seulawah mountain heading to Banda Aceh. Before the project plan was announced, it has been used as the office of the Seulimeuem sub-district. Its construction has been enjoying unstructured renovation. Its wooden walls has been insulated here and there where necessary. No such heated tension ever felt before the project. Unhalted information circulation on media might contribute to this phenomenon.

A popular argument to reject the project is that the house harbours a memory of a Dayah student killing Controluer Tiggelman in 1942, the last year of Dutch occupation on Aceh and Indonesia due to Japanese dominance. Noteworthy is that during the first half of 1940s, there was a heated polarisation between traditional and modernist Muslim scholars. Dayah was, and still is, an education institution commonly associated with the former, while the latter was more popular with Madrasah type of institution. The attack towards the Controleur was actually conducted by a student of Masrasah Seulimeuem, not a Dayah. Simply put, careless use of both term can obscure the truth.

The house is located on the side of Medan-Banda Aceh highway around Seulimeuem market area. It is immediately visible for everyone from eastern part of Seulawah mountain heading to Banda Aceh. Before the project plan was announced, it has been used as the office of the Seulimeuem sub-district. Its construction has been enjoying unstructured renovation. Its wooden walls has been insulated here and there where necessary. No such heated tension ever felt before the project. Unhalted information circulation on media might contribute to this phenomenon.

A popular argument to reject the project is that the house harbours a memory of a Dayah student killing Controluer Tiggelman in 1942, the last year of Dutch occupation on Aceh and Indonesia due to Japanese dominance. Noteworthy is that during the first half of 1940s, there was a heated polarisation between traditional and modernist Muslim scholars. Dayah was, and still is, an education institution commonly associated with the former, while the latter was more popular with Madrasah type of institution. The attack towards the Controleur was actually conducted by a student of Madrasah Seulimeuem, not a Dayah. Simply put, careless use of both term can obscure the truth.

 

As a matter of fact, Madrasah Seulimeuem was once famed for its head, Teungku Abdul Wahhab, who was assigned as the head of PUSA (Association of Ulama all over Aceh) of Aceh Besar branch. In 1946 he served as the regent of Pidie and in from to 1953 to 1955 stayed in Saudi Arabia  working in the Indonesian Embassy there. Returning to Indonesia in 1955 he was trusted a positon in the Indonesian Department for Religious Affairs in Jakarta. He and another scholar with the same name Teungku Abdul Wahhab Seulimeum, the founder of Zawiyah Ruhul Fata, are sometimes regarded as one person. The latter was the one with the traditional school background, meaning the two are fairly different in terms of schools of Islamic thoughts they are preaching.

One important figure in the Aceh political history who was ever affiliated to Madrasah Seulimeuem is Prof. Aly Hasjmy, the first governor of Aceh. His modernist background of education, starting from Normal Islam in Bireuen to Al-Jami'ah Al-Islamiyah in Padang, equipped him sufficiently to do the task. Nowadays, the modernist group, being blamed for spreading Wahhabism, is marginalised and is not given sufficient space to preach their teachings. Not being honest to narrate the past contribution of this group in struggling against Dutch annexation can adversely affect the way the Acehnese public appreciate their history. During heydays of PUSA, the modernist group was extensively influential politically and socially. The domination is reserved by the traditionalist group today. This is indicative of the fact that Aceh has not been characterised solely with one unchangeable socio-political force. Rather, it was and is open to various preferences across generations.

Qalam scratches of Abu Falaky Teupin Raya

 

Lately I was blessed opportunity to visit the Islamic traditional school (dayah) of Darussa'adah situated in Sukon Mesjid village, Teupin Raya, in Pidie district. Being established in 1968, the dayah has already had 120 branches in and outside Aceh. An overt impression of this religious institution is the charisma of its founder, Teungku Muhammad Ali Irsyad – commonly recognised with the title Abu Falaky – which has been retaining currency in the people's memory.

His expertise in astronomy has been widely known in Aceh. One thing rarely discussed is the horiso of his knowledge which is much broader than that. In the dayah the students have to study Abu's works as mandatory instructional materials besides other kitabs that have been widely used in other dayahs across Aceh. As an enthusiast of Malay and Acehnese Islamic manuscripts, I was completely amazed to see the works of his own handwriting – produced during the time where electronical printing press was still not as accessible as it is these days. His hand was extremely calligraphic, immediately suggesting a high artistic taste of someone with deep chirographic experience.

His knack of swiftly combining various khats – be for the main texts of a kitab or other decorative parts like the cover – is a rare phenomenon to find in other ulama. Lamentable is that most of his original handwritten works are very much under-the-radar; it is told that they were carried away by the enermous tsunami that hit Aceh on December 2004. The remnants are the photocopies of them fortunately saved and multiplied for the use in the dayah and all its branches.

There is a unique trait observable in the Abu's works. The texts were written with fontsize that is relatively bigger that those of other kitabs commonly circulated in Acehnese traditonal schools. The interlinear space is broad enough, allowing the students or common readers to pencil notes therein. It also works for translation added if the texts are in Arabic. Based on information from one of Abu's students, the writing process of each kitab went quite carefuly. Before writing, he usually cut a manila paper himself, formed the size he wanted, and made subtle pencil lines on it as guideline to hold the text in even position.

The Abu student told me that there were 'unusual' occasions during the writing. Sometimes Abu got awake at midnight because of being surprised by 'inspiration' of what he had to include in his text. Every time such moment came, he never postponed to write. Occassionally, he could leave a draft for a quite long hiatus until such a magical moment came again. As a text is finished, Abu usually requested his students to do proofreading on it. He would make corrections for any errors found by the proofreaders so that the text become worth reading, thus ready for printing.

His intention to write is explicitly stated in the mukadimah (openings) of his works. He mainly aimed to help learners understand the contents of difficult kitabs faster. He selected important parts of the kitabs to elaborate them with concise and easy-understood commentaries. For example, he simplified the contents of several basic manuals for Arabic grammar like Taḥrīrulaqwāl dan Al-Ajurūmiyyah. He often used tables to accelerate readers' understanding of grammar formulas.

Moreover, his commentaries of some other works are in Acehnese language – the language spoken by the majority of his students and readers. Citing an example, in the opening of Badruddujā (the translation of Safīnatunnajā) he stated the reason why he used the language: " . . . li tashīli fahmihim wa naili ma’āribihim wa tazwīdihim yaqīnan fī ta‘allumihim . . ."  ("to accelerate their understanding and achive various objectives as well as equp them with certainty in learning.:). Preference to use local tongue with the same aim is also found in the opening of Irsyādulghabī (translation of Matnul Ghāyah wat-Taqrīb). He said: " . . . wa mā urīdu bihā illā tashīlan lil-mubtadī al-asyī fī ta‘allumil-fiqh . . ." ( . . . there is nothing I want with it but to make it easy for beginners among Acehnese people in learning Islamic law . . .")

These statements overtly indicate his insight about the signifinace of using first language someone speaks to speed up the way he understand materials in foreign languages. In the cloasing of Abul-‘ulūm (a guideline of Arabic grammar) he emphasised: "dan adalah kitab ini sengaja saya karang khusus untuk murid-murid bangsa Aceh yang minat belajar ilmu Nahwu karena terkandung di dalamnya cara-cara mengartikan kitab Arab dan cara-cara meng-i'rabnya seperti yang telah dipergunakan oleh ulama-ulama di Aceh yang dahulu" (and I composed this kitab especially for students of the Aceh nation who are enthusiast in learning grammar because it contains strategies to translate Arabic kitabs and unravel their structures as exemplified by Acehnese scholars in the past"). Regardless of today's debate on who is actually the Aceh nation, it seems that Abu believed that linguistic bondings  is one the most essential elements.

Tens of Abu Falaky's works constitue a concrete evident of how melodic the scholarship 'orchestra' was in the Dayah Darussa'adah. Some suggest the Abu's kitabs be retyped with computer so they could look more tidily. Nonetheless there are more people who choose to maintain the photocopies of the works. Because this is the way through which they can directly look into his pen scratches. More importantly, this is how they show respect and retain 'blessing' (berkat) of the works.

Indeed, most of Abu's writings are meant to be textbooks in his dayah. Among some of them that I read, I found a stunning literary feature. That is, the writing adopted the style of oral delivery as practiced by numerous teachers in traditional schools. This is what I recognised as orality, which is a process a text being communicated to the listeners when chirographic phase was still quite limited. This feature is also embedded in texts of entertainment genre such as hikayat which is usually performed before the crowd.

Perhaps, for some people, such a style of writing seems to ignore the standard of good, acceptable writing and violate the appropriate punctuation. That is why we heard offer for editing I mentioned above. As a matter of fact, this style constitutes adaptation of oral interaction between teachers and students in an instructional setting. Reading his writings makes it feels as if we directly attend Abu's class in flesh and listen to the typical Acehnese tone of his speech.

Abu clearly stated why he intended to write with this style. In the opening of Farādisuljinān (translation of Al-‘Awāmil al-Jurnānī) Abu clarified: ". . . dengan bahasan (cara) yang dipergunakan oleh kebanyakan ulama-ulama Aceh yang muktabar dahulu demi untuk mempercepat paham kitab-kitab Arab . . ." ( ". . . with discussion style as used by most of reliable Acehnese scholars in order to accelerate the understanding of Arabic books . . .").

Fortunately, day by day, the Dayah Darussa'adah becomes more famed and the number of its students rises. This means that traditional Acehnese education mode – despite some adjustments to fit modern dynamics – is still wanted by the society. It is hoped that scholarly activities to trace legacies of Acehnese ulama could enjoy more attention. So, more titles of their works become known to the public and not foreign in the land of their production.

Banda Aceh, March 03, 2022.

 

How to Make Red Ink for Malay Manuscripts

Red ink is the second most used ink in Malay manuscripts after the black one. Just like the black ink which can be produced using various pigment sources, the red ink recipes offer some basic ingredients from which the red pigment can be extracted. Here I would like to share how to make red ink from sapan wood.

Sapan wood--we call it bak seupeueng in Aceh--has long been used for multiple purposes such as herbal medicine and textile colouring substance. For the ink making, it has been used since the 12th century. Its red pigment comes from the substance called "brazilien" it contains; the term sounds like "Brazil", doesn't it? Let's talk about it at another time.

Other ingredients required are vinegar, alum, and gum Arabic. First of all, the sapan wood--the dried slices of the powder one--has to be soaked into the vinegar--I used an apple vinegar. For this, you would need a jar; I would recommend the one transparent so that you could follow the colour changes during the fermentation. The jar should then be left for 24 hours. 

Ingredients to make red in

Sapan wood is known with various names. In Aceh in particular, nowadays, its function as a colourant to make red ink is hardly heard anymore. Indeed, it is very easy to find the already dried sapan wood in traditional drugstore. But I think nobody in the store can get you the sapan wood if you mention "pohon sapan" (Indonesian) or "bak seupeung" (Acehnese). Rather, it is simply recognised as "pohon secang," the name with which it is more popular somewhere outside Aceh--e.g. in Java. 

To make the red ink, one needs to get the internal part of the wood, the part below its skin. In Banda Aceh, 200 gr dried slices of the wood costs only Rp. 5000 in traditional drugstore. However, it is better to use the wood powder if availble--I prefer this one. But since it not obtainable in Aceh, it ordered it online.

After that, boil the sapan-infused vinegar. Make sure you measure the volume of the liquid. You can simply use the end of your spoon handle. The boiling should leave only a half of the volume. In other words, once you dip the spoon end into the liquid, the surface level is the point before it is boiled, and it should shrink to remain a half of it.

While boiling, add one and a half spoon of alum. Here you would see how the brownish liquid instantly turns red because of chemical reaction. Then, add the gum Arabic. It is better to have the powder one. But, in Banda Aceh I could only obtain the one still in chunks which is not very suitable for the ink making.  Because it functions as the adhesive that binds the colour with paper when it used for writing. So, the powder one can diffuse better in the liquid .

As the liquid volume has shrinked into a half, you need to filter it to separate the ink from the sediment. I used gauze for this. But because it is a loosely woven cloth, some small sediment still could escape. So, I just did the filtering several times.  Now, the ink is ready to use.

Red ink test

Besides the sapan wood, red colour is also obtainable from cinnabar. The recipe includes green wallnut, green oak gall, Isfahani ithmid (kohl) and myrtle; all these have to be dried for 40 days before being mixed with water and put into a jar. The cinnabar is added thereafter to turn the mixture into red. However, I am not  sure if this is a recipe used for the Malay traditional ink.

Another colorant used to make red ink is Malabar spinach--we call it in Aceh "bak leumbayông." There are only few sources discussing the red pigment it has for ink making. I just heard it from my father saying he ever saw someone in his village using the plant to make ink. But he is not certain whether or not it was a red one. Recently, I've just bought a small leumbayông tree, hoping to make a red ink from it someday.

Leumbayông tree

Sources:

Armitage, A., & Beresford, L. (2013). Mapping the New World: Renaissance maps from the American Museum in Britain. Scala Arts & Heritage Publishers.

Ibn Bādīs. (1989). ‘Umdat al-Kuttāb wa ‘Uddatu Żawī al-Albāb. Masyhad: Majma‘ al-Buḥuṡ al-Islāmiyyah.