The Achehnese/Volume 1/Chapter 1

The Achehnese
by Christiaan Snouck Hurgronje, translated by Arthur Warren Swete O'Sullivan
Chapter I: Distribution of the People, Forms of Government and Administration of Justice
4137106The Achehnese — Chapter I: Distribution of the People, Forms of Government and Administration of JusticeArthur Warren Swete O'SullivanChristiaan Snouck Hurgronje

CHAPTER I.

DISTRIBUTION OF THE PEOPLE, FORMS OF GOVERNMENT
AND ADMINISTRATION OF JUSTICE.


§ 1. Introduction.

Boundaries of Great-Acheh.The limits of the kingdom of Acheh[1] in Sumatra are placed by the Achehnese themselves at Teumiëng (Tamiang) on the East Coast, but far more to the South on the Western Coast, viz. at Baros or whatever other point they regard as marking the boundary between the territory of the princes of Menangkabau and that of the Sultans of Acheh. Far more restricted, however, is the territory they describe as "Acheh" proper, or as we are wont to term it, "Great Acheh".

This kernel of the kingdom, which has supplied the outlying districts with a considerable portion of their inhabitants, and has constantly striven to exercise more or less dominion over them, is according to the Achehnese idea bounded by a line extending from Kluang on the West, to Kruëng Raya on the North Coast, and passing through Reuëngreuëng, Pancha and Janthòë[2].

The form of this, the true Acheh, the Achehnese delight to compare to that of a winnowing-basket (jeuʿèë), as may be seen in the

JEUʿÉË (WINNOWING BASKET). THE ACHEHNESE COMPARE THE FORM OF TRUE ACHEH TO THIS.

illustration[3]. The debouchement of the Acheh river (kuala Acheh) suggests to their fancy the somewhat sharply pointed mouth of the winnower, whence all unclean particles adhering to the husked rice are shaken out.

Proceeding down stream, we have the territory of the XXV Mukims[4] on the left and that of the XXVI Mukims on the right, the intervening space up to the broad belt of outlying country being occupied by the XXII Mukims. A comparison with the three angles of a triangle has still more deeply engrafted itself into the language; these three confederations or congeries of mukims are called the thèë sagòë (Mal. tiga sagi) i. e. the three angles of Acheh, and the three ulèëbalangs or chieftains who stand or are supposed to stand at the head of these three districts, are called panglima sagòë, or heads of sagi or angles.

History of Acheh.The history of this “triangular kingdom” and of the coast-states and islands which constituted its dependencies remains yet to be written. European sources of information, such as accounts of travels and extracts from old archives, can only furnish us with very fragmentary materials; yet it is to these that we should have to look for the basis of such a work. Malayan chronicles and the native oral tradition, though furnishing us with much of interest as regards the methods of thought of the writers and their coëvals, cannot be relied on as the groundwork of history. They are but collections of fabulous genealogies, legends and tales dressed up to suit the author’s fancy, which must be subjected to a careful process of filtration before they can be brought into unison with more solid materials.

Our present purpose is to describe how the Achehnese live and how they are governed, what they think and what they believe. As the present has ever its roots in the past, a retrospective glance over the earlier history of Acheh might be of great service to us in this enquiry were it not that, for the reasons just stated, this history is to a great extent wrapped in obscurity. As regards history, then, we limit ourselves to what our discussion of existing institutions brings to light en passant and for further information refer our readers to Prof. Veth's Atchin pp. 60 et seq., where the principal historical traditions are set forth in detail.

In the present chapter we propose to give a review of the distribution of population, the government and administration of justice as they existed before the Achehnese war introduced an element of confusion.

As a matter of fact, however, the disorder thus created has left the main features untouched; and anyone who has some knowledge of the public institutions of other kindred nations will if he follow our description be brought to the conclusion that these institutions in Acheh are in a large measure genuinely indigenous and of very great antiquity.

Significance of the manuscript documents respecting the institutions of the country.Our purpose differs from that aimed at by Mr. K. F. H. Van Langen in his essay on the system of government in Acheh under the Sultanate[5]. He takes as his chief sources of information one or two manuscript documents, known in Acheh under the name of sarakata. They contain decrees having the force of law and are ascribed to Sultans Meukuta Alam or Iskandar Muda (1607–1636) and to Shamsulalam, who reigned for a period of one month only (1726–27) according to the Achehnese chronicles. The writer has illustrated and completed the contents of these documents from the oral tradition of the Achehnese.

To assign their true value to these documents we must allow ourselves a slight digression.

It is abundantly clear from all the sources of Achehnese history, be they native or European, that there has never been an opportunity in Acheh for a regulated and normal development of forms of government or administration of justice. In vain do we seek in any period of her history for order and repose. It is not to be found even during the reigns of those princes who shed the greatest prosperity and lustre over the land, such as Alaudin al-Qahar[6], known also as Sidi Mukamil or Mukamal (1540–67), Eseukanda (Iskandar) Muda or Meukuta Alam (1607–36)[7], not to mention their successors.

Examined closely, this show of royal grandeur is found to consist in some enlargements of territory, increase of authority over the ports (which are the seats of civilization and wealth in all Malayan countries) and consequent increase of revenue, which gave rise to greater splendour at court, but no serious effort towards the establishment of solid institutions such as survive the overthrow of dynasties.

The only attempts at centralization of authority, or reformation whether social, political or religious, are precisely these very edicts which we have just referred to. Of the contents of these by no means ample political fragments it may be said that hardly a single one of the innovations they comprise has passed from document into actuality, but simply that the state of things they reveal as already in being has continued its existence.

It is not difficult to distinguish in these edicts the old and already established conditions from the new ones which they purport to introduce.

The principal features of this old status were the great independence of the numerous chiefs and the all-prevailing influence of traditional custom.

The new elements may be classified as follows:

1°. Attempts at an extension of the authority of the Sultan by allotting to him, the king of the port, a certain control over the succession of the other chieftains of the land—a matter which for the rest is treated in these edicts as inviolable—over the disputes of these chiefs with one another, or those between the subjects of different chiefs, and over the interests of strangers. In a word, some very moderate efforts at centralization of authority, having it for their object to make the Sultan primus inter pares; the establishment of a kind of indication of fealty, meant to serve as an open and visible reminder of the existence of such a relation between Sultan and chiefs.

2°. Certain rules intended to bring about a stricter observance of Muhammedan law.

3°. Regulations dealing with trade (then confined to the capital) the shares of certain officials established in the capital in the profits drawn from this trade by the king of the port, the court ceremonial, the celebration of great religious festivals etc.

During my residence in Acheh I obtained copies of a number of other sarakatas not included among those published by Van Langen. They were as a rule lengthy documents and most of them bore dates. The following are examples: one of Meukuta Alam or Eseukanda (Is-Muda, dated 1607, revived by the princess Sapiatōdin in 1645, intended kandar) to regulate the court ceremonial and solemnities at festivals (very rich in details); two of Meukuta Alam = Eseukanda (Iskandar) Muda, dated respectively 1635 and 1640 (sic); one of Jamalul-Alam (in Achehnese Jewumaloj) dated 1689, revived by Alaédin Juhan, the second prince of the latest dynasty, in 1752; one of Alaédin Mahmut dated 1766; and certain undated edicts of Sapiatōdin, Amat Shah Juhan (the first prince of the latest dynasty) and Badrudin Asém (Hashim), all dealing with commercial and port regulations as affecting different nationalities and different kinds of merchandise, and the collection and distribution of taxes. In these we even find detailed customs-tariffs[8].

These documents are identical in spirit and intention with those published by Van Langen; but they contain much more information as regards the ceremonial of court and festival and the collection and disposal of taxes on imports, and are occasionally at variance with the latter as regards details.

What has been the practical development of the three new elements introduced by these edicts?

The rules noticed under heading 3° above are those which have had most significance in actual practice. Of these we may say that they exercised, during the reign of their promulgator at least, some degree of authority over life and trade in the seaport town. To assert more than this is to go outside the bounds of probability and to come into conflict with unimpeachable data. Perpetual dynastic struggles leading to the death or downfall of the rulers, the unstable character of these rulers themselves, the endeavours of chiefs and officials even in the capital to promote their own authority and profit, the want of a proper machinery of government based on other principles than "might is right", all this and much more serves to establish the fact that in the history of Acheh no period can be pointed out in which even these regulations affecting the capital have passed current as the living law of the land.

The religious elements mentioned under heading 2° were certainly not introduced into the edicts through the zeal of the princes of Acheh, any more than the proclamations of appointments of Achehnese chiefs (as drawn at the Court down to the present time) can be said to owe their almost entirely religious contents to the piety of the princes or of the appointed chiefs themselves. A Moslim prince augments his prestige vastly by such concessions to the law of his creed, albeit a serious and strict application of the latter would greatly curtail his power and impede his actions. Besides (and this is a most important factor) the supporters of the sacred law have in such countries no inconsiderable influence over the people, so that it might be dangerous for the princes and chiefs to disregard their wishes and requirements[9]. This is fully understood by these potentates, most of whom, while they follow their own devices in the actual administration of government, are wont outwardly to show all possible honour to the upholders of religion, to declare verbally that they set the highest value on their wisdom, and now and then, merely as a matter of form, to grant them access to their councils.

Such has been the system of the Achehnese sovereigns. Ulamas and other more or less sacred persons enjoyed considerable distinction in their country and at their court. They used even to "give orders" for the compiling of manuals of theology and law, which in plain language meant that they made a money payment to the writer of such a book. They would even allow themselves occasionally to be persuaded by some person of unusual influence to undertake a persecution of heretics, which however generally proved quite abortive. In their legislative edicts, which are almost all devoted to questions of trade and court affairs, they have in a fashion of their own rendered unto God the things that are God's, and so far as these ordinances confine themselves to what we should call a purely religious sphere, we have no reason to doubt the good intentions of the law-givers. Though their fleshly weakness was apparent from their irreligious life, their spirit was willing enough to remember the life hereafter, when the question came up of the building of mosques, the apportioning of money for religious purposes, the dispensing of admonitions or even the threatening of punishment for neglect of religious duties. But of any effort to introduce a system of government and administration of justice in harmony with the Mohammedan law we can gather nothing from the language of the edicts. They render in a purely formal manner due homage to the institutions ordained of Allah, which are everywhere as sincerely received in theory as they are ill-observed in practice[10].

Still more exclusively formal are the admonitions dispensed to the chiefs in the royal deeds of appointment. One might almost assert that the raja of Acheh who sanctioned the form of these documents must have charged his ulamas with the acceptable task of drawing them up.

Thus Acheh had sovereigns who were lauded to the skies, especially after their death, by ulamas and other pious persons who basked in the sun of their good deeds and who actually saw some of their own devout wishes realized; yet religion had little influence on the formation of her political system, less even than might be assumed from the dead letter of isolated edicts of the port-kings.

It requires no proof to show that not one of these cautious efforts at centralization of authority mentioned above under head 1°, seriously enough meant though they were, was eventually crowned with success. The most powerful sultans dared not go further than to claim a certain right of interference, constituting themselves as it were a supreme court of arbitration. It may at once be concluded how far the rest of the petty rulers of both sexes progressed in this direction, weak and indolent as they were in disposition and fully taken up with anxiety to maintain their authority in their own immediate circle. So far from lording it over the Achehnese chiefs, they were compelled to seek their favour so as not to lose their own position as kings of the ports.

Besides this it must be considered that though the Achehnese sovereigns might have gained some increase of prestige from the establishment of their authority in the interior, still this was not of sufficient importance to induce them to make great sacrifices to win it. It is the ports, let it be repeated, that constitute the wealth and strength of states such as these.

Where a port-king possesses the means and the energy to extend what he has already got, he prefers to stretch his covetous hand towards other ports, and tries to divert their trade to himself or to render them tributary. This he finds much better than meddling with the districts, desert and inhospitable both in a spiritual and material sense, which hide the sources of his kualas or river-mouths.

Nor do these rulers endeavour to ensure the permanence of their dominion in other ports which they have subdued by taking as its basis the introduction of an orderly form of government. The conquerors are content with the recognition of their supremacy and the payment of dues.

Thus it is very easy to show how the rajas of Acheh during the short-lived period of prosperity of their kingdom, kept the trading ports within a wide compass in subjugation with their fleets, but never got any further in the control of the interior than the issue of a few edicts on paper.

We must not then allow ourselves to be misled by these edicts, valuable as they are as sources of information as to the history of the kings of Acheh. The danger of such error presents itself in two ways.

In the first place, the Achehnese himself, when questioned as to the institutions of his country, will refer with some pride to these documents, notwithstanding that most Achehnese have never seen copies of them and are almost entirely unacquainted with their contents.

The ordinary Achehnese does this, because all that recalls to him the greatness of his country is closely connected with the names of those very princes who are generally regarded as the authors of the sarakatas. He firmly believes that all that he reveres as the sacred institutions of his country (albeit not mentioned in a single one of the edicts) is adat[11] Meukuta Alam or at any rate adat pòten meureuhōm, "adat of defunct royalties", and he is convinced that information respecting them is of a certainty contained in some one or other of the sarakatas.

The Achehnese chiefs have a secondary aim when they refer with a certain emphasis to these edicts as the laws of Acheh. All that is contained therein respecting court ceremonial, festivals, religion etc., they regard with complete indifference; but every one of them is skilful in making quotations from the adats of the old sovereigns handed down in writing or by word of mouth, which may go to show that his power, his territory, or his privileges should in reality be much greater than what he enjoys at the present time.

The European who comes into contact only superficially with the native community, is too apt to think that the adat among them is an almost unchangeable factor of their lives, surrounded on every side with religious veneration. Yet it does not require much philosophic or historical knowledge to be convinced that such invariable elements subsist just as little in the native world as in our own, although among them the conscious reverence for all that is regarded as old and traditional is stronger than in our own modern societies. In contrast to the changeableness of the individual, the adat presents itself as something abiding and incontrovertible, with which that individual may not meddle; yet the adat changes like all other worldly things with every successive generation,—nay, it never remains stationary for a moment. Even natives, whose intelligence is above the ordinary, know this well and use it to further their own purposes.

The slowly but surely changing institutions of their society are thus revered as fixed and unchangeable by its individual units. But it is precisely in this connection that opportunity is given for continual disputes as to the contents of the adat[12]. What is, in fact, the real and genuine adat, that which according to unimpeachable witnesses was formerly so esteemed, or that which the majority follow in practice at the present day, or that which many, by an interpretation opposed to that of the majority, hold to be lawful and permitted?

Most questions of importance give rise to this three-fold query, and the answer is, as may be readily supposed, prompted by the personal interest of him who frames it.

Our object being to arrive at some knowledge of the institutions of the country, it is impossible for us to accept the reference of the Achehnese to the edicts of the kings of olden times, which are absolute mysteries to most of them, whilst others construe them to suit themselves.

Even apart from the danger of accepting such reference as gospel, the European is exposed to a further risk, namely of misunderstanding the true signification of such edicts. Accustomed to the idea that all law should be suitably drawn in writing, he is apt to be overjoyed at coming on the track of a collection of written ordinances, especially in a place characterized by such hopeless confusion as the Achehnese states. So when he perceives that there is now little or no actual observance of these laws, he rushes to the conclusion that at an earlier period order and unity preceded the present misrule. The very contrary of this can be proved to be the case as far as Acheh is concerned. As a general rule we do not sufficiently reflect that in countries of the standard of civilization reached by the Malayan races, the most important laws are those which are not set down in writing, but find their expression, sometimes in proverbs and familiar sayings, but always and above all in the actual occurrences of daily life which appeal to the comprehension of all.

Speaking of Acheh only, there will be found described hereafter laws which control the relation of chief to subject, of man to wife and children, laws which everyone in Acheh observes and every village headman has at his fingers' ends; and yet of all these living laws no single written document testifies[13], though every single sentence of an Achehnese judge bears witness to their existence.

Such has been the case all over the East Indian Archipelago. Whoever would introduce by force an alteration in existing legal institutions found it necessary to reduce his innovation to writing, but those who were content to leave things as they were, seldom resorted to codification of the customary law. Whether changes such as these are abiding or disappear after a brief show of life, the writing remains as their witness; it is the life of the people alone that testifies of institutions which have withstood the attack of external change and modify themselves intrinsically by almost imperceptible degrees.

One might even assert that where codification of the customary law has been purposely resorted to (as in the undang-undang[14] of certain Malay states) this embodiment in writing is a token that the institutions in question are beginning to fall into decay[15]. Collections of documents of this sort offer to the conscientious enquirer a string of conundrums impossible of solution, unless he be thoroughly conversant with the actual daily life of native society, of the traditions of which such legal maxims form but a small part.

What we have said above perhaps renders it superfluous to add that we should be wandering altogether off the right track in seeking for the laws and institutions of countries such as Acheh in lawbooks of foreign (e. g. Arabic) origin. Such works are it is true, translated, compiled and studied in the country, but their contents have only a limited influence on the life of its people[16]. It is owing to a misconception of this very obvious truth that the entirely superficial enquiry of Mr. der Kinderen (or his secretary Mr. L. W. C. Van den Berg) has proved abortive, as may be seen from his "explanatory memorandum" just referred to. To any one who has made himself acquainted with the political and social life of the Achehnese, his remarks on pp. 17–18 of his memorandum will sound as audacious as they are untrue: "Nor indeed is there any trace of ancient popular customs in conflict with Islam, at least in the sense that would indicate a customary law having its existence in the consciousness of the people, as is the case for example with the characteristic institutions regarding the law of person and inheritance which we meet with among the Malays on the west coast of Sumatra. The native chiefs when questioned as to such popular customs, either gave evasive answers, or quoted as such certain rules for the ceremonial in the Kraton, the distinctive appellations of various chiefs etc., all of course institutions of a wholly different sort from what was intended by the enquirer. Apparently they misunderstood the drift of the question and confused the material with the formal and administrative law. Only one of them, who, it may be remarked was no Achehnese by birth, but of Afghan descent, absolutely denied the existence of any legal institutions conflicting with the Mohammedan law.

· · · · ·
"We find in existence undang-undang or collections of such public ordinances attributed to various Achehnese rulers, all dealing with trade, navigation, import and export duties, administration and ceremonial. Sultan Iskandar Muda (1607–1636) in particular appears to have applied himself to calling into existence a system of rules on these subjects. His code, if we may so term it, is called Makota Alam [17] or Adat Kanun, but copies of this are rare."

No one could have recorded in a more naive manner the want of intelligence which he brought to bear on his enquiry.

The Achehnese in general and their chiefs in particular will have themselves Mohammedans and nothing else. Within a few years previous to the visit of Mr. der Kinderen to Acheh, they had for the first time come under the control of a non-Mohammedan power, and regarded their new masters with distrust, all the more as a rumour had gone abroad that the "Gōmpeuni"[18] was everywhere endeavouring to introduce its Christian laws and to draw the Mohammedans away from their own religion. No wonder then that the chiefs "gave an evasive answer", or imparted little pertinent information in reply to the foolish query of Mr. der Kinderen and his friends (who had never come into contact with the people) as to whether there were ancient customs prevalent in Acheh conflicting with the law of Islam. Supposing it to be true that they "did not understand the meaning of the question", the blame for this rests on him who asked it. It is undoubtedly the easiest way to conduct an enquiry to address a sort of catechism to some individuals, and then to accept as of solid worth any follies they may choose to retail to you in reply, but to do so is to trifle with a serious subject.

The chiefs were naturally afraid that an affirmative answer might give rise to all kinds of new enactments "in conflict with the law of Islam". Besides, they would be very slow to admit that any of their institutions was in conflict with Islam, and indeed are as a rule quite ignorant as to whether such is the case or not, being neither jurists nor theologians. They are all trained up in the doctrine that adat (custom law) and hukōm (religious law) should take their places side by side in a good Mohammedan country—not in the sense inculcated by the Moslim law-books[19], that they should fall back on the adat whenever the hukōm is silent or directs them to do so—, but in such a way that a very great portion of their lives is governed by adat and only a small part by hukōm. They are well aware that the ulamas[20] often complain of the excessive influence of the adat and of its conflict with the kitabs or sacred books, but they do not forget that they have themselves cause to complain of the ambition of these ulamas. They account for this conflict by the natural passion all men feel for extending their authority, a passion they believe would be reduced to a minimum or altogether extinguished if all men tried to be just. They see herein no conflict between Mohammedan and non-Mohammedan elements, but between Moslim rulers who "maintain the adat" according to the will of God, and Moslim pandits who "expound the hukōm", both of which parties, however, sometimes overstep their proper limits.

They have no touchstone to distinguish exactly between what is in accordance with Islam and what conflicts therewith. All their institutions they regard as those of a Mohammedan people and thus also Mohammedan, and these they wish to guard against the encroachments of the kāfir[21].

That Mr. Der Kinderen and his friends found "no trace of popular customs in conflict with Islam" or of "a customary law having its existence in the consciousness of the people", is as natural as the disappointment of an angler who tries to catch salmon in a wash-tub. They exist all the same, these adats, they control the political and social life of Acheh, but—pace all dogmatic jurists and champions of facile methods—they are nowhere to be found set down in black and white. We arrive at them only after painstaking and scientific research and not through the putting of questions which the questioned "apparently do not understand".

To be explicit and avoid all misunderstanding, we should add that Mr. Der Kinderen in a later part of his memorandum (pp. 10 et seq.) states the case as though this faithful observance of Mohammedan law had existed originally in Acheh at an earlier epoch, while the few adats conflicting therewith had crept in later on during the period of anarchy and corruption. "The Achehnese chiefs", he goes on to say, "with whom we conferred, unanimously desired the maintenance of Islam and nothing more".

We shall see later on, when we come to examine the question in detail, that this comparison between an orderly past resting on the basis of the Mohammedan law and a disorderly present, is entirely chimerical and rests on false or inexactly stated data. These premisses for instance are false, that in earlier times many works on Mohammedan law were composed by Achehnese, that general ignorance now prevails as to the contents of these or that the wholly unlettered Teuku Malikōn Adé was supreme judge of the kingdom of Acheh. The ignorance of the chiefs in regard to Mohammedan law is wrongly explained; it is in fact an ignorance which they share with the rulers of most Mohammedan countries.

Nature of the popular and political institutions of Acheh.We postpone for the present the closer refutation of these extravagances. Let us now fix our attention on the fact that the non-Mohammedan institutions of the Achehnese, which we are now about to describe, and which taken together form a well-rounded whole, exhibit themselves to the scientific observer after comparison with those of other kindred peoples, as really indigenous and wholly suitable to the state of civilization in which the Achehnese have moved as long as we have known them. In vain shall we seek for any period in the history of Acheh in which we should be justified in surmising the existence of a different state of things. All that we know further of that history makes it patent that neither the efforts of the ulamas to extend the influence of the Mohammedan law, nor the edicts of certain princes whose authority over the interior was very limited and of short duration, were able to exercise more than a partial or passing influence on the genuinely national and really living unwritten laws.

The golden age of Acheh in which "the Mohammedan law prevailed" (see p. 16 of Mr. Der Kinderen's memorandum), or in which the Adat Meukuta Alam may be regarded as the fundamental law of the kingdom, belongs to the realms of legend. If we wish to become acquainted with the institutions of Acheh we must, in default of any written sources of information, devote ourselves to the study of their political and judicial systems and family life as they subsist at the present time. In these we can easily discover some traces of the centralizing activity of one or two powerful princes, an important measure of influence exercised by Islam and a still more important basis of indigenous adat law.

It must be borne in mind that even the most primitive societies and the laws that govern them never remain stationary. Keeping this in view it becomes easy to trace here and there efforts after change, and elsewhere again institutions which have already passed into disuse and owe their continued existence in a rudimentary form simply to the force of human conservatism. This makes us careful in forming judgments as to the antiquity of any given institution taken by itself, as we are not fully acquainted with the factors which may in earlier times have exercised a modifying influence. Still we are able with one glance over the whole existing customary law of Acheh to assert without fear of error that the institutions of that country do not date from yesterday but that, (disregarding alterations in details), they have in all main essentials existed for centuries past.


§ 2. Elements of Population.

In Acheh we have to deal, not with an originally powerful monarchy which gradually split up into small parcels, but with a number of little states barely held together by the community of origin of their citizens and the nominal supremacy of the port-king. We must obviously therefore, in describing the political fabric of Acheh, work upwards from below; and as in that country all authority of the higher classes over the lower is exceedingly limited, we must first devote our attention to the people who inhabit Great Acheh[22].

Origin of the Achehnese.We have at our disposal no single historical datum from which we can deduce any likely conclusion as to the origin of the Achehnese. We can only allege on various grounds that it must have been of a very mixed description.

A comparison of the Achehnese language (which exhibits noteworthy points of difference from the kindred tongues of neighbouring peoples), with those of Cham and Bahnar[23] has at the very outset given important results, but we must for the present refrain from deciding what may be deduced therefrom as regards the kinship or historical connection between the peoples.

Of the information supplied by the Achehnese themselves as to their descent, we furnish here only such particulars as may be classed as popular tradition. Outside the limits of this tradition every Achehnese chief and ulama who takes any interest in the question has his own conjectures, partly in conflict with the traditions and partly grafted on to them.

Achehnese theories.To the sphere of these conjectures belongs almost all that can be gathered from the Achehnese as to the Hindu element in their origin. It is past all doubt that Hinduism exercised for a considerable time a direct or indirect influence on the language and civilization of Acheh, though there is but little trace of such influence remaining in her present popular traditions and institutions. Even in Mohammedan times there are numerous indications of contact with the inhabitants of India; it is indeed more than probable that Acheh, like other countries of the Indian Archipelago, was mohammedanized from Hindostan. Not only Mohammedan Klings and people from Madras and Malabar, but also heathen Klings, Chetties[24] and other Hindus, have carried on trade in Acheh down to the present time, and there has been from first to last no serious opposition to the permanent establishment in the country of such kafirs, harmless as they were from a political point of view. For all that, the question as to what Hindus or people with Hindu civilization[25] they were, who exercised a special influence in Acheh, or what the period was when this influence made itself felt, remains enveloped in doubt. Still less is it certain in what degree Hindu blood flows in the veins of the Achehnese.

How these conjectures sometimes originate and gain credit in Acheh may be illustrated by an experience of my own in that country. The well-known Teungku Kutakarang, an ulama and leader in war [died November 1895] upholds, among other still more extraordinary notions, the view that the Achehnese are composed of elements derived from three peoples, the Arabs, the Persians and the Turks. Both in conversation and in his fanatical pamphlets against the "Gōmpeuni" he constantly refers to this theory.

Though he has absolutely no grounds for this absurd idea, those who look up to him as a great scholar think that he must have a good foundation for it, and accept his ethnological theories without hesitation. While I was engaged in collecting Achehnese writings and was making special efforts to secure copies of one or two epic poems based on historic facts, an Achehnese chief suggested to me that I should not find what I wanted in these. He declared himself ready to write me out a short abstract of the history of Acheh containing a clear account of the origin of the Achehnese from Arab, Persian and Turkish elements! "Of this", said he, "you will find no mention in the poems you seek for".

The only fact that popular wisdom can point to as regards the Hindus, is that the inhabitants of the highlands of the interior are manifestly of Hindu origin, since they wear their hair long and twist it into a top-knot (sanggōy) on the back of the head in the Hindu fashion.

ManteThere are other stories in circulation about the Mante or Mantras[26], but these are equally undependable. They remind me of what I once heard said of the tailed Dyaks reputed to exist in Borneo; the existence of these people, my informant remarked, appeared quite probable from what one heard of them all over Borneo, but they always seem to live one day further inland from the point reached by the traveller.

These Mantes are supposed to go naked and to have the whole of their bodies thickly covered with hair, and are believed to inhabit the mountains of the XXII Mukims; but all our informants know them only by hearsay. One here and there will tell you that in his grandfather's time a pair of Mantes, man and wife, were brought captive to the Sultan of Acheh. These wild denizens of the woods, however, in spite of all efforts, refused either to speak or eat and finally starved themselves to death.

In Achehnese writings and also in the speech of everyday life, rough clownish and awkward people are compared with the Mante. The word is also used in the lowlands as a nickname for the less civilized highlanders, and is applied in the same sense to the people of mixed descent on the West Coast.

Malay and Kling elements.Another contemptuous appellation of the West Coast people is aneuʾ jamèë (descendants of strangers or guests), or aneuʾ Rawa, (people from the province of Rawa), to which latter nickname the epithet "tailed" (meuʾiku) is also added[27]. That these tailed or tail-less strangers contributed their quota to the composition of the Achehnese race is as little doubted as that the multitude of Klings (Kléug, ureuëng dagang[28]) in Great Acheh and on the East Coast have brought more half-caste progeny into the world than now commands recognition as such. There have been within the memory of man a large number of Klings in the highlands of Great Acheh (XXII Mukims) living entirely as Achehnese and engaged in agriculture. There were even gampōngs, such as Lam Aliëng, the entire population of which consisted of such hybrid Klings. In Great-Acheh the word ureuëngdagang = stranger is employed without any further addition to indicate a Kling.

The shares contributed by all these foreign elements and also the Arabs, Egyptians and Javanese are rightly regarded as having a merely incidental influence on the Achehnese race. In the capital and the coast towns of tributary states, they form an item of greater importance, for it is precisely the most influential families that are of foreign origin. All the holy men and most of the noted scholars of the law in Acheh were foreigners. So too with many great traders, shahbandars, writers and the trusted agents of princes and chiefs; nay, the very line of kings which has ruled with some interruptions since 1723 is according to tradition of Bugis origin.

Nias slaves.Slaves are a factor of importance in the development of the Achehnese race. Most of these slaves come from Nias (Niëh), whence they were kidnapped in hundreds up to a few years ago, and are still surreptitiously purchased in smaller numbers.

It is worthy of note that the story current in Acheh as to the origin of the Niasese resembles that which prevails among the Javanese as to the Kalangs[29]. The same story in a modified form is popular in Bantén, but in the absence of Kalangs it is there applied to the Dutch.

A princess who suffered from a horrible skin-disease was for this cause banished to Niëh. (Achehnese pronunciation of Nias), with only a dog to bear her company. On that island she found many peundang plants, and gradually became acquainted with the curative properties of the peundang root[30].

It is not clearly stated what the circumstances were which induced her to marry her dog[31]; but we are informed that from this wedlock a son was born. When he grew up he wished to marry; but Nias was uninhabited. His mother gave him a ring to guide him in his search for a bride; the first woman he met whom the ring fitted was to be his destined wife.

He wandered throughout the whole island without meeting a single woman; finally he found his mother again and the ring fitted her! So they wedded and from this incestuous union is descended the whole population of Nias.

In this legend typifying the vileness of the origin of the Niasese there is wanting one feature which characterizes the Javanese myth of the Kalangs. Both have in common the dog and the incestuous marriage, but the Kalangs have in addition to this as their ancestress the most unclean of all animals, the swine. The princess who lived in the wilderness is in the Kalang legend the offspring of a wild sow, which became her mother in a miraculous manner[32].

Thus although no swine appears in the genealogical legend as forming part of the family tree of the Niasese, the story goes that they are the descendants of dogs and swine, and there is a doggerel verse in ridicule of the Niasese or persons of mixed Nias descent which runs as follows;—

"Niëh kumudèë—uròë bèë buy, malam bèë asèë i. e. "Niasese, that eats běngkudu fruits[33], smells like a pig in the daytime and like a dog at night".

In spite of all these sayings and stories (to which may be added the fact that kurab or ringworm is still very prevalent among the Niasese), the Achehnese set a high value on these people as slaves. They describe them as tractable, obedient, zealous and trustworthy. The women are more highly prized for their beauty than those of the dominant race, and many of the boys who as sadati (dancers) or otherwise are made to minister to the unnatural lusts of the Achehnese are of Niasese origin.

Later on when we come to describe the family life of the Achehnese, we shall see that he lays great stress on descent from the mother's side. Thus no Achehnese willingly becomes the father of children by his female slaves, although such a practice is freely admitted by Moslim law. It is for this reason that the intercourse of masters with their female slaves is very limited in comparison with other Mohammedan countries, and where it does take place, recourse is had to various methods to avert or nullify its natural consequences. All the same there is a certain proportion of children born of such concubinage.

There are, however, other channels through which Niasese blood has found its way into the veins of the Achehnese. For instance it not uncommonly occurs that a man who makes a long stay in a particular place, marries the slave of one of his friends or patrons. It even happens at times that an Achehnese makes such a marriage at or in the neighbourhood of his own home, setting at defiance the reproaches and hatred of his next of kin for the sake of the beauty of the woman he has chosen.

According to the Moslim law children born of such unions are the slaves of the owner of the mother, for when the question is one of slavery or freedom the children follow the mother as a matter of course. The Achehnese adat, on the other hand, treats them as free; but their origin is indicated by the name aneuʾ meuïh ("children of gold", i. e. of proprietorship), and thus not at once lost sight of. A generation or two later the name aneuʾ meuïh is dropped, and their descendants become Achehnese.

Children born of marriages between slaves (generally of the same master) are themselves slaves in Acheh; but many owners set their slaves free in later life. Such free Niasese do not except in rare cases intermarry with Achehnese women; their children, however, may take wives of mixed Achehnese and Niasese descent, and in the third generation they too are Achehnese, though with a slight Nias taint.

Those who can only keep one or two male slaves generally let these remain unmarried their whole life long, the supposition being that they will find frequent opportunities of intercourse with their own countrywomen.

The Achehnese are on their own confession indolent and little fitted for regular work. This is the reason they give for the occasional importation of rice into a country possessing vast tracts of uncultivated ground[34]. There is no doubt that in days gone by they used to get their work done for them by the Niasese. Not only did they employ them for ordinary tillage and for pepper cultivation, but also as soldiers in the endless little wars that divided the country against itself. Thus it is said that during the civil war of 1854–58 of between Raja Sulòyman (Suléman) and his guardian Raja Ibrahim[35], the supporters of the latter in particular usually employed Niasese to carry out all operations against the enemy.

Bataks.In comparison with the Niasese, the number of slaves of other races in Acheh is inconsiderable. Male Bataks[36] (but very seldom females) are occasionally kept as slaves, but the character given them is as bad as that of the Niasese is good. The Bataks are spoken of as unwilling, lazy and revengeful. Every Achehnese can furnish plentiful examples of this either from his own experience or what he has heard from others—how one Batak has treacherously murdered his master through anger at a trifling chastisement, and another after having been treated with the utmost kindness has made himself scarce after putting his masters children to death, and so on[37].

Other elements.Some few persons of position have permitted themselves the luxury of importing Chinese female slaves from the Straits Settlements as concubines[38]. Still more common is it to see slaves brought home from Mekka by those who have performed the Hajj. These Africans are known by the Achehnese under the generic name of Abeusi[39] (Abyssinians) irrespectively of what may be the land of their birth. Concubinage with female slaves of such origin is extremely rare; they are allowed to marry among themselves or with Niasese slaves. It is considered a mark of distinction to have such Abeusis as household servants[40].

Achehnese slave-law.As we noticed above, the Achehnese slave-law is not wanting in departures from the Mohammedan code. To these may be added the fact that it is everywhere thought natural and permissible for all who acquire slaves at once to violate their female captives. Even in Arabia the prescribed period of abstention in regard to purchased female slaves is seldom or never observed[41], but in Acheh no disgrace whatever attaches to its violation, and most of the transgressors are absolutely ignorant that they are sinning against that very law which they look upon as sanctioning kidnapping.

In the highlands far fewer slaves are kept than in the lowlands, as in the former there is less to be found of all that tends to make life easy or pleasant.

What has been said suffices to indicate the races which have in historic times contributed to ennoble or degrade the people of Acheh. Apart from this we must accept that people as an established unity, and conjectures regarding its remoter origin would at this point be premature.

Highlanders and lowlanders.The people of the various divisions of Great Acheh differ from one another, as may well be imagined, in numerous local peculiarities of language, manners, superstition, dress etc. Most of these local distinctions, when compared with the agreement in essential features are too insignificant to be noticed here. We should however note the differences between the highlanders (ureuëng tunòng), by which must be especially understood the people of the Sagi of the XXII Mukims, and the lowlanders (ureuéng barōh) who inhabit the greater part of the two remaining sagis, including the capital.

Some portions of these last two sagis have almost the same language and customs as the ureuëng tunòng, as for instance the ureuëng Buëng inhabiting the VII Mukims Buëng[42] in the Sagi of the XXVI Mukims.

Banda and dusōn.As regards language and manners the lowlanders have followed the people of the capital[43]. The Dalam or residence of the Sultan, which we incorrectly term Kraton, and which is also known as Kuta Raja or "the king's fort" (a name which we improperly apply to the whole capital) formed before our war with Acheh the nucleus of a number of fine and prosperous gampōngs. The centre of these with its mosque and market-place was called Banda Acheh i. e. the capital or trading mart of Acheh, and gave the tone to the whole country in matters of custom, dress etc. The most important of these gampōngs were Gampōng Jawa, Pandé, Peunayōng, Lam Bhuʾ, Luëng Bata, Lam Seupeuëng, Ateuëng, Batòh and Meuraʾsa. The inhabitants of these and the neighbouring villages together with their language and customs were distinguished by the epithet banda, that is, town-bred or civilized, and the people of other districts who conformed as much as possible to the tone of the capital enjoyed the same title. In contrast with these, all others who spoke in their own local dialects and were unacquainted with the manners of the town, were called dusōn (like dusun in Sundanese) i. e. countrified, uncivilized. From their position the lowlanders in general came most closely into contact with the influence of the trading centre, whilst ureuéng dusōn and ureuëng Tunòng became practically synonymous; but with this distinction, that families of standing in the Tunòng conformed as far as possible to the manners of the capital, whilst in the more distant of the lowland districts the influence of the Banda Acheh is scarcely traceable.


§ 3. Dress, Food, Luxuries, Dwellings and Household equipment.

Clothing.In dress and deportment to begin with, there is a difference between the true Tunòng folk and those of the lowland districts[44].

The peculiar Achehnese trousers (silueuë or lueuë Achèh) of prodigious width are characteristic of both, and both alike regard the fullness in the fork of this garment as an indication of Mohammedan dress in contradistinction with the tight forks of the trousers of infidels. Those worn by the lowlanders on the other hand are longer, and the materials most in use differ from those employed in the Tunòng. The loin-cloth (ija pinggang) is similarly in the eyes of both a shibboleth of Islam, as it is only infidels that feel no shame in exhibiting themselves in close-fitting trousers without further covering of the space between navel and knee. But while the Tunòng man lets his loincloth hang down to below the knees with a flap in the centre, with the lowlander it barely extends to just above the knees and its lower edge is aslant.

The lowlanders usually wear bajus or jackets (bajèë), either the bajèë Achèh[45] with long narrow sleeves and a big gold button (dōʾma) in the middle, or the bajèë ᶜèt sapay (short-sleeved baju) the dōʾma of which is at the neck. The highlanders make comparatively little use of this garment and wear in its place simply a kerchief (ija) thrown over the shoulder or fastened round the middle or else laid on the head. The head, however, is not always covered, for the Achehnese carry loads almost exclusively thereon, which method of transport they call seuʾōn.

GROUP OF MEN FROM THE XXV MUKIMS.
GROUP OF MEN FROM THE XXV MUKIMS.

GROUP OF MEN FROM THE XXV MUKIMS.

The usual form of headgear is the kupiah[46], which greatly resembles the Mekka cap in colour. The body of the cap, which is cylindrical in shape, is made of close-pressed tree-cotton divided into narrow vertical ribs by stitching on the lining. On this thin strips of silk or cotton stuffs of various colours are worked together in such a manner as to give the impression when seen from a distance of a piece of coarse European worsted-work. Between these ribs is often fastened gold thread spreading at the top into ornamental designs. The centre of the crown is adorned with a prettily-shaped knot of gold or silver thread. In contradistinction to the Mekka cap, which is much lower in the crown, the Achehnese call theirs kupiah meukeutōb; a kerchief is sometimes wound round its lower edge as turban (tangkuloʾ), but it is just as often left uncovered. The highlander draws his long hair into a knot on the top of his head, and covers it with his cap, while the lowlander, if he do not shave his head from pious motives, lets his hair hang down loose on his neck from beneath it. In the lowland districts, too, the single headcloth or tangkuloʾ is more worn than in the Tunòng, and as in Java the origin of the wearer may be inferred from the manner of folding it. The prevailing fashion in such matters is however very liable to change. During my stay in Acheh a new method of wearing the headcloth was in vogue amongst the younger men. It was carried forward in the form of a cornucopia, a fashion said to have been set by the young pretender to the sultanate.

The reunchōng or rinchōng, a dagger with one sharp edge, and the bungkōih ranub or folded kerchief are alike indispensable to the Achehnese when he walks abroad. In the latter are placed all requisites for betel-leaf chewing, in ornamental and often costly little boxes or cases. Its four corners are held together by gold or copper bòh ru[47], and it also forms the receptacle of sundry pretty little toilet requisites, keys etc.

Persons of position or those who are going on a journey carry in addition the Achehnese sword (sikin panyang) which is the ordinary weapon used in fighting. It is of uniform width from end to end, and is placed in a sheath. The gliwang (klewang) which is carried for show by the followers of chiefs, or taken on expeditions to market or nightly walks in the gampōng, is worn without a sheath.

The Tunòng folk take with them on a journey in addition to the above, two javelins (kapfaʾ) and a spear (tumbaʾ), as well as a firearm of some description[48].

The dress of the women, while in the main identical in the Tunòng and Barōh, presents one or two points of difference. In both districts they wear over the Achehnese trousers an ija pinggang, but in the

PEOPLE FROM THE XXVI MUKIMS.
PEOPLE FROM THE XXVI MUKIMS.

PEOPLE FROM THE XXVI MUKIMS.

lowlands this hangs down to the feet, while in the highland districts it comes hardly lower than that of the men. Women in general wear a bajèë, but its sleeves are comparatively narrower in the Tunòng, and the edging (keureuyay) at neck and sleeves is more ornamental in the lowlands. A cloth (ija sawaʾ) is thrown over the shoulders in the same way as the Javanese slendang or scarf. The women of the lowlands use another cloth (ija tōb ulèë) of the same description to cover the head when going out of doors. Locks of hair (kundè) are generally worn hanging in front of both ears. The chignon (sanggōy) is among the lowland women placed on the centre of the crown, and divided into two portions suggesting a pair of horns[49], while the Tunòng women either carry the topknot entirely to one side, or let it hang down behind in the form of a sausage[50].

The remaining articles of personal adornment exhibit few differences. Girls and women who have not yet had more than one child, wear

MAN FROM THE XXII MUKIMS WITH HIS WIFE.
MAN FROM THE XXII MUKIMS WITH HIS WIFE.

MAN FROM THE XXII MUKIMS WITH HIS WIFE.

armlets and anklets (gleuëng jaròë and gaki) made of suasa, which are forged on to their limbs; also chain bracelets of silver or suasa on their arms (talòë jaròë). On their necks they have metal collars, the separate portions of which closely resemble the almost circular bòh ru on the four corners of the betel-leaf kerchief, and necklaces hanging down over the breast (srapi) composed of small diamond-shaped gold plates. In their ears they wear large subangs (earrings) of gold or of buffalo-horn with a little piece of gold in the centre, by the weight of which the holes pierced in the ears are gradually widened to the greatest possible extent. Round the waist, either next the skin or over the ija pinggang they wear a chain formed of several layers (talòë kiʾiëng) fastened in front with a handsome clasp (peundéng)[51]; and on their fingers a number of rings (eunchiën or nchiën).

Food.In the remaining material necessaries of life also, the chief distinction between the Tunòng and the Barōh lies in the fact that the highlanders are more frugal and simple in their requirements. We need not here go into exact details. The staple form of food, eaten twice a day at 8–9 a.m. and at 5–6 p.m., is rice (bu) well cooked in water. With the rice is taken gulè (the sayur of the Malays), of which there are three kinds in common use; 1°. gulè masam keuʾeuëng (half-sour, half-pungent gulè) consisting of leaves or fruits[52] boiled in water mixed with onions, pepper, chilis (champli), salt, broken rice and as sour constituents bòh slimèng (blimbing) or sunti; 2°. gulè leumaʾ (rich gulè, from the cocoanut milk used in preparing it). With this is mixed a larger quantity of fragrant herbs, (such as halia or ginger and sreuë); its basis is either dried fish[53] (eungkōt thō) or karéng (small fish of the kinds biléh or awō, also dried), or the stockfish imported from the Maldives (keumamaïh) or sliced plantains or brinjals. The sour elements are the same as in 1°, above. Teumeuruy leaves are also frequently mixed with it, and cocoanut milk (santan) is an indispensable ingredient. 3°. Gulè pi u (gulè of decayed cocoanut). In this the sour elements and herbs are the same as in the other kinds, but an important additional ingredient is rotten cocoanut, from which the oil has been expressed; also some unripe nangka or jackfruit (bòh panaïh), unripe plantain, dry fish and karéng.

Besides rice and vegetables a principal article of food with the Achehnese is the stockfish (keumamaïh) imported in large quantities from the Maldives. This is prepared in two different ways; 1°. Keumamaïh cheunichah;[54] the keumamaïh is cut up into small pieces and with these are mixed ripe slimèng (blimbing)[55] pounded fine, chilis, onions and sreuë (sěrai)[56]; 2°. keumamaih reundang or tumèh, the ingredients of which differ little from those just described, but which is not eaten raw but fried in oil.

A fourth article of food, which is greatly relished by the Achehnese is boiled fresh fish from the sea or the rivers (eungkōt teunaguën). To this is added a considerable quantity of the juice of various sorts of limes (e. g. bòh munteuë, kruët, kuyuën, makén and sréng), with chilis and various savoury herbs. The whole is set on the fire in a pot with water, and not taken off until the water boils.

At kanduris (religious feasts) and suchlike occasions glutinous rice (bu kunyèt) coloured yellow with turmeric is a favourite dish. To this are always added either tumpòë (a sort of pancakes, six or seven of which are laid on top of the rice) and cheuneuruët, a gelatinous network formed of the same kind of rice, or else grated cocoanut mixed with red sugar (u mirah), or long strips of stockfish boiled in cocoanut milk, called keumamaih teunaguën.

At weddings, funeral feasts, receptions of distinguished guests and other ceremonious occasions, it is customary to serve up the rice and its accessories[57] in a definite traditional manner on dalōngs or trays. This manner of service is called meuʾidang, and we shall have occasion to notice it more fully later on. An adjunct of every idang, after the rice, fish and gulé, is the tray of sweetmeats, containing a dish of glutinous rice (bu leukat), this time without turmeric, and a dish of pisang peungat—ripe plantains sliced thin and boiled with cloves, cinnamon, sugar and some pandan-leaves. To these is often added sròykaya—eggs with cocoanut milk and herbs well cooked by steaming.

Fruits (bòh kayèë) are constantly eaten, but do not form the special accessories of any feast. After a funeral those who are present at the burial ground eat plantains and such other fruits as are for sale in the market.

Sweetmeats are called peunajōh (which properly means simply „victuals”), and are as in Java very various in form and name[58], though they differ but little in actual ingredients. The constituents of these are almost always grated cocoanut or cocoanut milk, glutinous rice or flour made therefrom, sugar and certain herbs, eggs and oil. They are eaten at odd times and are only set before guests when (as for example at recitations of the Qurān) they are assembled for hours together, so that a single great meal is insufficient to while away the time. On such occasions tea and coffee are also served, though the use of these beverages is generally restricted to invalids.

Small kanduris or religious feasts are of very common occurrence. At these yellow glutinous rice forms the pièce de resistance, though a goat is sometimes slaughtered for the guests. Otherwise buffaloes, oxen, goats and sheep are seldom killed except at the great annual festivals or in fulfilment of a vow.

Luxuries. The use of the betel-leaf (ranub) with its accessories (pineung, gapu, gambé[59], bakōng and sundry odoriferous herbs) is absolutely universal. Many both in the highland and lowland districts make an intemperate use of opium, but to nothing like the same extent as in the colonies of pepper-planters on the East and West Coasts, where all the vices of the Achehnese reach their culminating point. The prepared opium or chandu is smoked (piëb) from the ordinary opium-pipes (gò chandu) with the aid of little lamps called panyòt. In the days of Habib Abdurrahman and similar religious zealots, the smoking went on only indoors and by stealth. The opium-sheds (jambō chandu) which certain persons in the more distant plantations had built in order to enjoy this luxury in company, were burnt down by that sayyid.

On the West Coast especially, the practice of smoking opium in company still prevailed, and was marked by some characteristic customs. The votaries of the habit sit together in a prescribed position, and the pipe passes round. Each must in his turn take two pulls so strong as to extinguish the lamp; he then hands the pipe to his right-hand neighbour with a seumbah or respectful salute. The opium used in such assemblages is mixed with tobacco or other leaves and is called madat[60]. The Achehnese (of course wrongly) try to associate this word with adat, and assert that it means "the smoking of opium in conformity with certain adat or customs". In Great-Acheh, however, such public opium-smoking has always been exceptional. Every opium-smoker, be he small or great, is sure to be known as such, yet he prefers to perpetrate the actual deed in the solitude of his inner chamber.

Some Achehnese smoke opium in order, as they assert, to prolong the pleasure of coition.

The use of strong drink, which usually degenerates into excess, is especially to be met with among the lowlanders, but is restricted to the upper classes or those who come much into contact with Europeans. For the ordinary Achehnese water is almost his only drink; occasionally he takes some sugarcane juice, squeezed out of the cane by means of a very primitive press. Hence it comes that ngòn blòë ië teubèë "to buy sugarcane juice" is the ordinary name for a douceur.

It was an honoured tradition in Acheh that a member of the Sultan's family who had the reputation of being even a moderate opium-smoker should be excluded from the succession. Intoxicating liquors on the other hand were, as is well known, always to be found in the Dalam. I learned from a widow of Sultan Ibrahim Mansur Shah[61], (1858–70) that the latter had once murdered his own child in a fit of drunken frenzy[62].

The Achehnese colonists on the East and West Coasts who live there sometimes for years at a time in a society where there are no women, develop every vice of the nation to its highest pitch. The true highlanders are reputed not indeed more virtuous (for with them theft and robbery are the order of the day) but less weak and effeminate than the lowlanders. Among them opium, drink and unnatural crime exercise less influence than in the coast provinces. Unreasoning fanaticism, contempt for all strangers and self conceit are all more strongly marked in the upper country than in the lowland districts, which have grown somewhat "civilized" through contact with foreigners. The highlanders esteem themselves (and the lowlanders do not deny it)

GROUP OF MEN FROM THE XXII MUKIMS.
GROUP OF MEN FROM THE XXII MUKIMS.

GROUP OF MEN FROM THE XXII MUKIMS.

braver men than their brethren of the two remaining "angles" (sagòë) of the country. A hero is in common speech as well as in literature, often spoken of as aneuʾ tunòng kruëng= "a son of the upper reaches of the river."

The house and its equipment.In the arrangement of their dwellings there is but little difference between Tunòng and Barōh. The plate and explanation given at the end of this volume show clearly the principal features of the Achehnese dwelling-house[63]. It must be remembered that these houses are posed of either three or (as in the plate) five rueuëngs or divisions between the main rafters. In the first case the number of pillars supporting the main body of the house is 16, in the second 24. To form an idea of a house of three rueuëngs it is only necessary to cut off from that depicted in the plate all that lies to one side or the other of the central passage (rambat).

It has further to be noted that the back verandah (sramòë likōt) sometimes also serves as kitchen, and in that case the extension of the house for this purpose as shown in our plate is omitted. The gable-ends always face East and West, so that the main door and the steps leading up to it must have a northerly or southerly aspect.

Further additions are often made to the house on its East or West side, when the family is enlarged by the marriage of a daughter. These are as regards their floor-level (aleuë) tached on as annexes to the back verandah. Some new posts are set up along the side of the verandah to support an auxiliary roof, the inner edge of which projects from the edge of the main roof. Parents who are not wealthy enough to build for their daughters a separate house close by, retire, as far as their private life is concerned, into the temporary building we have just described (anjōng)[64] and leave the inside room (jurèë) to the young married couple.

We shall now make a survey of the Achehnese house and its belongings, not with the object of giving a full description of its subordinate parts (which may be found in the plate), or a complete inventory of all its equipment, but to show the part played by the various portions of the house in the lives of its inmates[65].

Round about each dwelling is a court-yard, generally supplied with the necessary fruit-trees etc. and sometimes cultivated so as to deserve the name of a garden (lampōïh). Regular gardens, in which are planted sugarcane, betelnuts, cocoanuts etc., are sometimes to be found in this enclosure, sometimes in other parts of the gampōng. The courtyard is surrounded by a strong fence (pageuë) through which a door leads out on to the narrow gampōng-path (jurōng); this in its turn leads through the gampōng to the main road[66] (rèt), which runs through rice-fields, gardens and uncultivated spaces, and unites one gampōng with another. The whole gampōng, like each courtyard, is surrounded with a fence.

A good fence is generally formed of two rows of glundōng or keudundōng trees or the like, set at a uniform distance apart, leaving a slight intervening space which is filled with triëng or thorny bamboo. The two rows are united firmly together by bamboos fastened horizontally from tree to tree as crosspieces. There are usually from three to five of these cross bamboos in the length of the fence.

Sometimes trees or bushes of other sorts which are themselves furnished with thorns, such as the daréh, are employed to fence in gardens, courtyards or gampōngs.

In many courtyards[67], as appears from what we have said above, more than a single dwelling house is to be found. As a rule each additional house is the habitation of one of the married daughters of the same family or in any case belongs to women descended from the same ancestress.

An indispensable item is the well (mòn), from which the women draw water for household use in buckets (tima) made of the spathe of the betel-palm (seutuë)ʾ, where they wash their clothes and utensils, bathe (so far as the uncleanly Achehnese deem it necessary to do so) and perform other needs. A gutter (salōran) carries off the water etc. to an earthenware conduit, which conducts both water and dung to a manure-heap (adén or jeuʾa) which is always very wet. Into this also falls by means of another gutter all the wet refuse that is thrown out from the back part of the house and kitchen. A screen (pupalang) shuts off those who are using the well from the gaze of the passers-by.

The space underneath the house (yub mòh or yub rumòh) serves as the receptacle of various articles. The jeungki or see-saw rice-pounder for husking rice; the keupōʾ[68], a space between four or six posts, separated off by a partition of plaited cocoanut leaves (bleuët) or similar material thrown round the posts, and in which the newly harvested rice is kept till threshed, and the threshing itself takes place; the krōngs, great tun-shaped barrels made of the bark of trees or plaited bamboo or rattan, wherein is kept the unhusked rice after threshing, which barrels are also sometimes placed in separate open buildings outside the house; the press (peuneurah) for extracting the oil[69] from decayed cocoanuts (piʾ u), and a bamboo or wooden rack (prataïh or panteuë) on which lies the firewood cleft by the women; these are the principal inanimate objects to be met with in the yub mòh.

Should the space beneath the house happen to be flooded in the rainy season, the store of rice is of course removed indoors.

Dogs, goats, sheep, ducks and fowls are also housed in the yub mòh. The brooding hens are kept under a cage-shaped seureukab[70], the others at night in a sriweuën or eumpung (fowl-run), while the fighting-cocks are in the daytime fastened up here by strings to the posts, though at night these favourite animals are brought into the front verandah[71].

Cows and buffaloes are housed in separate stalls or weuë, while ponies are tied up here and there to trees. The Achehnese however seldom possess the latter animals; those who have them use them but little and treat them with scant care[72].

All the small live stock huddled together in the yub mòh naturally render the place somewhat the reverse of wholesome. To this it must be added that much of the refuse from the house is simply thrown in there instead of being conveyed to the dung-heap by the gutter above referred to. Most contributions of this sort come through the guha[73], a hole pierced in the floor of the back verandah to receive odds and ends of refuse wet and dry, but which also serves as a latrine for children and invalids! Besides this, the floor of every inner room (jurèë) is furnished with a long open fissure over which the dead are laid to be washed, so as to let the water used in the ablution flow off easily.

Notwithstanding all this, the yub mòh is also used as a temporary resting-place for human beings. If there are children in the house, a large swinging cradle is hung here for their use. Here too the women set up their cloth on the loom and perform other household duties, for which purpose a certain portion is partitioned off by a screen (pupalang). At festivals some of the guests are entertained in the same place; and here it is customary to receive visits of condolence for a death. Some chiefs keep imprisoned in the yub mòh those who refuse to pay the fines imposed on them.

At the foot of the steps leading up to the house (gaki reunyeun) there always stands a great earthenware water-jar (guchi). Close to this is a hooked stick planted in the ground to hold a bucket (seuneulat tima) and a number of stones rather neatly arranged. Anyone who wishes to enter the house places his dusty or muddy feet on these stones and pours water over them from the bucket till they are clean.

Where there is a separate kitchen (rumòh dapu), a flight of steps leading down from this allows the inmates to quit the house from the back, but as a rule the steps in front are the only means of egress, so that the women must traverse the front verandah every time they go out of doors.

Some houses have a wooden platform surrounding the foot of the steps and protected by the penthouse roof which covers the latter. It is set against the side of the house and stands a little lower than the floor of the front verandah. This serves the inmates as an occasional place to sit and laze in and also for the pursuit of parasites in one another's hair, a practice as necessary and popular among the Achehnese as among the Javanese[74]. Here too the little children play.

By the house door access is gained to the front verandah or as the Achehnese call it, the stair verandah (sramòë reunyeun), which is separated from the rest of the house by a partition in which are the doors of the inner chambers (jurèë) and the aperture leading into the central passage, filled generally either by a curtain or a door.

This is the portion of the Achehnese dwelling to which the uninitiated are admitted. Here guests are received, kanduris or religious feasts are given and business discussed. Part of the floor (aleuë) is covered with matting; on ceremonial occasions carpets (plumadani or peureumadani) are spread over this, and on top of these again each guest finds an ornamentally worked square sitting-mat (tika duëʾ) placed ready for him. A sort of bench made of wood or bamboo called prataïh sometimes serves the master of the house as a bedstead during part of the night, when he finds the heat excessive within. Here too are to be found a number of objects which betray the calling or favourite sport of their owner, some on shelves or bamboo racks (sandéng) against the wall, some stuck in the crevices of the wall itself. There the fisherman hangs his nets (jeuë or nyaréng), the huntsman his snares (taròn), all alike their weapons; there too are kept certain kinds of birds such as the leuëʾ (Mal. těkukur, a kind of small dove), which are much used for fighting-matches.

The passage (rambat) is at one side in a house of three sections, but in one of five it is right in the middle between the two bedrooms. It is entered by none but women, members of the household or the family, or men on very intimate terms of acquaintanceship, as it only gives access to the back verandah, the usual abode of the women, who there perform their daily household tasks.

Some provisions are stored in the rambat, as for instance a guchi or earthenware jar of decayed cocoanut (pi u) for making oil, and a jar of vinegar made from the juice of the arèn (ië jōʾ) or the nipah. Here too stands the tayeuën, a smaller portable earthenware jar in which the mistress of the house or her maidservant fetches water from the well to fill the guchi which stands in the back verandah and contains the supply of water for household use.

Some short posts (rang) extending only from the roof to the floor are furnished with small pieces of plank on which are hung the brass plates with stands of the same metal on which food is served to guests, the trays (dalōng) big enough to hold an idang for four or five persons and the smaller ones (krikay) on which are dished the special viands for the most distinguished visitors. Either in the rambat or the sramòë likōt stands a chest (peutòë) containing the requisite china and earthenware.

Porcelain dishes (pingan) and plates or small dishes (chipé) are to be found in these chests almost everywhere in the lowland districts, but when there are no guests the simpler ware common in the Tunòng is here also used, viz. large earthenware or wooden plates called chapah and smaller ones known as chuèʾ.

The back verandah serves as it were as a sitting-room and as we have seen often answers the purpose of a kitchen as well. It contains a sitting mattress (tilam duëʾ) with a mat on it especially intended for the use of the master, when he comes here to eat his meals or to repose; while a low bench (prataïh) similarly covered with a mat serves as a resting-place for small children. Here are to be found, on shelves or racks fixed against the wall, plates, earthen cooking-pots (blangòng), circular earthen or brass saucepans (kanèt)[75] in which rice is boiled[76], earthen frying-pans with handles (sudu) for frying fish ete., the curry-stone (batèë neupéh) for grinding spices etc., with the grater (aneuʾ) that appertains to it, and earthenware or brass lamps (panyòt) in the form of round dishes with four or seven mouths (mata) in each of which a wick is placed. Some of these lamps are suspended by cords from above (panyòt gantung), others rest on a stand (panyòt dòng). From the rafters and beams hang at intervals little nets called salang, neatly plaited of rattan, for holding dishes which contain food, so as to protect their contents to some extent from the attacks of various domestic animals.

Drinking vessels of brass (mundam) or earthenware (peunuman) are to be found in all the different apartments. They have as covers brass drinking-cups which are inverted and replaced after use.

Cooking is performed in a very simple manner. Five stones arranged almost exactly in this form constitute two teunungèës[77] or primitive chafing-dishes in which wood fires are lit, one for the rice and the other for the vegetables (gulè). The use of iron chafing-dishes (kran) on three legs is a mark of a certain degree of luxury.

The holy of holies in the house is the one part of it that may be really called a room, the jurèë, to which access is had by a door leading out on to the back verandah. Here the married couple sleep, here takes place the first meeting of bride and bridegroom at the mampleuë (inf. chapter III, § 1) and here the dead are washed. These rooms are seldom entered by any save the parents, children and servants.

The floor is as a rule entirely covered with matting. The roofing is hidden by a white cloth (tirè dilangèt) and the walls are in like manner covered with tirè or hangings. Round the topmost edge of the tirè runs a border formed of diamond-shaped pieces of cloth of various colours; these when stitched together form the pattern called in Acheh chradi or mirahpati. Such disguising of roof and walls is resorted to in the other parts of the house only on festive occasions. On a low bench or platform (prataïh) is placed a mattress (tilam éh) with a mat over it, and this couch is usually surrounded with a mosquitonet (kleumbu).

Besides this there is spread on the floor a sitting-mattress (tilam duèʾ) of considerable size, but intended only for the man's use, and thus provided with a sitting mat. On both mattresses are piles of cushions (bantay susōn) shaped like bolsters and adorned at either end with pretty and often costly trimming. A sitting mattress has about four, a sleeping mattress as many as fifteen cushions of this description.

The clothing and personal ornaments are kept in a chest which stands in the jurèë. Well-to-do people generally have for this purpose chests the front of which is formed of two little doors opening outwards. These are called peutòë dòng or standing chests to distinguish them from the chests with covers. When the Achehnese learned to use European cupboards, they gave them the same name.

Along the small posts (rang) inside the house there is usually fastened a plank set on edge on the floor. This serves as a specious screen for all manner of untidiness, concealing all such rubbish as the inmates may choose to throw between it and the wall.

The women as well as the men are dirty and slovenly, and but few of the objects forming the household equipment have a settled place. All manner of things are piled on the upper beams or on the small platforms (para) which rest thereon, access to which is gained by climbing up steps made of pieces of plank fastened to the walls or posts. Various objects are to be seen hanging against the wall, or when its structure admits, stuck into its crevices (lhat).

Lamps and drinking-cups are of course not lacking in the jurèë, still less the requisites for chewing betel. The betel-leaves in neat little piles with pieces of betelnut on the top are contained in a little brass cup of almost the same form as the drinking-cups and like them called baté with the word ranub added to show their purpose. The cup is covered inside with a cloth lining, which, like the tirè-borders, exhibits the variegated pattern known as mirahpati or chradi. On top of the betel are placed two small boxes, the krandam and cheuleupa containing respectively lime and tobacco mixed with spices. The outfit is in fact the same as the pedestrian carries with him in his bungkōih, or if he be a person of distinction, has carried for him by his attendants.

The whole house belongs in Acheh to the category of movable property. Every peg is made much too small for its hole and is kept in its place by means of large wedges. For anyone who understands the uniform structure of the Achehnese house—and every native of the country is an adept in this—the task of taking a house to pieces and setting it up again elsewhere is but the work of a moment.

So when an Achehnese sells his house, this means that the purchaser removes it to his own place of abode; a change of residence by the proprietor or rather the proprietress to another gampōng is quite a rare occurrence among the Achehnese.

Houses are transported in large numbers from the highlands to the lowlands, but seldom vice versâ, since the Tunòng possesses a greater abundance of building materials.

It is to be understood that even the most solidly built Achehnese house shakes if anyone pulls at the posts. Thieves and burglars begin by shaking the house to discover whether the inmates are sound enough asleep to admit of their carrying out their nefarious purposes. If they hear from the jurèë or the front verandah the cry "who is that shaking the house?" they know that the time is unfavourable for their task.

Men who have forbidden intrigues with the wife or daughter of the house make known their presence in the same way, so that the object of their affections may come out to them if opportunity occurs.

The same course is adopted by the revengeful, who seek treacherously to slay the master of the house. Having ascertained that the latter is sound asleep in the jurèë they can generally ascertain, as they stand underneath the house, on what part of the floor he is lying. Then follow one or two rapid spear-thrusts through the thin planks, and all is over.

To force one's way into the house at night is difficult, as the doors are fastened with wooden bolts (ganchéng, aneuʾ ganchéng) and besides every movement inside the house would be likely owing to the instability of the floor, to wake the inmates up.

Many houses are regarded as possessed, because their inmates are continually falling sick. To protect a house from such malign influences various expedients are adopted.

A favourable time for commencing to build is carefully chosen. The work always begins with the setting up of the two principal posts with the cross-beams that unite them; while this is in progress, sundry prayers and formulas are repeated. These two posts which when the house is completed stand in the jurèë, are called the raja and the putròë (prince and princess). For them the soundest and best wood is selected; the raja is first set up and then the putròë. At a wedding the bridegroom takes his place next the "prince" post, while the bride occupies a seat under the "princess".

Should the ceremonies at the setting up of the principal pillars prove propitious for continuing to build, then as soon as the house is finished a lucky day is again chosen for moving into it.

On this occasion a kanduri or religious feast is given, to which the teungku of the meunasah (vide inf. § 5) and some leubòs are invited. After this gathering there commences the customary "cooling"[78] ( (sijuëʾ), which consists in sprinkling all the posts with flour and water (teupōng taweuë) by means of a broom formed of plants and twigs having a "cooling", that is an evil-dispelling influence. The same process is resorted to whenever there has been any unusual feast or ceremony in the house, since such occurrences are supposed to set the heat, that is the powers of evil, in motion. Of all the pillars the raja and the putròë receive most attention on such occasions.

The two "royal" pillars and sometimes others as well are at the time of building covered at the top with a piece of white cloth, over which again is placed a piece of red, so that they look as though they had turbans on their heads. This is also supposed to contribute to the protection of the inmates from evil influences.


§ 4. Distribution of the people; clans and tribes.

The family and the tribes (kawōm sukèë). The family, whose dwelling-place is the Achehnese house just described, its origin and the customs and laws that control its daily life are all dealt with in a later chapter. There we shall see how among many genuine patriarchal institutions, survivals are not wanting of the former prevalence of what the Germans call "Mutterrecht", or to which they apply the curious hybrid name "Matriarchat."

The child never ceases to regard the house and gampōng of his mother as his own. The daughters continue after marriage to reside in their mother's house (in which case a jurèë is vacated in their favour) or obtain another house in its immediate neighbourhood. The sons when married are said to "go home"" (wòë) to their wives, yet they remain, except when visiting their wives, citizens of their mother's gampong, where in common with all whose wives do not reside in that gampōng or who are still unmarried, they pass their nights in the meunasah.

Thus descendants of a common ancestress through the female line are usually to be found living as relatives in the same neighbourhood, while those derived from a common ancestor are scattered about in different villages.

These and similar facts, however, interesting though they may be, have at the present time only a rudimentary signification for the Achehnese community. When mention is made of a family in the more extended sense of a tribe (kawōm), this is taken to include all the descendants of a common ancestor in the male line, however far apart from one another they may happen to reside. And this is no new conception, nor should it in all probability be ascribed to the influence of Mohammedanism alone, though no doubt greatly strengthened thereby; most of the old Achehnese adats and institutions bear witness to and confirm this patriarchal origin.

Thus a kawōm[79] includes all whose pedigrees followed up in the male line coincide in a single ancestor. Even where the line cannot be clearly traced (and few Achehnese know their descent for more than three generations) they still hail one another as fellow-tribesmen as long as the feeling survives that they are connected in the manner indicated with a common ancestor.

Van Langen[80] has very properly represented the division of the Achehnese people into kawōms as the ancient and patriarchal, as opposed to the territorial distribution, the latter being a more recent and higher phase of the political development of Acheh. Even now, after government and judicial administration have been for centuries based on the territorial distribution, the kawōms, those genealogical units which flourished at a period when might was superior to right and when there was no central authority controlling parties, have by no means lost all significance.

In connection with this fact it follows naturally that the kawōms have maintained most force in those parts of the country where the political development is most backward, as in the Tunòng (the XXII Mukims), in Pidië (Pedir) and in the VII Mukims Buëng (the part of the XXVI Mukims that has most in common with the highlands in language and manners). In the lowlands on the other hand, and especially in the neighbourhood of the Dalam, where blood-feuds (bila) are not so much the order of the day, and where the upholders of territorial authority depend less on their kawōm than on their own energy and other personal characteristics, the distribution into kawōms is of continually diminishing import. Everything tends to show that even if the country were left entirely to itself, the development of Acheh would gradually result in the entire dissolution of the influence of the kawōm.

None the less it has occasionally come to pass in more recent times that a lowland tribe which has greatly increased in numbers, has cherished the desire of seeing a panglima kawōm[81] established more majorum at its head.

The fulfilment of such a wish has however for a long time past depended on the concurrence of the territorial chief, the ulèëbalang. The latter first considers whether it is desirable to acquiesce in the request of the "family" whose proportions have so much increased, and further whether the proposed candidate is to be depended on to uphold the interests of his kawōm, and especially those which relate to blood feuds or bila. A territorial functionary is never selected as panglima kawōm, since the two-fold office would bring him at times into conflict with himself. If the ulèëbalang concurs in the request, the appointment is made in the presence of a solemn assembly of certain office-bearers and a number of members of the kawōm or tribe. The new leader of the tribe receives from the ulèëbalang a seunalén, that is an outfit of clothing and another of weapons, and this present binds him as it were expressly to fealty to the ruler of the country. The ulèëbalang or an experienced speaker on his behalf announces the appointment of the panglima kawōm to the assembled crowd, and finally the newly-appointed chief is smeared behind the ears (sunténg) with yellow glutinous rice, a ceremony resorted to on all sorts af solemn occasions to ward off evil influences.

The appointment of a panglima kawōm takes place in the lowland districts whenever there are satisfactory reasons for it, even though the tribe has no traditional appellation and though its connection with one of the four great tribes (kawōm or sukèë) presently to be noticed is entirely unverified. But as already observed, such appointments are of uncommon occurrence, and the fact that they belong to one of the four great kawōms is as a rule only brought home to the lowlanders by occasional troublesome demands for help and support from their unknown brethren of the highlands.

The demand for blood-vengeance (bila) or a blood-price (diët) by the next of kin of a slain man, which is very common in the lowlands, need not be gone into here in our description of institutions strictly Achehnese, as it is universal in all Mohammedan communities.

The Tunòng or highlands of Great-Acheh are, comparatively speaking, up to the present time the true sphere of the kawōm. Here we find the four great tribes (kawōm or sukèë) to one or other of which every true highlander regards himself as belonging, and from which it is generally asserted that every Achehnese must be descended[82]. Here a strained relation between two tribes may result in a hostile attitude, be it only such as that of the Bedouins, a war without battles, but marked by many thievish raids and treacherous attacks, and sometimes actual homicide.

To learn for himself all that there is still to find out about these kawōms the enquirer should devote a considerable time to personal investigation in the Tunòng. From the actual popular traditions of the place he would be able to deduce—not how the four tribes originated, for that is known to none, and still less the course of their history even in modern times—but what the mutual relations are which subsist between the tribes themselves. By examining actually existing disputes and the manner of their settlement, he would come to know what the adats are which really control the tribal life—which never can be learnt from the answers of the highlanders to the questions put to them, since each one is apt to try and show off by his answers his own wisdom and the greatness of his own kawōm or sukèë.

There are many arguments against the theory of the descent of all Achehnese from the four sukèës, leaving aside the question as to how these latter originated. For instance we find that many of the lowlanders are absolutely ignorant as to which of the sukèës they can claim to belong to; then again we know that there has been from early times a considerable intermixture with foreign elements in spite of all racial pride. The Sultans of Acheh were in part Malayan, in part Arab, and in part—as with the line of princes who have now occupied the throne for more than a century and a half—of Bugis origin. The great literati or holy men were almost without exception foreigners, and the same is true of many of the rich traders and high officials. The Klings and Arabs settled in Acheh, nay even some of the slaves have after several generations become an integral part of the Achehnese people. From this it may be readily concluded that the four great tribes, while comprehending the whole of the Tunòng people, who owing to the nature of their environment were least of all exposed to foreign influence or admixture, never included all the Achehnese. This remains probable even in view of the indubitable fact that the tribal relations which did actually prevail, are in the lowlands fading away and gradually disappearing under the pressure of the superior power of the chiefs.

The slight information which we here furnish as to the four kawōms, their tradition and adat is from the nature of the subject merely preliminary, and will we hope be improved or better still completed by others.

All that can be gathered of the origin of the four kawōms or sukèës, even with respect to their names is thus to a hazardous degree mixed up with modern Achehnese philosophy and conjecture. These materials though they wear the outward appearance of having been handed down from distant ages, exhibit manifest traces of having been thought out in a period much too remote for accuracy from the origin of the tribes, or concocted to suit the real or supposed meanings of the names[83]. The very circumstance that these kawōm-legends diverge as widely as the poles should cause us to abandon as hopeless the search among them for "germs of history."

Thus much is, however, certain, that from the earliest time three of the four kawōms were even when taken together inferior in numbers and strengh to the fourth, and therefore combined in opposition to the latter. Through this conjunction and also perhaps through attendant political circumstances the nature of which we can now hardly conjecture, this trio of tribes succeeded, at the time when the Achehnese passed from what we have termed the genealogical or patriarchal to the territorial distribution, in retaining for themselves the highest positions and excluding their common rival therefrom. Thus the united three restored the balance of power and even made it turn in their favour, but not before they had transferred the conflict to another sphere than that of the kawōms.

The three kawōms and the Imeum Peuët.While the tribes Lhèë reutoïh, Chut (also known as Ja or Tōʾ) Sandang and Tōʾ or Ja Batèë all contributed members to the families of the the territorial chiefs or high officials to the chief town of the kingdom, no single member of the fourth tribe, the Imeum Peuët has attained to more than the modest rank of chief of a mukim.

The names of the kawōms teach us little; let us however recapitulate them.

1°. Lhèë reutoth, i. e. the Three Hundred, without doubt a peculiar title for a genealogical unit. If it may be assumed that three hundred families or three hundred fighting men were originally intended by the name, it is probable that we have to do with an ancient federation called into existence at some crisis of public necessity or conflict and afterwards remaining united and increasing in numbers chiefly if not altogether by propagation. But who can vouch for the correctness of this supposition?

2°. Chut, Ja or Tōʾ Sandang. Ja or Tōʾ as we have seen, means forefather. Both names, like eumpèë (Mal. ěmpu) are also applied to revered and personified objects, such as sacred trees, wells, rocks and cliffs, the worship of which clearly dates from heathenish times, but has here survived in spite of Islam.

Chut properly means "little". It is used as a prefix to the names of children and (at least in more recent times) of men and women of position. Sandang, which properly means "to carry something under the arm suspended to a rope or strap passing over the shoulder", is also sometimes used as a male proper name[84].

Van Langen notices a tradition according to which the name of this tribe was originally that of an individual from Lampanaïh in the XXII Mukims, who used to bring every year to the Sultans of Acheh in token of fealty a bamboo filled with palm-wine fastened to a cord passing over his shoulder[85].

Another legend which I have heard, while equally unreliable from a historical point of view, is much more generally current among the Achehnese, and serves to illustrate an adat which prevailed up to the latest times at the installation of a new Sultan.

According to this story, one of the Sultans of Acheh once found himself constrained to go and enforce in person his authority over the district of Pidié. His route thither lay through Lam Panaïh in the XXII Mukims. Here he suffered from thirst, but none was found to bring him anything to drink, till at last a man of humble rank brought him milk in a bamboo vessel (pachōʾ), which he carried in the way expressed by the word sandang.

The Sultan was extremely grateful and invited him to come to him when the war was over and His Majesty had returned to the Dalam, as he wished to give him an earnest of the honour and favour in which he held him. "But how", objected the old man, "shall an insignificant person like myself be recognized as he who helped to assuage your thirst, and admission to the Dalam be accorded me"? "You must", replied the Sultan, "twist a white cocoanut spathe round your head by way of sign, and hang your bamboo vessel over your shoulder as it now is". Ja Sandang did so, and both he and his descendants enjoyed the utmost consideration at the Court.

Teuku Kali.Later on the ruler of Acheh who reformed or endeavoured to reform the administration of justice, chose his court judge from the tribe of Ja Sandang, which had meantime greatly increased in dignity. This official received the title of Kali Malikul-adil (Malikōn Adé) and the judicial office or at least the title appertaining to it remained hereditary in his family.

The later bearers of this title gradually acquired the positions of masters of ceremonies at the Court. Those who have seen them in the exercise of their functions at the installation of a new Sultan, can testify that on such occasions the Teuku Kali wore a white cocoanut spathe under his head-cloth, and a blunderbuss attached to a leathern belt passing over his shoulder. The reason given for adhering to this adat is that the titular "judge" appeared also in the character of the representative of his tribe the Ja Sandang. As, however, customs change with lapse of time, the later Sultans had permitted the holders of this office to exchange the bamboo vessel for a blunderbuss and to hide the cocoanut spathe to some extent beneath their head-cloth.

We let this legend pass for what it is worth, merely adding that the members of this tribe are not allowed to eat the flesh of white buffaloes or the salt water fish alu-alu, both of which are tabooed (pantang) for them. There is of course no lack of stories to account for this prohibition. Similar rules affecting particular families or tribes are very common in Java; among the Sundanese they are known as buyut or in some cases chadu.

Such pantang-rules, even though strictly observed by Mohammedans, date of course from pre-Mohammedan times, and in so far they perhaps argue a much greater antiquity for the sukèë of Ja Sandang than the Achehnese themselves are aware of.

3°. Ja or Tōʾ Batèë = Forefather or Grandfather Stone. It may be conjectured that the tribe so named regarded its individuality as embodied in the common worship of a sacred stone[86].

4°. Imeum peuët or the four imāms, evidently a very modern appellation as compared with 2° and 3° above. It seems to indicate that this tribe or confederacy existed or was formed under the leadership of four chiefs called imāms. As we know, the office of imām (Ach. imeum) stands entirely apart from the organization of the kawōms. We have in Acheh imeums who take the lead in devotional exercises without deriving from this function any particular rank in the community. Again we find imeums in the position of headmen of districts (mukims), whose office was according to the intent of its founder without doubt closely connected with religion, but has degenerated into one of purely worldly authority. Neither of the two seems to suggest the constitution or appellation of a sukèë.

It appears to me not improbable that a number of smaller kawōms each with a name of its own but without any collective appellation used to band themselves together in time of danger; and that at the time when the greatest efforts towards centralization of control were being made in Acheh, this confederacy obtained four imeums to look after their mosques and maintain their connection with the territorial rulers. Later on then, when this tribe had greatly increased in numbers and spread itself throughout every district, the name survived.

Many however take the view that the name points to an original quartet of tribes, united to one another in the same way and for the same reasons as the three sukèës first mentioned (Lhèë reutoïh, Ja Sandang and Ja Batèë). Such a supposition finds some support in the description of the Achehnese people as the seven kawōms or bangsas, which is to be met with occasionally in their literature. This expression however, the meaning of which even the most intelligent Achehnese declare themselves unable to understand, is just as likely to have originated in a totally different manner, nor have I met with any popular tradition according to which these "seven tribes" might be taken to be composed of four clans of the Imeum peuët and the other three tribes. Be this as it may, human memory discloses nothing with respect to this fourfold division, and if it ever did exist, the fusion is now quite complete.

Original territorial significance of the distribution into kawōms The distribution into kawōms, even though not originally resting on a purely genealogical basis, afterwards obtained a genealogical significance, since the increase of each kawōm was due in the first place to natural propagation, and that too exclusively in the male line. Beyond all doubt there was nothing territorial in this distribution; for no matter where a man may choose to take up his abode, the bond which attaches him to his kawōm remains unsevered.

Still we may readily suppose that the kawōms were more or less territorially distinguished from one another by position, like the tribes of Israel or the Bedouins of Arabia both past and present. Indeed the instinct of mutual self-support that was unquestionably the weightiest factor in the formation of the kawōms, was most intimately connected with community of the place of abode.

Concentration was especially resorted to against threatened danger from the other clans; and it follows as a matter of course that there could be no community of residence with an enemy. A manifest survival of this separation of clans, which was undoubtedly much more marked in ancient times, is to be found in the adat-rule, often transgressed yet always recognized in theory, that marriage while permitted between members of the first three confederated tribes is forbidden between these and the Imeum Peuët.

Had the territorial chiefs succeeded fully in carrying out their purpose, such a prohibition would of course have lost all its force. Indeed, where the kawōms have been constrained to live at peace with one another and to submit their disputes to the arbitration of third parties, there has been an end of all impulse to such a social separation, which is besides opposed to the teaching of Islam. It is, however, equally certain that such severance and isolation were very much more prevalent prior to the time when the ulèëbalangs and other chiefs began to exert control over all alike without distinction of kawōm.

Free intermarriage between the three allied kawōms dates of course from their federation.

It does not require a great stretch of the imagination to realize the peculiar consequences of free intermixture of the kawōms, where the tribal distribution still retains its true significance.

We have already seen that the adat-prohibition just noticed is very frequently transgressed. When once the wall of separation between two families is thrown down, a feeling of kinship arises between them and they no longer trouble themselves over the circumstance that the one belongs to the Imeum Peuët, and the other to one of the three allied tribes. Now all goes well as long as nothing occurs to disturb the peace between the kawōms. Suppose however that a blood-feud springs up between the two and is not at once amicably settled; suppose, as often happens, that such a bila-dispute gradually assumes greater proportions and that the two parties constantly widen the breach between them by robbery and murder? Then we shall find the son fighting against the kawōm of his mother, against his own uncles and cousins, where he belongs say to the Tōʾ Batèë and they to the Imeum Peuët. Or let us take the case of two sisters whose family belongs to the Tōʾ Batèë, and suppose that one marries a member of the Imeum Peuët (thus transgressing the theoretical rule), and the other a member of the Lhèë Reutoïh. The usual place of residence of the two husbands, if they do not neglect their wives, will, in accordance with the Achehnese adat, be in the same house or at least in the same courtyard. Should a conflict such as we have just supposed arise, the brothers-in-law would have to avoid each other as enemies until peace was concluded.

Such a state of things is not merely hypothetical, but often actually arises. It is true, most civil conflicts among the Achehnese express themselves rather in high words, empty burning of powder and unexecuted plans than in sanguinary battles. Yet blood-feuds are distinguished by a certain degree of violence, and it is these in particular which give rise to tribal dissensions.

We can thus understand the rationale of this adat-rule, and perceive that it must in earlier times have had a wider influence and been more strongly enforced than at present.

If the social separation of the kawōms is gradually ceasing to exist, their territorial severance has long been a thing of the past. Even in the highlands the three allied kawōms do not live apart from one another, but reside peacefully side by side in the same districts or gampōngs. Natural as it now appears, this gathering together within the same village enclosure and under the same territorial chiefs must at one time have been a gigantic stride along the road of political development. This reform cannot be ascribed to the influence of the sultans, since everything points to the fact that the ulèëbalangs had made good their territorial power long before they were compelled to recognize the supremacy of the port-king. We may assume that the efforts of certain energetic individuals towards the establishment of territorial authority were crowned with success because the time was ripe for political reform, and because all men, however disinclined they might be to leave the decisions of their bloodfeuds to others, saw that it was for their interest to adopt a regulated social system in which the kawōm played but a secondary part.

This reformation has virtually abolished the clan system. In the lowlands as time goes on it is becoming entirely forgotten. In the highlands it still possesses considerable significance; but this must gradually decrease unless unforeseen events arise to annihilate the comparative order that now prevails there.

The most important panglimas of the Imeum Peuët are those in the VII Mukims Baʾét, and outside these at Lam Leuʾòt. There are however chiefs of this most numerous clan to be found in other places as well, and in like manner the other three kawōms have their panglima in every place where they are at all well represented as regards numbers. The post of panglima kawōm, like all Achehnese offices, devolves by inheritance, but as we have seen above, the holder of this office

TEUKU CHUT EUMPÈÉ ARA (XXII MUKIMS).
TEUKU CHUT EUMPÈÉ ARA (XXII MUKIMS).

TEUKU CHUT EUMPÈÉ ARA (XXII MUKIMS).

may take no share in the territorial government. As regards the panglimaship, the three allied tribes count as one; where there exists a panglima of any one of them, he has no colleagues from the other two and attends to the interests of all alike. A blood-debt of any one of these kawōms is also regarded as resting on all three.

Vengeance for blood and blood-money.Settlement of blood-feuds seems in ancient times to have been made almost exclusively by the exacting of vengeance. While the latter is expressed by a word of Indian origin (bila) the milder custom of blood-money is only denoted by the Arabic appellation diët. Although the idea of a blood-price is not foreign to native customary law in other parts of the Eastern Archipelago, this method of settlement seems to have been introduced into Acheh through the medium of Islam,—though not without modifications.

It is not necessary here to go into the rules of Mohammedan law in respect of the jus talionis and blood-money. It need only be borne in mind that in case of wilful murder or hurt, the Moslim law gives the right of retributive vengeance to none but the heir of the victim or (in case of hurt) to the wounded man himself. The execution of this vengeance is made subject to the supervision of the public authorities. At the same time the injured party is left free, nay in many cases advised to content himself with the blood-price fixed by law instead of exacting a personal vengeance.

In Acheh however it has remained an etablished rule that blood-feuds are decided without any interference on the part of the territorial authorities, simply under the direction of the panglimas of the kawōm, who are tribal and not territorial chiefs. Exceptions occur now and then through the authority of some unusually energetic ulèëbalang or unusually influential ulama. Here again we find all the members of a kawōm jointly and severally liable as concerns bila, so that a blood-feud may keep two clans for years in a state of mutual hostility[87]. Should, however, the influence of the panglima kawōm or the pressure of the higher powers be able to prevent the feud and induce the injured party to accept blood-money, then the guilty party, who is in most cases unable to make up the required sum[88], considers himself more or less entitled to demand contributions from all his well-to-do fellow-tribesmen, or if he belongs to one of the three allied kawōms, from all the members of these three tribes. Thus the highland blood-debtor, to whom a period of one or two years is granted for paying off the diët, goes on a journey "to collect subscriptions" (chò ripè). Such debtors often come down into the lowlands and apply for contributions to those of whose connection with their tribe the recollection still survives. The lowlanders even say that their highland brethren are in the habit of making a profit from their murders by collecting several times the amount due from the fellowtribesmen whose existence they only remember on such occasions.

Rhymes on the mutual relations of the tribes.The relation of the Imeum Peuët to the three united kawōms has found expression in a popular doggerel of a somewhat partial description. As appears from the conclusion, which is the same in every version, the verses may be considered to have originated with the Imeum Peuët, as this clan is therein celebrated as the most powerful of all. But the other sukèës have, partly by giving a special explanation of what is said of them in this popular ditty and partly by giving a different version, extracted the sting so that they are able to quote it in honour of themselves[89].

Sukèë Lhèë Reutoih
ban aneuʾ drang
Sukèë Ja Sandang
jra haleuba.
Sukèë Ja Batèë
na bachut-bachut;
Sukèë Imeum Peuët
nyang gōʾ-gōʾ dōnya.

If we translate the verses in the sense originally given them by the Imeum Peuët, the meaning is: "The tribe of the Three Hundred is (insignificant) as the seeds of the drang (a bush which grows like a weed along fences); the people of the clan Ja Sandang are even as anise and cummin (thus a little more valuable); those of the Ja Batèë (count) for something; the Imeum Peuët it is which makes the world to tremble."

When a member of any of the three united tribes explains these verses, he prefers to ascribe the comparison of the Lhèë Reutoïh with drang-seeds to their numbers and the cummin and anise to the choice flavour of the Ja Sandang, who though not great in point of numbers yet as holders of important offices impregnate all Acheh with their savour. Still more does he prefer to offer you another edition which clearly shows how the Imeum Peuët has through the united power of the other three clans been excluded from all high offices and has thus become subject to the latter so far as territorial supremacy is concerned. In this version the first verse runs as follows:

Sukèë Lhèë Reutoïh
ulèëbalang.
Sukèë Ja Sandang
jeuët keuraja.

"The clan of the Three Hundred are ulèëbalangs, that of Ja Sandang may become rajas"[90].

Before taking leave of the kawōms, the survivals of the Bedouin-period of the Achehnese people, we must notice one other important alteration introduced in their mutual relations by the territorial subdivision of Acheh which has gradually come into being. Although the members of a kawōm are and remain united for the purposes of exacting vengeance for blood, of protection against others who demand such vengeance or for the collection of the blood-money—in territorial or political contests the importance of the kawōms is entirely driven out of the field. We now find members of the Imeum Peuët fighting side by side like brothers with those of the other clans, and vice versa, in two forces hostile to one another men can be found who belong to one and the same kawōm[91].


§ 5. The Gampōng, its Government and Adats.

The Gampōng.Next to the house and its enclosure, the smallest territorial unit is the Gampōng (Malay kampung) or village, the external appearance of which we have to some extent described above. There are the courtyards, part of which are utilized as gardens, containing one or more houses separated from one another and from the gampōng-paths (jurōng) by fences; then the whole gampōng surrounded by a fence of its own, and connected by a gate with the main road (rèt or ròt) which leads through fields and gardens (blang and lampōïh) and tertiary jungle (tamah) to other similar gampōngs.

Real forest (uteuën) is less often to be found in the neighbourhood of gampōngs in the lowlands than in the Tunòng, and virgin jungle (rimba) in the Tunòng only.

Accepting as accurate our hypothesis with regard to the kawōms, namely that they were originally separate in a territorial as well as a tribal sense, we may then assume that in former times each gampōng comprised a kawōm or a subdivision of one, which added to its numbers only by marriages within its own enclosure, or at most with the women of neighbouring fellow-tribesmen. The former headmen of the gampōngs would in this case have been the panglimas of the kawōms. Later on, however, came the great step in the advance of political development, by which chiefs or princes (ulèëbalangs) were made rulers over the inhabihants of a certain district, without distinction of kawōm or sukèë. To this was added the residence together in one and the same village of people of different kawōms, their intermixture by marriage etc. So soon as this had come to pass, the head of the tribe had to give place to the head of the village, and depended for his authority as much on the will of the lord of the province as on the recognition of his fellow-villagers.

Many usages and customary laws may have succeeded in surviving this reform, and that such was the case appears probable from the primitive nature of adats which are still observed. In one respect, however, a change must gradually have crept in; the chief of the village naturally found duty coincide with inclination in wresting for himself as much as possible of the authority of the panglima kawōm, and the ulèëbalang whose deputy he was, was certain to lend him his full support in this.

Much, in fact most of the old adat kawōm was thus transformed to adat gampōng, and the enforcement of this adat became the task of the headman of the gampōng. Only the blood-feuds, which according to Achehnese ideas are matters of a most private nature, yet cannot be confined to the circle of a single family, remained in the hands of the chiefs of the kawōms.

Such is, briefly stated, the most probable history of the formation
GAMPŌNG-FOLK IN THE MARKET OF KUTARADJA.
GAMPŌNG-FOLK IN THE MARKET OF KUTARADJA.

GAMPŌNG-FOLK IN THE MARKET OF KUTARADJA.

of the present Achehnese gampōng; though all that we can know with entire certainty is the final result, which we must now proceed to describe. Before approaching the method of administration we must add to our sketch of the village itself a word respecting the meunasah[92].

The meunasah.In the gampōng or in its immediate neighbourhood there is always to be found a building constructed in the same way as an ordinary dwelling-house, but without windows, passage or any kind of division. Close to the steps leading to this building is a water-tank either simply dug in the ground or built of masonry. A pipe or gutter of bamboo sloping downwards from the mouth of the nearest well opens into the tank, so as to make it easy to draw the water daily from the former.

These meunasahs serve as the nightly resting-place of all the full-grown youths of the gampōng, and of all men who are temporarily residing there and have no wife in the gampōng. This category includes both strangers and those whose mother for example lives in the gampōng, and who are not for the moment desirous of visiting their wives who reside elsewhere. For all such it would be regarded as improper except in case of illness to lodge in a house. Scapegraces who carry on intrigues with the women are shortly called ureuëng tamòng gampōng i.e. "men who come into the gampōng", in which expression night-time is meant to be understood, and the gampōng is supposed to mean all the dwelling-houses as opposed to the meunasah.

It may be concluded with certainty that this institution is of great antiquity, much more so than the present name applied to the building itself, which is derived from the Arabic. We find indeed amongst neighbouring peoples heathen as well as Mohammedan the same nocturnal separation, and a balè or some such building in which the young men sleep and in which meetings are occasionally held for the discussion of matters of public interest[93].

When Islam established itself as the rule of life in Acheh, this resting-place for men became also a house of prayer or chapel for the gampōng, such as are to be found in Java under the appellations langgar, balé[94] or tajug. There are however few gampōngs in which religious zeal is strong enough to cause the assemblage of a considerable number in the meunasah for the five obligatory daily prayers.

Prayers.All are at work or employed in their own affairs, and whoever wishes to perform the appointed prayers (seumayang) does so at home or wherever he may chance to be at the time. The most that is done at the meunasah is to beat at sunset the great drum (tambu) made of a hollowed tree-trunk with buffalo-leather stretched over one end. This is beaten to announce the time for the mugréb prayer which in all Mohammedan countries is more strictly observed than the other four and is generally begun punctually at sunset, its appointed time. The day's work is then as a rule finished and the young men assemble at that hour in the meunasah in any case, albeit not for the purpose of performing the seumayang.

If the heads of the village are not particularly zealous and devout, and the young men are not impelled to the performance of this duty by shame or through fear of some religious teacher, it not unfrequently happens that few or none of those present perform the seumayang.

It is only in the fasting month that prayers are offered up with regularity, at least in the evenings; but as we shall see in a later chapter the proceedings at these are of such a nature that really pious people avoid the neighbourhood of the meunasah as much as possible.

In some gampōngs, however, the meunasah responds better to the religious purposes for which it is intended. Not only are the obligatory religious exercises held there by a congregation of men under the leadership of a teungku, but they sometimes also while away the evenings or nights with non-obligatory acts of devotion. Prominent among these is the simultaneous intoning of the terribly noisy ratéb saman (Ar. ratib Sammān, from the saint of that name who lived at Medina a couple of centuries ago). This litany is also popular in Java and may be heard almost every week in many Batavian kampongs.

The young people, however, delight more in the chanting of other ratébs which have in common with the religious litanies only the name and the noise, such as the ratéb pulèt and the ratéb sadati, which we shall notice under the heading of games and recreations. Thus there are always to be found among the furniture of the meunasah, in addition to the tambu aforesaid, certain objects required for these ratébs, such as the kettledrums called rapaʾi or rapana, the wooden rings known as pulèt etc.

With these exceptions the furniture of the meunasah is but scanty; a large lamp (kandé) only lighted on the nights of the fasting month, it being left at other times to those who use the meunasah to bring their own lamps if they require them; sleeping-mats which each lays down for himself, and an occasional mosquito-curtain (kleumbu) form its entire equipment.

Where the heads of the village are not both pious and watchful, the meunasah it apt to become the scene of all manner of Achehnese iniquities. In its courtyard fights of cocks and other fighting birds are held, while within the building gambling goes on and paederasty is shamelessly practised at night.

Besides being a sleeping-place for the men, a rest-house for strangers and a house of prayer or chapel, the meunasah also serves as a place of assemblage on various special occasions. The affairs of the gampōng are there debated, village festivals held, contracts of marriage concluded etc. A person of rank who comes from elsewhere to pay an unexpected visit to the people of the gampōng, usually goes in the first place to the meunasah, and from thence sends someone to announce his arrival.

Déahs.Some gampōng-chapels are built not on posts but on a raised stone foundation finished on the top with cement. A stone stairs gives access to the building which is itself generally of wood, with a masonry niche (mèhrab or mèrab) to indicate the direction of Mecca. Its courtyard is sometimes surrounded by a low stone wall forming a square. Such more imposing structures are called déah[95], and fulfil the same purposes as the meunasah. There are also however certain teachers of note who for their own use and that of their pupils construct a meunasah or déah in their own courtyard. Similar chapels may also be found near sacred graves, but the purpose of such buildings is obviously different from that of the meunasah or déah of the gampōng.

The Friday services are never held in these chapels any more than in the langgar in Java.

In the neighbourhood of the meunasah or déah there often stands a balè i. e. a raised covered platform, which serves as auxiliary to the former.

The administration of the gampōng.Let us now consider the administration of the gampōng. This is composed of three elements:

I. The keuchhiʾ with one or more wakis at his disposal.

II. The teungku.

III. The ureuëng tuha.

All three are worthy of closer remark.

The keuchiʾI. The keuchiʾ[96], the headman or father of the gampōng, borrows his authority from the ulèëbalang of the province to which his village belongs. This office, like almost all others in Acheh, has become hereditary, and even an infant son (under the guardianship of a male relation) often succeeds his father therein; but every keuchiʾ is aware that the first of his forefathers who held the post was appointed by the ulèëbalang and that the latter can at any moment deprive him of it.

Where the appointment of keuchiʾs is, as occasionally happens, in the hands of the imeum of their district, this simply testifies to the great personal influence of such imeum, to whom the ulèëbalang has delegated a portion of his own authority.

The fact that the keuchiʾ can as a rule exercise his authority without opposition is however due not so much to the support he enjoys at the hands of his chief, as to his being always the representative of the interests and as far as possible the wishes of the whole gampōng against the ulèëbalang himself as well as against other gampōngs, or against the exaggerated demands of some of his own subjects. It is no empty saying which the Achehnese quote to one another in their councils—keuchiʾ eumbah, teungku ma="the keuchiʾ is (our) father and the teungku (our) mother".

All peace-loving inhabitants of a gampōng are convinced of the necessity for having one person to speak or negotiate in the name of all; the more so because as we shall presently see, sundry family matters such as marriage, divorce, the bringing up of orphans or changes of residence are treated in Acheh as matters affecting the whole gampōng. Equally convinced are all, that this representative of their common interest should be someone who finds favour in the eyes of the ulèëbalang. At the same time he is not likely to become too willing a tool in the latter's hands, for he too is an inhabitant of the gampōng. His office is essentially an honorary one. It is no doubt much sought after, but is only desirable when the holder can hit it off well with his own people.

The devolution from father to son is also regarded as natural and right, not only because other dignities are hereditary, but also because there is in the nature of things stored up in an ancient family of keuchiʾs a collection of traditional knowledge with regard to the laws and usages of the country that might in vain be sought for among others.

The best of keuchiʾs would fail to compel his people to obey unreasonable commands. Vain would be his interference with all trifling matters not classified in accordance with the adat as "interest of the gampōng". This he knows too well to run the risk of burning his fingers. But when the keuchiʾ emphatically lays down that one of his fellow-villagers shall not sell his rice-field to A or marry his daughter to B, or himself not wed in gampōng X, or must yield to his neighbour in some disputed right, so little suspicion is entertained of the purity of his intentions, that disobedience to his word is rendered practically impossible by the agreement of the majority.

Acheh is certainly to an exceptional degree a land of polyarchy and misrule; in vain do we seek for discipline, whilst we meet with a quarrelsome and capricious spirit at every step. Taking this into account, and disregarding those few individuals of unusual strength of will and capacity to lead whom one meets with as exceptions in every rank, we can safely assert that the authority of the keuchiʾ rests on a firmer basis than that of any other chief.

Most keuchiʾs exercise control over a single gampōng only; there are, however, some who have from two to four gampōngs in their charge.

We have already noticed and shall presently deal with in greater detail the Achehnese adat according to which the husband takes up his abode with the family of his wife.

In connection with this custom it will be understood that it is particularly desirable for a future keuchiʾ to marry in his own gampōng as otherwise his place of abode as a married man would lie within the sphere of another keuchiʾ, and he would appear in his own territory as a stranger and be obliged to lodge in the meunasah.

There are however exceptions to the rule that the husband follows the wife, and to these belong such cases as that of a keuchiʾ who finds himself constrained by circumstances to marry a woman from a different village. With the approval of the family or rather of the authorities of the gampōng of the woman, the latter may then accompany her husband to the scene of his official labours.

Sources of income of the keuchiʾ.We have called the office of a village headman an honorary one, and indeed the sources of income to which he may lay claim according to the adat are scarcely worth mentioning. They are in fact confined to what is called the haʾ katib or haʾ chupéng, the fees for his indispensable help in the arrangement of the marriage of a woman of his gampōng. Even though everyone adds what his means allow to the amount, absurdly small for these times, of ¼ of a dollar (samaïh = one mas) allowed by the adat, the total income derivable from this source remains extremely small. As the keuchiʾ has no real judicial power, the only profit he can obtain from the fines and costs of process which the administration of justice brings in to the ulèëbalang takes the form of a present for his trouble in bringing the parties from his gampōng and collecting the requisite evidence for the questions at issue. The same holds good of the percentages levied by the ulèëbalang on the division of heritages and other similar sources of income.

There are however other methods—part permitted, part underhand,—by which the keuchiʾ can derive some slight profit from an office as burdensome as it is honourable.

It is no part of his duty to augment the number of lawsuits between the people of his gampōng; on the contrary he must try, like a good father, to bring every difference to an amicable settlement. Suppose now that a case presents itself in regard to which he can say with certainty that if brought before the ulèëbalang it would involve payment of a considerable fine by the party found to be in the wrong; or suppose again that his mediation is called in for the collection of a debt, and he can prove by examples that the ulèëbalang would not assist the creditor to recover his due without a deduction of one-third or one-half of the amount. Is it to be wondered at that the father of the gampōng impresses emphatically upon his children the advantage of submitting themselves to his decision, and the fairness of giving him for his trouble a small share of what they would otherwise undoubtedly lose?

An esteemed and intelligent keuchiʾ is able to give to these arbitrative decisions (for which he is endowed with full powers) a very wide range, to his own great advantage and yet not to the detriment of the suitors, who know only too well that the judgments they would obtain by resorting to chiefs who have less sympathy in their interests, would be more costly but no whit better than those of the keuchiʾ.

Other services which the keuchiʾ renders to his dependants are performed by him with greater or less readiness and zeal in proportion to the amount of the presents[97] which "cement friendship"[98]. The "father" on his part can always make such claims on the good-nature of his "children" as are recognized as lawful. At all gampōng-festivals—and these include the most important family feasts as well—the place of honour is allotted to the keuchiʾ. He has thus no lack of meals for which he has nothing to pay, and in Acheh such trifles form a serious part of the emoluments of office.

Thus we may say upon the whole that the office of the Achehnese keuchiʾ, the "father of the community", is held in high esteem chiefly on account of the honour, but also because of the more solid advantages connected with it.

As subordinates, who are more properly at the keuchiʾs disposition than the people of the gampōng in general, he has his wakis[99], literally attorneys or deputies.

Every keuchiʾ has at least one such subordinate, and where he exercises control over more than one gampōng, one for each gampōng. The position taken by the wakis greatly depends on their personal characteristics. Some are not much more than the messengers of their keuchiʾs, while others actually take the place of the father of the community in many cases, or even govern him to some extent through their greater strength of character.The profits enjoyed by them may be described as the gleanings of those which the keuchiʾ reaps from his office.

In the dialects of the highlands (XXII Mukims) and of the VII Mukims Buëng[100], which as we have seen have so much in common with the Tunòng, the father of the community is called waki and his subordinate keuchiʾ, or geuchiʾ as it is there pronounced.

Authority of the keuchiʾ.It is the duty of the keuchiʾ, assisted by the other authorities of the gampōng whom he can always summon to his aid, to maintain to the best of his ability the good order and safety, and also the material prosperity of his domain. Of this prosperity abundance of population is regarded as an important factor; and thus a close supervision on the part of the "father" over the comings and goings of his "children", so far as these might tend to dispersal of the united body, is considered as amply justified.

The keuchiʾ cannot without difficulty prevent a full-grown man from straying away as a pepper-planter to the East or West Coast or elsewhere, however much he may deplore the gap caused by his absence. But the wanderer must leave his wife at home; the adat will not permit her to accompany her husband except in performing the pilgrimage to Mecca or in the rare cases where the wife, after due deliberation of the two gampōngs concerned, leaves her own house and gampōng for that of her husband.

Change of residence of a family to another gampōng does not take place without the consent of the keuchiʾ, which is equally required for a strange household to establish themselves for the first time in his gampōng.

No marriage can be concluded without the consent of the keuchiʾ. Only where the population is superabundant and the supply of marriageable girls and women without husbands by no means excessive, will
GROUP OF PEOPLE FROM THE MUKIM OF LUENG BATA.
GROUP OF PEOPLE FROM THE MUKIM OF LUENG BATA.

GROUP OF PEOPLE FROM THE MUKIM OF LUENG BATA.

he agree offhand to a man of his gampōng marrying outside it. "There are plenty of women here", he objects, "why should you go and scatter your seed elsewhere?" This hampering of the freedom of marriage, which is based alone on the adat and is positively in conflict with the hukōm or religious law, has at present much greater practical significance than the adat-theory forbidding intermarriage between certain kawōms, which we noticed some time back.

The keuchiʾ will rarely raise objections to the marriage of girls of his gampōng to men from elsewhere; the increase of population due to such unions is half of it pure gain.

As we see, the Achehnese are far from being afraid of over-population. The gampōng as a whole takes all the more trouble to keep its component parts together and ensure increase of numbers, because the individuals are often too little disposed to contribute their share. The Achehnese themselves assert that married couples with a number of children are very much in the minority; by their own confession they make much use both in and out of wedlock of expedients for preventing pregnancy or causing miscarriage[101].

The teungku.II. The teungku, says the proverb, is the mother of the gampōng.

Teungku is the title given in general to all in Great-Acheh who either hold an office in connection with religion or distinguish themselves from the common herd by superior knowledge or more strict observance of religious law. In Pidië and on the East Coast the holders of worldly offices or worldly distinctions also enjoy the title of teungku, but such persons are in Great-Acheh distinguished by that of teuku. The keuchiʾ, the panglima, the imeum and the ulèëbalang are all called by the latter title, and so also are wealthy people, elders and even persons without any real claim to distinction, by those who regard them as their superiors or wish to flatter them. In the case of ulèëbalangs or distinguished imeums the word ampōn is affixed[102] both in the second[103] and third persons. Both the words teungku and teuku appear to be originally contractions of tuanku (my lord) which in its full form, with or without the addition of ampōn (always with it in the presence of the person meant) is only applied to the descendants of sultans.

The title of teungku[104] is applied both to the leubè[105] who, even though he be no scholar, observes his religious obligations faithfully, the haji who has performed the pilgrimage to Mekka, the malém[106] who has some knowledge of the kitabs or holy books, the além[107] who has brought his studies to perfection, the ulama[107], who is looked upon as an authority on the subject of religious law and doctrine, and the sayyid (sayét) or descendant of Mohammed. It is also applied to both men and women who give elementary instruction (even if it be only in reciting the Quran) and to the kalis who act as ecclesiastical judges in an ulèëbalangship, as well as to the male "mother of the gampōng" with whom we are now concerned.

This last teungku, when it is necessary to distinguish him from all the others who enjoy the same title, is called the teungku meunasah, using the latter word not so much in the sense of the mens' lodging as that of the chapel of the gampōng. From this it may be seen that this office is connected with religion.

Just as the keuchiʾ devotes himself more especially to maintaining the adat, though the promotion of godly living among his people is also regarded as a part of his duty, so is the upholding of the hukōm (religious law) the special province of the teungku, though a knowledge of and regard for the customary laws is in his case also regarded as indispensable.

Hukōm and adat."Hukōm and adat are inseparable, even as God's essence and his attributes"[108], says the Achehnese proverb. To make the sense complete we may well add, "but the greatest of these is adat". This may indeed be seen from the attitude of the representatives of these two inseparable elements. In most cases, it is true, where a matter affecting the interests of the gampōng or its inhabitants has to be decided, father keuchiʾ and mother teungku both appear on the stage, but the teungku has as a rule little to say, and appears to be present rather honoris causâ except in matters relating to marriage. We shall see presently that the relation between the ulèëbalang and his kali exhibits many points of resemblance to the above, but is if possible still less favourable to the hukōm.

As teungku meunasah it would naturally be the duty of the "mother" of the gampōng to see that this building answered to some extent the religious objects for which it is intended. Such however is very rarely the case, and in these exceptional instances it is more due to the piety of the keuchiʾ than to the faithful fulfilment of his duty by the teungku. Not every teungku is able (and few indeed have even the inclination) to appear in the meunasah and lead the service, at the times appointed for the five daily prayers; it is much if he does so fairly regularly at sunset (see p. 62 above).

As regards the furniture of the meunasah he need take little trouble, since as we have seen it is exceedingly sparse and most of it is private property. The task of sweeping the floor and keeping the kulam (water tank) full devolves on the younger occupants of the meunasah. This kulam is used for washing the feet or for ritual ablutions by all who enter the building and for bathing by the young men. Should the latter prove neglectful in the fulfilment of their duties they are reminded of them by their seniors.

It is only in the fasting month (Puasa) that the teungku is noticeably the man of the meunasah. When we come to review the calendar of feasts we shall see that during the nights of this month there is a great deal of vitality in the meunasah and that the presence of the teungku is indispensable for various matters, but especially for the performance of the trawèh service (see Chapter II § 2). The popular idea of the Achehnese is that the pitrah which the teungku receives from all at the end of the fasting month is a sort of payment for this trawèh!

If the teungku is more or less malém (skilled in booklore), this will tend greatly to increase his revenues, as he will then be called in to give his help in all kinds of sickness or other misfortune, and receive payment for his ministrations. Sick children will be brought to him that he may blow on their heads after muttering a tangkay (prayer or formula to lay evil spirits), or else he will be requested to charm some water. On such occasions no great demands are made upon the skill of the exorcist; women are often heard to say to those who refuse to render such a service on the ground of absolute want of skill, "oh, do just blow a little!"

The teungku is also occasionally the recipient of votive gifts, either some flowers from the market, such as the Achehnese delight in attaching to their head-gear, or dishes with good things of various sorts. When a gift of this sort has been vowed to the Prophet, to the saint Mirah Sab or Meurasab (who lies buried at Nagore in British India) or even to Teungku Anjōng, whose tomb is in Gampōng Jawa, the vow may be fulfilled by handing over the thing promised to a teungku for his own use. All that the latter need do is to recite over the gift the first chapter of the Quran (the fātihah), and dedicate the celestial recompense for that recitation to him to whom the vow was made.

Beyond these special sources of income (which in cases of total incompetence are withheld from the teungku and fall to the share of some leubè or malém) he has no lack of other more or less obligatory presents in kind. For instance, not only is it adat to invite the teungku to every kanduri or religious feast, but there are many kinds of kanduris which cannot be held without his presence, even such as do not require the attendance of the keuchiʾ.

Where the teungku gives religious instruction this again brings him in no inconsiderable profit; though here of course some grasp of his subject is indispensable.

The most certain sources of the income of the teungku are:

Sources of income of the teungku.1°. The pitrah, paid by almost every householder for himself and his family at the conclusion of the fast. It consists of two arès of husked rice for every person so taxable, which includes almost the whole community. This tax is, however, sometimes commuted for a money payment in the following manner. The teungku sells his own rice to his debtor, who then hands back the quantity due as pitrah, thus paying the tax according to law "in the staple grain of the country".

2°. The jakeuët (zakāt). This is not so regularly paid as the pitrah, many contributing a portion only and some none at all. We speak only of the rice-zakāt (jakeuët padé), which consists of one-tenth of the harvest. Jakeuët of cattle is seldom or never contributed, and those who pay it on gold, silver or merchandise do so entirely of their own accord and are equally free in the manner of its distribution. In many districts the teungku himself goes to the fields where the crop is standing to remind the owners of their obligations. The latter then set apart the smallest sheaves and give a portion of these to the teungku, keeping the rest for the wandering poor strangers, hajis and converts (muʾalah) who are wont to come and beg for this dole. We shall again allude to this custom in dealing with the subject of agriculture. In some provinces a considerable portion of the jakeuët and pitrah falls into the hands of the ulèëbalang while the teungku only gets the share elsewhere allotted to the "poor and necessitous" (paki and meuseukin).

3°. Money presents for the arrangement of marriages. The fee fixed for this purpose by the theoretical adat is merely the haʾ katib or chupéng of ¼ of a dollar for the keuchiʾ; but as a matter of fact the keuchiʾ gets more and the teungku hardly ever less than a dollar. Further mention of this will be found under the heading of marriage.

4°. The haʾ teuleukin or burial fee. According to the theoretical adat this amounts to ¼ of a dollar for each interment but in practice it is generally a dollar or more. The teungku is also presented with the ija peukréng or cloth wherewith the body is dried after the ablution, and a certain sum for tahils[109]. His help is also required for the ceremonies which take place during the first 40 days after the death, and for this he receives a further remuneration. All this will be described in greater detail when we come to treat of funeral ceremonies.

5°. Various gleanings from the fees of the keuchiʾ when the teungku accompanies the latter on his visits to the ulèëbalang for the settlement of profitable suits.

There are no doubt some teungkus of capacity, but on the whole their ignorance is proverbial. Thus in the common speech of the Achehnese, when a teungku is specially referred to as teungku meunasah (in contradistinction to leubès, maléms, etc.) there is generally a covert allusion to his lack of learning. This is not to be wondered at, as the office in most cases devolves on the son or nearest male heir of a deceased holder of the post. A child is, however, seldom or never made teungku, and the ulèëbalang more often diverges from the rule of devolution in the appointment of a teungku than in that of a keuchiʾ. Still hereditary succession remains the rule.

It may be well imagined how much more scandalous are the results of adhering to this principle in the case of an office for the proper discharge of the duties of which some study of Mohammedan law is indispensable, than in that of appointments connected with adat, for which a practical knowledge of the world is more requisite than scholarly lore. A keuchiʾ of scant experience is merely a less useful man than others of his class, and finds in his gampōng plenty of people who can supply the gap by advice and practical help; but an unlettered teungku is absolutely useless.

Many teungkus then simply hand over the discharge of all their functions to some better instructed fellow-villager. At the same time they make no abdication of their office, and none dares to perform their duties without their express authority or invitation. They take delivery of the profits themselves, giving some small recompense for their trouble to the leubès or maléms who act for them.

The sphere within which the teungku exercises his functions is usually a single gampōng, or if the gampōng has more than one meunasah, a single meunasah.

The elders.III. The ureuëng tuha, which is the exact equivalent of our word "elders". They are the men of experience, worldly wisdom, good manners and knowledge of adat in the gampong. They are generally persons who have reached a certain time of life, but if a younger man is distinguished by the above characteristics, he is equally eligible as an ureuëng tuha[110], and is reckoned as one of the body of elders, which lends an indispensable support to the keuchiʾ and teungku.

The number of the members of this body is uncertain; they are neither appointed nor regularly chosen but so to speak silently acknowledged by common assent. When the teungku and keuchiʾ meet to discuss important gampōng affairs (including most family matters), the elders are also to be found whether summoned or not. No unauthorized person ventures to take part in these debates, as by doing so he would expose himself to ridicule; but when calls have once or twice been made on the tact, experience and knowledge of adat of any individual, he becomes known as an ureuëng tuha and his voice has its weight in all future deliberations.

Mupakat.The Achehnese are great lovers of mupakat[111], in form at least if not in actuality. The most insignificant subjects give rise to diffuse exchange of opinions. The more important chiefs are loth to deal with questions affecting their districts and their dependants except in the presence of some persons who as it were represent the latter; did they neglect to "deliberate" with these delegates they would quickly lose their influence. Habib Abdurrahman once told me that the mupakat forms the strongest factor in the statescraft of an administrator[112] among the Achehnese; such deliberative gatherings are the instrument by which he ensures the carrying out of many a scheme. By this device his weaker opponents are terrorized, while the stronger are flattered, and finally many are won over and even persuaded that they themselves were the originators of the proposed plan.

It thus follows as a matter of course that in the gampōng, that great household of father keuchiʾ and mother teungku, the eldest sons at any rate, and such of the citizens as may be regarded as brothers of the two parents, have a voice in every discussion.

In the orations which the Achehnese addresses either directly or by proxy to the authorities of his gampōng, the prelude always runs thus "Now, oh Teuku Keuchiʾ, Teungku and ye who are elders of this gampōng". To these are also addressed the notices employed on some few occasions to announce certain events (such as a divorce for instance) to the whole gampōng. These three components of the governing body of the gampōng are deputed to make proposals of marriage, it is they that receive the bridegroom in the name of the gampōng and help to decide questions as to the bringing up of orphans, and in their presence all important bargains are concluded.

Among them also are to be found the speech-makers of the gampōng. We shall meet later on some specimens of Achehnese speeches for particular occasions, which though tedious are sometimes not ungraceful, and are very full of interest from an ethnological point of view as a storehouse of old formulas.

They are almost invariable in form although there is no lack of local differences and individual embellishments. The keuchiʾ or whoever may be acting as president of the assembly does not always know these long formal orations by heart, and it is thought quite the correct thing for a chief to transfer the task of speech-making to another by a nod. In such cases the speaker is usually one of the ureuëng tuha.

The adat meulangga.We have seen that the keuchiʾ and his colleagues take the position of arbitrators in the widest sense of the word, but possess no judicial authority properly so called. There are, however, individual cases which are controlled by an adat of native growth, which has clearly lost much of its original severity, called the adat meulangga. In these cases the keuchiʾs appear in form as the representatives of the two parties, but as a matter of fact as settlers of the dispute.

Occasion for the application of the adat meulangga is generally given by an actual injury or slight. For example, someone in gampōng A has without just cause maltreated or injured a child or relative of someone in gampōng B, or has laid hands on something belonging to the latter in a manner clearly indicative of contempt for the owner. Independently of all rights of blood-vengeance or blood-money (which according to hukōm and adat are the natural consequences of the deed, and are entirely unaffected by the adat meulangga) something must at once be done to wipe out the insult. To this end the injured party calls upon the authorities of his gampōng, and the latter summon all who are able to bear arms to help their brother. The party who has given the offence knows that he has this to expect, either from hearing the rumour of the preparations or because it is an obvious consequence that the offended one should not let the matter pass without meulangga. Here too the authorities of the gampōng are notified and prepare for resistance.

In due time the men of the offended gampōng appear in the vicinity of the other, and the keuchiʾ of the latter goes forth to meet the uninvited guests and after greeting them respectfully (seumbah) asks what they require. "We have come" they reply, "to uproot by force the trees and courtyard-fence of your fellow-villager X, by reason of the injury he has done to one of our people". Thereupon the other keuchiʾ says that he feels bound to acknowledge the fairness of the complaint, but that this just demand can be satisfied without having recourse to deeds of violence. The father of the offending community then brings to the other one or two plantain-stems from the courtyard and a glundōng-tree from the fence of the guilty party, saying "Here is what you ask for". Sometimes, where the injury is a very serious one, he grants them permission to enter upon the courtyard of the offenders and cut down a certain number of trees. Should the atonement offered by the keuchiʾ not suffice for the satisfaction of honour according to the adat controlling quarrels, long-continued hostilities between two neighbouring gampōngs may supervene; but for the most part the mediation effected under the auspices of the two keuchiʾs is found sufficient.

The day after this symbolical satisfaction the parties meet again to consult as to the guarantees for the establishment of peace. An idang of yellow gelatinous rice (bu kunyèt) and a piece of white cloth must without fail be offered by the offender for "cooling of the blood of others" (peusijuëʾ darah gòb) which he has shed, as the saying is. To this is often added a money present of some considerable amount.

This method of settling a quarrel is never applied to real cases of theft, adultery or homicide, or even of bodily hurt of a serious description. The wounds inflicted must be healed before recourse is had to meulangga.

If the injured party is a person of position or a member of the family of such a one, or his follower, then something further must be done, as the injury is regarded as more serious in proportion to the high standing of him who is the subject of it. The ulèëbalang himself when one of his folk is the injured party enters the lists not as chief or judge but as avenger. Either in person or by one of his next of kin as deputy, he goes forth at the head of a host of followers to the gampōng of the offenders, where he is received with special tokens of humility and prayers for pardon.

In addition to the traditional plantain-stalks and glundōng-trees which represent the destruction of the plantation of the guilty party, the latter's house must in this case be symbolically burnt. Accordingly a hut (jambō) is constructed of slight materials and set on fire amid the plaudits (suraʾ) of the avengers. Though all are aware that this burning is the veriest farce, great insistence is laid upon its performance in serious cases. The dependants of the chief can afterwards proudly say to the people of the surrounding gampōngs: "Saw ye not the smoke rise from the burning of the house of X? Yes, we are no Niasese slaves or Klings to let ourselves be injured without exacting vengeance, or to content ourselves with a mere indemnity!"

Destruction of house and courtyard, probably accompanied by bodily hurt or even death to the owner[113] was the original meulangga as the word itself (cf. the Malay langgar) implies.

More peaceful times and calmer manners have substituted for this the dramatic exhibition we have just described, a sort of gampōng-duel, usually of quite a harmless character.

Meulangga may take place within the gampōng also, when anyone has injured his fellow-villager. It is then the male relatives of the injured party that proceed to make the demand, and those of the offender who satisfy it, while the gampōng authorities merely take care that no excess is committed.

In conclusion, it sometimes happens that one ulèëbalang has to meulangga upon the territory of another. Suppose for instance that a servant (rakan) of ulèëbalang A has wounded a dependant of ulèëbalang B without clear proof of strong provocation. After preliminary notice B proceeds with his followers to some place within A's territory and demands of him that the house of his guilty dependant be burned down. A small hut brought thither for the purpose is generally burnt to satisfy the claim, and thus honour is appeased; for the rest the case is dealt with in the ordinary manner, the blood-debt being made good in accordance with the adat.


§ 6. The Mukim and its Administration.

The Mukim.Between the gampōng-authorities and the ulèëbalang or territorial ruler stand the imeums, the chiefs of the mukims. We have already concluded in regard to a certain portion of the political structure of Acheh, that it owes its origin to the centralizing activity of one or more port-kings. The same analogy holds good beyond question as regards the distribution of the territory of an ulèëbalang into the districts known as mukims and the office of imeum or district chief. We might even go further and assert that this institution has sprung from the influence of the ulamas and other representatives of religion at which we have already hinted (see p. 7 above). In this way alone can we explain the fact that a political distribution not Achehnese in origin has established itself in a fairly uniform manner both in the three sagis or main divisions of the kingdom and in its subordinate parts as well.

It is difficult to determine to what particular prince we should ascribe the subdivision into mukims. Whoever he was, he did not in all probability invent it of himself; something of the kind originated of its own accord in those parts of the country most subject to the influence of religion, and was later extended over the whole territory by the activity of the ulamas. It is certain, however, that the real intention of this political innovation failed in the long run.


Original intention of the subdivision into Mukims.The nature of this intention may at once be seen from the names. Mukim is an Arabic word, the proper meaning of which is the inhabitant of a place. The Mohammedan law, as interpreted by the Shafiite school which is dominant in Acheh, teaches that in order to form a quorum for a Friday service the presence of at least forty free male mukims of full age is required[114]. If the number falls short of forty, those assembled must hold in place of the Friday service an ordinary midday prayer. In places where the number of forty can never be reckoned on, no arrangements whatever are made for the Friday service; hence in the gampōng chapels in Acheh as well as other parts of the Archipelago the requisite apparatus for this service is never to be found.

On the other hand the Moslim law requires of every free male believer of full age that he should attend the Friday service if such be held within a certain distance of his abode, unless circumstances (which in their turn are clearly defined) prevent him from doing so. From this personal duty he is by no means excused on the ground that there is, for example, a full congregation of forty without him. Thus pious and influential Mohammedans must make it their object to multiply the opportunities for attending this service, and to further the erection of mosques for Friday prayer[115] in all places where a congregation of forty or upwards can be reckoned on.

In Acheh as well as elsewhere the devotees of religion have undoubtedly laboured in this direction since the time that the creed of Islam began to take root there. Where a number of gampōngs lay sufficiently close to one another to admit of their being united into a single Friday association (if we may so term it) in accordance with the above-mentioned behests of the religious law, they constructed a mosque (meuseugit), choosing for the purpose the most central possible site. This might sometimes fall within one of the gampōngs so united, where this gampōng happened to form the central point of the union, or again a place lying without all the gampōng enclosures might be considered the most suitable position. For some of these associations the gampōngs of which are most widely dispersed and at the same time most numerous (some include from 10 to 12) "district" would be the most applicable name. Others, whose gampōngs rather resemble "wards" lying side by side and do not generally exceed four, the normal number in Acheh, might more fitly be termed "townships". The Achehnese call them all mukim; such distortion of the original meaning of Arabic words is no rare phenomenon in the native languages of the Indian Archipelago.

The imeums.At first the chiefs of the mukims had without doubt a wholly or largely religious task to fulfil, namely to provide that God's law should be enforced and especially that the prescribed rites should not be neglected. Their official title of imeum (Ar. imām), brings them into close connection with the meuseugit, which forms the centre of their sphere of action, and with the religious worship held therein[116]. They should be for the mosque what the teungku is for the meunasah.

The Achehnese mosque differs little from the déah described above (see p. 63). Like the latter it is built of planks and rests not on posts but on a raised stone foundation, and is provided with a stone niche. Close to the niche stands a pulpit (bimba from Ar. mimbar). There is also the traditional staff (tungkat) which the preacher holds in his hand, and some mats for those who perform the seumayang or service of prayer.

Certain mosques the erection of which is among the institutions ascribed to the Sultan Meukuta Alam (1607–36) were recognized as "great mosques" (meuseugit raya) both on account of their size and the fact of their being erected by a sovereign prince, and also because they were regarded as being the head mosques of a great number of mukims. Such is the great mosque par excellence, the Meuseugit Raya of the capital, from which the whole district surrounding the ancient seat of royalty takes its name. Besides this there was one for each of the three sagis of Great Acheh viz. that of Indrapuri, which still exists, for the XXII Mukims, that of Indrapeurua (in the VI Mukims of the XXV) for the XXV, and that of Indrapatra, 'almost in the very place where Ladòng now stands, for the XXVI Mukims. Of the last two scarcely any trace remains. In Pidië too there were a number of mosques which enjoyed the reputation of having been erected by Meukuta Alam and which were thus also called meuseugit raya.

It is impossible now to trace the extent of the supervision over the
THE MEUSEUGET (MOSQUE) OF INDRAPURI.
THE MEUSEUGET (MOSQUE) OF INDRAPURI.

THE MEUSEUGET (MOSQUE) OF INDRAPURI.

gampōngs allotted to the imeums according to the original intent of the distribution into mukims. In Acheh as in other Mohammedan countries, so soon as a degree of religious supervision is permitted to any individual, a wide field is opened to his ambition, since in theory everything can be brought within the scope of religion and religious law. At the same time the door is opened to manifold competition and strife, since the existing chiefs naturally set their faces against any unwonted invasion of their sphere of authority.

So much is certain, that the imeums were necessarily always subordinate to the ulèëbalangs, to whom they owed their election, while they stood superior in some respects at least to the authorities of the gampōng.

Degeneration of the office of imeum.Their office, however, speedily degenerated; it went the way of all Achehnese offices which have not sprung up of their own accord from native sources, but have been naturalized in the country at the will of individuals. In the times of some sultans of unusual power and energy, the central authority undoubtedly proved strong enough to carry out the ruler’s wish to reform existing institutions. But to ensure the durability of such reforms, the moving power should have been less short-lived, and there should have been more continuity in the action and methods of the various rulers.

Apart from the small interest which the port-kings were wont to display in the affairs of the interior, their government was always based on rapacity, and disorder was its only constant feature.

Every office instituted by them showed a tendency soon after coming into being, to assimilate itself with one of true Achehnese origin, preferably such as carried with it social influence and opportunities for enrichment. No office was more distinguished by these characteristics than that of ulèëbalang, and thus we see all holders of offices so artificially created endeavouring by every means in their power to assume the rôle of ulèëbalang.

This was done by the imeums among the rest, and they succeeded pretty well in their object. We have unequivocal proofs to show that more than half a century ago, the imeums were already minor ulèëbalangs.

A celebrated Achehnese heroic poem, the hikayat Pòchut Muhamat, depicts with no small skill the conflict waged by that prince in behalf of his brother Alaédin Juhan Shah (1756–60) against the latter's Arab rival Jamalul-alam. In spite of sundry embroideries which characterize this poem, it is to be noted that it was composed shortly after the war which it describes, and gives upon the whole an accurate description of the events and condition of things at that period. Here, then, we find the imeums appearing as military leaders among whom the prince seeks his supporters, and as chiefs who of their own initiative take the part of the hero or oppose him. It is clear from this epic that even at that time some of the imeums troubled themselves little about the ulèëbalang, to whom they were nominally subordinate, whilst others appear in the retinue of their chiefs as minor ulèëbalangs.

Present character of the office of imeum.So it has continued. The imeums are all adat-chiefs without any religious character. Some of them have attained to the independence of ulèëbalangs and lack the name only; we need only instance the well-known imeum of Luëng Bata who played so distinguished a part in the war with the Dutch as a military leader, or the imeum of Chadéʾ who in the last conflict for royal honours before the Achehnese war was the most powerful supporter of the finally defeated candidate. The majority are, however, actually subordinate to their ulèëbalangs, though the energy of individuals may reduce their subordination to a minimum.

The personelle of the mosque.With the mosques, which were the cause of their first creation, they either do not concern themselves at all (this depends on their personal character) or only just as much as any ulèëbalang who interests himself in religion. The personelle of the mosque in Acheh when complete, consists of the self-same group of three[117], which we find elsewhere in Sumatra; the imeum[118] who should properly preside at all the daily prayers as well as at the Friday service, the haṭib (chaṭib), who takes the lead in the Friday prayers and the bileuë (bilāl) who intones the call to prayer (adan, bang) and keeps the furniture of the mosque in order.

The officials of the mosque are usually ignorant men, and whenever they can find others more devout and learned in the law they gladly make over their duties to them. Should such be wanting, the personelle of the mosque is often insufficient and it rests on chance from week to week whether the Friday service shall be held or replaced by an ordinary midday prayer. Sometimes again the congregation of 40 males falls short, and sometimes no one can be found who is able to read a sermon.

The Friday service.Complaints of ulamas and other pious persons as to the lack of interest in public worship are universal. Should a mosque fall into disrepair, the greatest difficulty is experienced in collecting the necessary funds and building materials for its restoration. The general co-operation for the re-building of the Meuseugit Raya or principal mosque of Acheh, which took place in the prime of Habib Abdurrahman's activity, is always quoted as an exception to the rule. Such an unusual personality, revered by many and dreaded by the rest, is required in order that even the most moderate demands of religion may be satisfied. The true Achehnese, if he does not entirely neglect the calls of his creed, takes part with more zeal in the religious or quasi-religious gatherings in the meunasah than in the assemblages at the mosque, where he feels himself but half at home.

Kanduris (religious feasts) he gives and attends with pleasure; at ratébs or recitations, whether real or only imitative like the ratéb sadati and pulèt, he can excite himself to the highest pitch; but the ritual prescribed by the law fails to rouse his enthusiasm.

It is not surprising then that an imeum who tries to assume the part of leubè or theologian is from his very rarity an almost ludicrous object in Acheh. The real imeum goes armed like the ulèëbalang, with an armed following. His position is at once to be gathered from his distinctive appellation which is teuku and not teungku, the latter being in Great Acheh the title of all who borrow their rank to some extent from religion. By his own dependents in his capacity of chief of the mukim, he is even exalted to the dignity of teuku ampōn when addressed directly.

This office also is generally hereditary[119], subject to the power of appointment and dismissal vested in the ulèëbalang.

Having seen that hardly anything still survives of the original functions of the imeum, it now remains for us to describe those which have arisen in its place.

The imeum is regarded by the gampōngs subject to him as a sort of acting ulèëbalang, and the latter employs him as his deputy in making known and helping to carry out his commands and decisions within his (the imeum's) jurisdiction. In some parts of the XXII Mukims which are situated too far from the headquarters of the ulèëbalang to admit of all matters of importance being subjected to his decision, the adat has assigned a measure of judicial authority to specified boards of imeums. Groups of three or four mukims are united for this purpose, and the decision of the three or four imeums has the same force as that of the ulèëbalang[120].

This is however exceptional; as a rule the imeum has just as little judicial authority as the heads of the gampōngs, but in the quality of arbitrator he can deal with questions that lie outside the reach of the village authorities, inasmuch as more than one gampōng is concerned in them. As his income depends entirely on chance profits, he naturally makes it his object to bring as many such questions as possible within his own scope, always on the pretext of acting as mediator, so that his clients may avoid the heavy fines and costs exacted by the ulèëbalang.

Under a powerful ulèëbalang the imeum is not much more than a go-between; under a weak ulèëbalang an energetic imeum can within the limits of his own jurisdiction entirely supplant his chief. Not unfrequently an imeum when called on by the ulèëbalang to come to his assistance with his followers in time of war, simply remains inactive or even categorically refuses. In times of disorder especially, such as the present, when parties are being formed by others than the traditional chiefs, considerable independence is attained by many imeums. As we have already shown, however, many of them succeeded in emancipating themselves from control in earlier times as well.


§ 7. The ulèëbalangships and their constitution.

The ulèëbalangs.The ulèëbalangs, as we have repeatedly said, are the lords of the country, the territorial chiefs par excellence. They are thus called the rajas (in Achehnese parlance = chiefs) of their territories in writings as well as in the spoken language. As the word ulèëbalang signifies military leader, it is not inconceivable that this name was given them under one of the most powerful of the port-kings, who endeavoured to render them subordinate and allowed them the command over the fighting men in their districts, while he tried gradually to monopolize the supreme power for himself. This effort however, was unsuccessful, for the ulèëbalangs have always continued governors, judges and military leaders in their own country, in which as a matter of fact they admit no higher authority.

The territory of an ulèëbalang has no distinctive name in Achehnese, like "mukim" and "gampōng". The expression "ulèëbalangschap" has been adopted by the Dutch, while the Achehnese speak of "the country (nanggròë) of ulèëbalang so and so" or of "the so many mukims". For the sake of clearness and distinction they sometimes unite the two expressions as in "the seven Mukims Baʾét" i. e. the ulèëbalangship consisting of seven mukims, whose chief is called Teuku Muda Baʾét.

Although the title borne by these chiefs may have been derived from the court at Banda-Acheh, their authority is beyond all doubt of more ancient origin and dependant on no royal letters-patent. Their position was confirmed, not created, by the port-kings. Even the edicts of the most powerful rajas of Acheh express themselves with much circumspection touching the ulèëbalangs, which shows that these rajas, while endeavouring to establish a kind of hegemony, understood that they would do better to respect the powerful position of these potentates of the interior.

The ruling of the adat Meukuta Alam[121] that the ulèëbalangs should receive no letters-patent of appointment from the sultan, was prompted by the consideration that they received their office as an inheritance from their forefathers. This rule however appears to have been forgotten later on; at least now-a-days both ulèëbalangs and chiefs of dependencies regard their rights as by no means dependent on such letters-patent, though both one and the other set some value on them as an embellishment of their rank.

Confederations. The three sagis.Before leaving the subject of the relation of the ulèëbalangs to the

TEUKU MUDA DAWŌT, ULÈËBALANG OF SEULIMEUM (XXII MUKIMS).
TEUKU MUDA DAWŌT, ULÈËBALANG OF SEULIMEUM (XXII MUKIMS).

TEUKU MUDA DAWŌT, ULÈËBALANG OF SEULIMEUM (XXII MUKIMS).

sultanate, which will be dealt with more fully when we come to speak of the sultans themselves, we must make one or two remarks on the confederacies of the ulèëbalangs. We have seen that Acheh proper, outside the limits of the actual sultanate, is divided into three sagòës (sagis) or "angles", each of which is composed of a certain number of mukims whence they derive their names viz. Dua plōh dua (the XXII Mukims), Dua plōh nam (the XXVI Mukims) and Teungòh lhèë plōh (the XXV Mukims). We may notice in passing that the gradual increase of population gave rise here and there (and especially in the XXII Mukims) to the formation of new mukims within the limits of such a sagi[122], so that its name does not always correspond with its actual proportions. The question that excites our special interest is—to what are we to ascribe the origin of this distribution and what has been its significance in regard to the political life of Acheh?

The first question, like most enquiries into the history of Acheh, does not admit of a decisive answer. In the historical notes in the possession of some of the Achehnese chiefs, we meet with the statement that the distribution into sagis came into being in the reign of the sultana Nurul-alam Nakiatōdin (1675–77)[123]. But such traditions are of very little value. To judge of their reliability we have only to reflect that many Achehnese at the present time attribute the introduction of Islam into their country to the saint Chèh Abdōraʾōh (Abduraʾuf = Teungku di Kuala), although it is clearly established that this man lived no earlier than the 17th century. If we might assume that the institution of panglimas of sagis was brought about by a royal edict with the view of emphasizing the authority of the sovereign over all the ulèëbalangs[124], it would appear very extraordinary that it should have attained its consummation under the weak rule of a sultana.

The highest significance which I should venture to ascribe to the historical note in question is this, that under the weak female rule which was highly favoured by the ulèëbalangs for reasons easy to conceive, the latter were able to bring it to pass that every succession to the throne should take place in conformity with the decision of the representatives of the three sagis. Sagis, that is to say confederations of ulèëbalangships, had however undoubtedly been long in existence before they succeeded in bringing the sultanate like an infant under their joint guardianship.

Were it otherwise, and had the sagis been artificially constituted by the sultans or sultanas, they would have fallen into disuse again afterthe lapse of the shortlived period of prosperity of the port-kingship.

This has not taken place. It is true that there has been no lack—what else could be expected in Acheh—of quarrels and even petty wars between ulèëbalangs and imeums belonging to the same confederacy, and the people under the jurisdiction of the same ulèëbalang have always felt more united in mind and purpose with one another than with their other brethren of the same sagi. Still the great mass of chiefs and dependants of any one sagi are understood to form a single united body. This may be regarded as due to propinquity, similarity of manners and dialect and above all community of interest.

The origin of such confederacies is to be ascribed to the force of circumstances. From ancient times, and still more in former years than at the present day, internal conflicts and wars of every description have been the order of the day in Acheh. Just as the gampōngs which standing alone would have lain at the mercy of the first freebooter, protected themselves by uniting under a single ulèëbalang, so must the ulèëbalangs in their mutual strife have perceived the usefulness of offensive and defensive alliances with their neighbours.

It of course remained open to all of them in case of need to seek their allies where they would. Nor was the federation so close as to prevent an occasional defection, or an absence of readiness to burn their fingers on behalf of their allies—a characteristic by no means confined to Acheh. Self-interest has always been the ruling motive, but for this very reason we must admit that the ulèëbalangships which united themselves into sagis had in reality abiding communities of interest; otherwise the very name of the institution would scarce have survived[125].

The panglima sagi.That each federation felt the necessity for a single head, and chose to this end the most powerful and influential ulèëbalang from their midst, is an obvious result of what has been said. The authority of such a panglima sagi extended however only to matters of general interest. For the rest the remaining ulèëbalangs governed their own territories just as though there were no sagi in existence.

All authority in Acheh is in the highest degree personal. Rank is acquired by inheritance, but whether its possessor exercises the influence that attaches to it depends on his individual characteristics. Thus although the rank of panglima sagi became heritable in the family of him who at the conclusion of the alliance was recognized by his fellows as chief, this could not prevent the inheritors of the office from being outvied by others at a later period. Still the feeling of respect for tradition in Acheh is great enough to leave the name and certain outward forms intact.

There was besides the usual conflict between one who is endowed with a loosely defined supremacy and those who find themselves subjected to it; on the one hand eagerness to shake off the yoke as far as possible, and on the other efforts after extended power[126].

Wars and other such special crises always showed whether the panglima sagi had inherited the influence as well as the rank of his forefathers; in times of comparative order and repose he was and still is a mere ulèëbalang like the rest.

Ulèëbalangs of the Sultan. We may here make cursory mention of two other sorts of ulèëbalangs, who exercise no authority within the three sagis. The first is the ulèëbalang poteu, i.e. "ulèëbalangs of our lord (the Sultan)", who either held a position of trust within the Sultan's own territory, or filled a high post at Court, or else owed their titles simply to the royal favour. Such offices are hereditary like the rest. The second is to be found among certain of the chiefs in the outlying dependencies who take some pride in adopting the title of ulèëbalang as a general designation of their rank. The chiefs in Acheh proper who rather look down on these aspirants, are wont to remark in contradiction of their claims, that the rulers of the dependencies are really only keujruëns (kejuruan) or meuntròës (mantri) no matter what titles they may have gained from chance, royal favour or their own arrogance.

Attendants of the ulèëbalang.To return to the ulèëbalangs of Acheh proper, we find then that they are both rajas, military commanders and judges in their own territories. For the exercise of their authority they have the following helpers:

Bantas.a. Their younger brothers or more distant next-of-kin, generally known by the name of bantas. Of these one is the banta[127] par excellence, the ulèëbalang's right-hand man. His duties are something like those of the patih of a Javanese princedom or regency.

Rakans.b. Their rakans (prop. = "companions") i.e. the followers who live in their house or its immediate neighbourhood and receive from them food and clothing for themselves and their families. To these are sometimes added the ureuëng salah as they are called, persons who have been enrolled in the following of the ulèëbalang by way of punishment for some offence or for debt.

c. The panglima prang also ranks to some extent as a member of the ulèëbalang's suite. Anyone who has distinguished himself on some few occasions as a warrior is raised (in just the same way as the panglima kawōm[128], to the rank of panglima prang, a rather empty dignity if considered alone. The weapons (sikin panjang and reunchōng) which he receives from the ulèëbalang on his appointment, he must return to him again if he should ever embrace the cause of an enemy of the latter.

In times of peace these officers have no share in the government or administration of justice; in war the amount of confidence reposed by the ulèëbalang in his panglima prang as leaders of his fighting men depends on the personal qualities of the chief himself.

In ordinary life the title panglima is given to anyone who is known to have taken a share in warlike operations on some few occasions; the abbreviation pang serves as a minor distinction. In Acheh proper as well as the subordinate districts there is in most gampōngs of importance one person who bears the title of panglima prang, but these so-called "war-chiefs" have really nothing to do with war, being only the messengers or attendants of the chiefs.

Imeums and keuchiʾs.d. A further measure of help is derived by the ulèëbalangs from the imeums and keuchiʾs within his jurisdiction. These however represent other interests also besides those of their ulèëbalang, and are thus only conditionally at his disposal.

e. For the administration of justice the ulèëbalang avails himself of the services of a kali (kādhi), whom he himself nominates. The jurisdiction of this officer, as we shall immediately see, is limited to certain minor portions of the family law, and he does nothing except at the command or with the approval of his chief. A more important section of judicial work, which rests almost entirely on adat, is taken out of the hands of the ulèëbalang by the so-called friendly settlements effected by his imeums and keuchiʾs.

How far the ulèëbalang can, in the event for example of a hostile invasion of his territory, reckon upon the help of the above-mentioned officials and of his subjects in general, depends entirely on his personal tact and energy and the influence of his family connections. Though the bantas are his relatives, he must find means to attach them to his cause; the rakans elope if sufficient attention is not paid to their maintenance; the imeums and keuchiʾs in times of difficulty and danger will only follow an ulèëbalang who is able to inspire them with fear or with affection, and otherwise remain inactive or even lend their support to the enemy. Furthermore, the chief who has powerful allies outside his own territory can always exert more influence over his own people.

There is hardly any trace of systematic management in regard to affairs of general interest. The maintenance of public order is effected by the punishment of open offenders, unless the offence has been already avenged either privately (as in most cases of manslaughter, hurt or other personal acts of violence) or through the adats controlling the dwellers in the gampōngs.

Administration of justice in Acheh.We now come to the administration of justice. We know that the Mohammedan law requires independent judges (kāḍhis or their deputies) who are indeed appointed by the head of the community but who, though liable to dismissal for neglect of duty, need never conform to the will of temporal authorities but alone to the all-ruling law of Allah. I have repeatedly drawn attention to the fact that this ideal is never even approximately attained.

Administration of justice in Mohammedan countries generally.This may be partly ascribable to the desire of all Mohammedan rulers to monopolize power, which makes it impossible for them to tolerate in their neighbourhood independent judges with so wide a jurisdiction. But there is more than this: the Mohammedan law is unfitted for the practical administration of justice[129], among other reasons because it greatly hampers the detection of crime, imposes impossible demands on witnesses and fails to take cognizance of historical changes.

As the Mohammedan law itself excludes on principle all intrinsic reform, rulers have everywhere found themselves compelled to provide a practical method of administering justice, and this they have done by constituting themselves the judges in all cases, following partly the prevailing custom of the country and partly their own inclination.

Respect for the admittedly perfect religious law (described in self-justification as too good for modern society) made a twofold concession desirable; first the admission of an appeal to the divine law, of which license it is well known that advantage will hardly ever be taken, and secondly the handing over to the ḳādhi of the decision of such cases as are more especially regarded as being of a religious nature, including the law relating to families.

Adat and religious law in the Indian Archipelago.The first of these two concessions is wanting in the judicial institutions of most peoples of the Indian Archipelago. In its place it is represented as being God’s will that the adat (conceived as the ancient law of the land in the broadest sense of the word, altered but little by the spirit of Mohammedanism) and the hukōm or religious law should govern side by side[130], though in practice the former plays by far the larger part.

But in Acheh even the jurisdiction in matters affecting the family has not been entirely made over to the kali. The latter's most usual duties are:

a. The declaration of the pasah (fasch), the judicial dissolution of a marriage at the instance of one of the parties. Even this is only done by the kali by the authority of the ulèëbalang specially given in each case. The usual recompense to the kali for such a sentence is four dollars. To this is sometimes added a handsome fee for the ulèëbalang, especially when the grounds of a woman's request for pasah are of doubtful sufficiency.

b. Acting as the wali of maidens who wish to get married, and whose proper walis by kinship are either dead or reside at a distance (the limits of which are fixed by the law) from the home of the bride.

The fees for this service vary according to circumstances, just like that given to the teungku meunasah for concluding marriages, one of his duties under the adat.

c. Taking the lead in the very customary baléʾ meudeuhab, a curious evasion of the law, through which the Achehnese consider themselves justified in marrying girls who are not of age, even though the authoritative walis (those in the ascending line) are wanting. Further details on this head will be found in our description of the marriage law. In this case again the regular fee is four dollars.

d. Making the requisite calculations for the division of inheritances, a task which the ulèëbalang is of course unable to perform for himself. The latter however in such cases uses his kali simply as an accountant, as he wishes to keep the control of such matters in his own hands. The ulèëbalang receives the 10% commission allowed him by the adat as haʾ praʾé or succession duty, and even assumes control of the shares of absent heirs and some of those under age, the usual result being that these shares are considerably diminished or entirely disappear.

For making these calculations, which are in all essentials worked out in accordance with the Mohammedan law (v. inf. in our description of customs connected with decease) the kali gets simply such recompense as the ulèëbalang may choose to allow him.

In all other cases or suits brought before the ulèëbalang, the kali as a rule holds aloof. This is because not only the system of evidence adopted, but also the sentences passed, are in such direct conflict with the sacred law that the presence of the representatives of this law would only bring it into contempt. Yet there are some ulèëbalangs who summon their kali on such occasions for form's sake, and after enquiring of him with much apparent solicitude, what would be the fiat of the hukōm in the case under consideration, beg of him to allow the decision in this one instance to be given in accordance with the adat; whereto the kali assents with a respectful seumbah.

Some few pious ulèëbalangs, who of their own accord allowed their kalis a larger share in the administration of justice, or conformed to their advice, are cited as rare exceptions.

The kali rabōn jalé and kali malikōn adé.The panglima sagi was the chief ulèëbalang of his confederation, and his kali was in like manner the chief kali of the sagi. We may perhaps ascribe to the centralizing efforts of certain of the port-kings an attempt which was made to reduce all the other kalis to the position of mere deputies of the chief kali, nominated by him or at least with his concurrence, whilst the chief kali of each sagi received his appointment direct from the hands of the sultan. The bombastic title of these kalis of the sagis, Kali Rabōn Jalé (from the Arab. Qādhi Rabbul Jalīl) = "Judge of the Almighty Lord"[131], undoubtedly dates from the times of active organization in the capital.

Writers on Acheh have accustomed us to the idea that above the kalis of the ulèëbalangs and of the panglima sagi there was enthroned in the capital a supreme hereditary judge who bore the title of Kali Malikōn Adé (Qādhi Malikul Adil) i.e. "Judge of the righteous King". For this notion it appears that we have again to thank Mr. Der Kinderen, whose chief guide in forming this conclusion was the bearer of the title himself. The latter appears (for reasons not difficult to surmise) to have told Mr. Der Kinderen tales regarding his exalted position in flagrant conflict with the truth. He painted an idealized picture of the importance of that position as it was at the time of its first establishment, some two and a half centuries ago, and furbished this up as representing the actual state of things at the present day[132].

The original intention of the powerful port-king (whether Meukuta Alam or an earlier sovereign) who instituted the title of Kali Malikōn Adé, was undoubtedly to have a president of the royal court of justice possessed of an adequate knowledge of the religious law. In making this appointment it was of course never intended to apply this law in its full extent. Such a scheme could have been realized in no Mohammedan country in the world within the last twelve centuries. The whole political system of the port-town even at the zenith of its prosperity was in conflict with the law of Islam.

Perhaps those Achehnese chiefs are not entirely wrong who assert that the wish of the prince who created the office was that his kali should apply the adat as well as the hukōm, and on this account gave him, in contradistinction to the "judges of the Almighty Lord" in the three sagis, the title of "judge of the righteous king". In fact it is in this way that the difference in nomenclature can be best explained[133].

Degeneration of the office of Kali Malikōn Adé.Whether the sultan who established the office in question wished at the same time to endow his own judge with a measure of supremacy over the other three chief kalis, remains uncertain. We only know that if such a scheme existed, nothing came of it. In the first place the great independence of the three sagis would have resisted any such attempt, and in practice a higher appeal from the sentences of the "judges of the Almighty Lord," to the royal court of justice would have miscarried owing to sundry insurmountable difficulties. But besides this the office of "judges of the righteous King" very quickly deteriorated, until in the end it retained nothing more than the title indicative of its origin.

Various causes combined to bring about this deterioration. First the hereditary nature of the office which did not of course endure that the heir should be as learned as his predecessor; then the residence of the holder of the title in the immediate neighbourhood of the court, by which he gained a favourable opportunity of having his office converted into a sort of ulèëbalangship, the end and aim of all Achehnese office-bearers; and lastly the rapid decay of the central power, by which various offices created during the brief period of prosperity lost the reason for their further existence.

Even in the later edicts, which always more or less idealize facts, we find the Kali Malikōn Adé represented as a distinguished courtier, a sort of master of court ceremonies, to whom a fixed portion of the harbour dues was assigned. He became what was called ulèëbalang pòten, "ulèëbalang of our lord" (the sultan), equal in rank to the almost independent provincial chiefs, with all the worldly pretension appertaining to their rank, but without territory. The official title of Teuku which he bore and still bears, points unequivocally to the complete secularization of his office.

Finally one of the holders of this title, making use of the special favour of the prince towards him and of the weakness of the then
THE LATE TEUKU KALI MALIKŌN ADÉ STANDING ON THE STEPS OF THE HIS NEW HOUSE.
THE LATE TEUKU KALI MALIKŌN ADÉ STANDING ON THE STEPS OF THE HIS NEW HOUSE.

THE LATE TEUKU KALI MALIKŌN ADÉ STANDING ON THE STEPS OF THE HIS NEW HOUSE.

Panglima Meuseugit Raya (the head of the 24 or more gampōngs on either side of the Acheh river, in the neighbourhood of the court and principal mosque) succeeded in gaining control over half the latter's jurisdiction. Since then we find the Teuku Kali at the acme of the wishes of an Achehnese official, chief of a small but important territory, and at the same time, in his capacity as a court dignitary, not without influence in the choice of a successor to the throne. We thus see that Mr. Der Kinderen quite missed the mark in finding anything extraordinary in the fact that the "hereditary supreme judge" of the kingdom could neither read nor write. Teuku Kali was ulèëbalang of 12 gampōngs, and shared this ignorance with many of his equals in rank, while those who are charged with administering justice according to religious law can all read and write and have most of them carried their learning much further than these rudiments.

The rule that the chief kalis of the three sagis should be appointed by the sultan speedily became a dead letter, and the practical results of the aims at centralization founded on this rule proved very trifling.

The kali rabōn jalé.The office of kali rabōn jalé also, in complete opposition to its character and object, became in the end hereditary; nay more, during the latter part of the century, the son, brother or nephew of a deceased title-bearer has succeeded the latter without even having to demand a sealed deed of appointment from the sultan. Such being the case, we may be surprised to find that this kali-ship did not deteriorate so much as that of Mr. Der Kinderen's "supreme judge".

The kal rabōn jalé of the XXII Mukims, though according to custom he acquires his office by inheritance, is as a matter of fact a man of learning. According to Achehnese custom the late kali, like his forefathers before him, was called after the gampōng he lived in, Teungku Tanòh Abèë[134]. By reason of his learning this chief esteemed himself too highly to act as a sort of acolyte of the Panglima of his sagi, and refused to appear at the call of the Panglima Pòlém. This powerful ulèëbalang was thus constrained when need arose to seek the help of teungkus of inferior qualifications[135], while his hereditary kali devoted his time to study and the instruction of his disciples.

In the XXV Mukims in like manner there flourished for a short time a tolerably learned head kali, Teungku Lam Paya[136], who died some years since. He enjoyed, at least in the later years of the sultanate, a certain precedence on official occasions, and was sometimes bidden to the Dalam, probably because he lived nearest at hand. His son, who succeeded him under the same title, is said not to be particularly learned in the law, but very ready of speech.

When the Dutch first came to Acheh, the chief kali of the XXVI Mukims was a man named Teungku Lam Gut, the grandfather on the mother's side of the present hatib (preacher) of the principal mosque at Kuta Raja. Born in Lam Gut and appointed as the successor of his father, who had some reputation for learning, he subsequently changed his abode, in consequence of his marriage, to Lam Bhuʾ close to the Dalam. Here he married his daughter to a scholar of Pidië named Chèh Marahaban, long a resident in Mecca, who was ulama and kali to the sovereign of the port[137] during the last years of the Sultanate. Teungku Lam Gut was thus able to rely in his official work on the superior knowledge of his son-in-law, for he himself though a man of sound intelligence was devoid of learning.

The principle of inheritance could not of course be applied to the kali-ship in the same degree as in the case of offices controlled by adat; still it was sometimes pushed to a great extremity. Thus it by no means rarely occurred that in the very smallest duties of his office the kali, like many a teungku meunasah,[138] had to invoke the assistance of some learned man of only second or third rank.

This is equally true of the ordinary kalis of the ulèëbalangship, who according to the intention of the centralizing ruler were supposed to be appointed by the chief kali, but as a matter of fact inherited their office as a family chattel, and were only hampered in their right of succession by the occasional interference of their ulèëbalangs. Accordingly we find side by side in all these offices functionaries without title and title-bearers without function.

We might to some extent apply to the relation of the ulèëbalang to his kali the expression which the Achehnese use to denote the mutual positions of the chief of the gampōng (keuchiʾ) and the teungku meunasah, and represent the ulèëbalang as the father and the kali as the mother of the ulèëbalangship; but with this distinction, that the position of this "mother" of a province is relatively very much lower than that of the "mother" of a village.

Administration of justice by the ulèëbalangs. Thus the administration of justice remains mainly in the hands of the ulèëbalangs. It is only however in the direst necessity that their mediation is sought, for these chiefs hold it before them as their principal aim to get as much hard cash as possible for themselves, and take but little pains with cases, however weighty, from which there is not much profit to be won. We shall now enumerate the principal matters which give rise to blood-vengeance or to sentences of the ulèëbalangs.

Vengeance for blood and blood-money. Bodily injuries, hurt or manslaughter originating in ordinary quarrels, are as a rule avenged without recourse to any authority by the injured party with the help of his kawōm or kindred. If however at the end of the mutual reprisals a considerable debit balance remains over on one side, the matter is submitted to the ulèëbalang, who in this case simply directs the payment in accordance with religious law of the diét or price of blood by the offender to the injured party. For this diét a tariff is to be found in the Moslim law-books. Where the ulèëbalang is himself unlearned, he applies for enlightenment to a kali or ulama.

Long continued petty wars only arise out of blood feuds in such cases as when a simple hurt is avenged by manslaughter, or the recognized limits overstepped in some other such way.

We have already[139] alluded to the peculiar gampōng-adat of meulangga which is employed to wash away the insult inseparable from the injury done, and which does not interfere with the debt in blood or money which accrues therefrom.

We may add that an insult offered by a person of high rank to an ordinary citizen is obliterated without recourse being had to meulangga, simply through the so-called cooling (peusijuëʾ)[140] or another form of compensation in which all ceremonies are dispensed with. Indeed it sometimes happens that an injured villager on receiving compensation at the hands say of an ulèëbalang's son who has done him an injury, actually begs the latter for forgiveness.

Injuries to those of high rank.Injuries done to persons of position by those of inferior are never atoned for without a formal request for pardon.

One of the lower orders who has committed some offence against a chief below the rank of ulèëbalang, seeks the presence of the chief with gifts, accompanied by relatives and friends who plead in his behalf. To an ulèëbalang the offender is brought wrapped up in a cloth as though he were dead or seriously ill.

Keuchiʾs or persons of higher rank who go into the presence of their ulèëbalang as penitent sinners are generally accompanied by a number of their fellows of like rank. Either the offender himself or one of his colleagues who out of friendship for him assumes the part of substitute or scapegoat, covers his head with a white cloth, and thus habited as a corpse takes his stand before the ulèëbalang's door, while his companions reiterate the cry: ampōn! ampōn!

For a long time the ulèëbalang feigns to take no notice, so that nothing may be wanting to the publicity of the affair, which he deems indispensable for the satisfaction of his honour. Finally he comes for-ward and says: "It is well", whereupon the suppliants enter the house and sit down for a short time, without however being made partakers of any hospitality.

Ulèëbalangs who desired to atone by an appeal for pardon for a sin of commission or omission against the Sultan, were generally summoned to the Dalam for this purpose. Here they received from their royal master a costly platter (dalōng) on which lay an iron chain under the usual covering (a conical plaited cover = sangè and a cloth = seuhab). This served as a gentle reminder that they must consider themselves as prisoners and not return home until they had received forgiveness. Thereupon followed a discussion as to the terms of the pardon.

Towards the ulèëbalangs of Acheh proper, however, the sultans never indulged in such highhanded methods; it was only the less important chiefs of the dependencies that would submit to such ignominy.

Where the ceremony of "cooling" takes place between two persons of equal rank, the offender asks forgiveness of the injured party who is seated opposite, and to this end rises first from his place; but if the injured one is somewhat younger or inferior in rank, he must spring quickly forward to meet the penitent so as to appear to take the initiative.

In cases of manslaughter the diët is seldom accepted, more substantial vengeance being sought for. The guilty party in such cases usually flies from the highlands to the lowlands or vice versâ, and enjoys the protection of the gampōng whose hospitality he invokes[141]. The ulèëbalang whose subject the deceased was, after having ascertained the facts, proclaims that the offender may be slain by anyone into whose hands he falls.

Where the bloodguilty party dies either a violent or a natural death, the affair is regarded as settled.

It was understood that persons guilty of manslaughter could save themselves by flying to the Dalam, but they were then regarded as chattels of the raja.

Theft.A thief is according to Achehnese law punishable with death, even if not caught red-handed[142]. In addition to the great divergence from the law of Islam in regard to the severity of the penalty, we find a further conflict with that law in the estimation of the punishment as an act of private vengeance, which only the victim of the theft or his representative has the right to exact.

If he whose goods are stolen has caught the thief red-handed and slain him, he must in accordance with the rules of evidence required by the adat, prove that the deceased has actually committed theft, as otherwise he would become involved in a blood-feud. Where the thief is not at once captured, the fact must in like manner be "proved", so as to give the aggrieved party the right to slay him without being exposed to the vengeance of his kindred.

According to the adat the only proper method of proving the crime is for the ulèëbalang to establish the fact by personal investigation at the scene of the theft, and to identify the thief, a process known to the Achehnese as peusah[143] panchuri.

In the XXVI Mukims this peusah should according to the adat be carried out only by the panglima sagi[144], and in the XXV by any ulèëbalang; in some parts of the XXII Mukims the ulèëbalang if he reside at too great a distance may be replaced by a conclave of three imeums[145].

The elders and those learned in adat are wont to enumerate four sorts of testimony, which whether taken alone or in conjunction give the right to regard the accused as a thief. The Achehnese have a great preference for the number four. They are also fond of employing in the discussion of adat-subjects terms which no one fully understands, and in regard to which every successive speaker can thus exhibit greater wisdom than his predecessor. These four traditional forms of proof are as follows:

1°. yad (Arab. properly = "hand") i.e. that the suspected party has been seen lurking in the neighbourhood of the house of him whose goods have been stolen; 2°. kinayat (Arab. = "covered or metaphorical proof") i.e. that he has been seen to enter the house; 3°. peunyabét (from Arab. thābit = established, "that which establishes a fact") i. e. that he has been seen holding or touching the stolen object; and 4°. haleuë meuë (properly ḥalāl = "permitted" and māl = "goods, object of possession") i.e. that he has been discovered with the stolen object in his possession.

Other kinds of evidence are mentioned, but these are all equally remote from the original as well as the technical sense of the Arabic words; and these words themselves do not appear in any such connection in the Mohammedan law, with the exception of yad, which means actual possession.

In practice however they do not confine themselves to these rather more than vague rules. The peusah generally rests on the ground that the body of the slain thief has been found lying close to or in the neighbourhood of the stolen object, which token (tanda) is still further strengthened by traces of housebreaking. It may also be supported by the fact that the thing stolen is found in the possession of another (the receiver) to whom compensation is paid on the condition that he points out the thief; or again, the fact that it is found in the gampōng and that various circumstances point to a particular person as the thief who has escaped pursuit.

In order to give some idea of the peculiar adats among the Achehnese in criminal cases, which are characterized no less than their family life by set speeches and dramatic display, we append an example of the peusah panchuri in a case in which the thief has been killed on the spot. The attendant circumstances are imaginary, but most of the formulae are invariable.

The body of the thief, with the objects which serve as testimony, are left undisturbed till the ulèëbalang[146], who is notified as soon as possible, appears in the gampōng attended by some imeums and keuchiʾs.

These authorities seat themselves over against the slayer of the thief, and the people of the gampōng crowd around on all sides. The slayer is usually represented by a speechmaker of the gampōng, but he may of course speak for himself if he wish. Standing up in his place he delivers himself on this wise:

"I beg forgiveness of you all, oh Teungkus[147], ye that are my kings, for the reason for which I stand here, oh Teuku ampōn, is threefold.

"The first reason is, that I desire to pay homage to you, oh Teukus, who are my kings. The second reason is, oh Teuku ampōn, that I wish to relate to you that which has befallen me. The third reason is, oh Teuku ampōn, that I have to inform you as follows. During the past night, Friday the 15th of Mòʾlōt, I was sleeping in the meunasah. At about midnight, as well as I could guess, I was startled and awaked from sleep with a feeling of uneasiness. I took my weapons, a sikin, a reunchōng and a spear, and went back into the gampōng[148], for I keep a beast there.

"So then, oh Teuku ampōn, having come into the gampōng, I took some buffalo fodder and laid it in the manger. Then I saw that the beast did not approach. I felt for the rope; there was no rope to be found. Then I approached the door of the stall and found it standing open. Then I wandered hither and thither till I came upon a man leading a buffalo in a place which is only separated from my house by a single garden.

"Thereupon, oh Teuku ampōn, I cried out, who is that leading a buffalo? but he answered not. Then I drew my sikin and called help! help! He took his stand against me, I smote at him and there lay the leader of the buffalo dead!

"As to the buffalo, oh Teuku ampōn, it is my property. For the rest, as concerns the man, if the Supreme God so will, it shall be as ye, oh Teukus who are my kings, shall be pleased to decide. What name shall we call this dead man by?[149]

"Thus much only have I to say."

After the hearing of this or a similar story, the ulèëbalang says to those present:

"What is your opinion, Teukus, in regard to what this man (or this master) has related?"

A chorus of the villagers here interrupts:

"That is clear enough, it may at once be answered, oh Teuku!"

The ulèëbalang however transfers this task to his proxy speaker, one of the elders, and says to the latter, "let answer be made."

"How am I to answer?" he enquires.

"What means this 'how,' is it not clear enough?" pursues the ulèëbalang.

After this authorization the elder speaks thus:

"Good then, as to what this man has related, how stands it? Know ye that are here (this to the next of kin, neighbours etc. of the slayer) aught of it? Tell us what ye know."

The answer, given more or less in chorus, runs thus: It is established, even as this man has related it, oh Teuku ampōn, so is the knowledge of all of us."

The ulèëbalang to the elder: "well, if that be so, then is this fellow (the deceased) buffalo-flesh, it is permitted us to eat it!"

The elder: "This fellow is even as the flesh of buffaloes, it is permitted us to eat it! Let us cry aloud now all together, the name of this fellow is thief! Cry with one voice, let us kill the thief dead!"

These last words are loudly repeated by all present, and thus the case is concluded. It might be almost expected that at this last cry a simultaneous attack would be made upon the body of the thief, but now-a-days at least this does not take place.

Not till the conclusion of this ceremony can the thief be buried. Before the formal peusah the body may be moved to the extent of dragging it a few paces along the ground, but to raise it entirely from the earth would according to the adat have the effect of making the sentence impossible.

It is obvious that proofs such as those we have enumerated are not always forthcoming in all the numerous cases of theft in Acheh and especially in the highland districts, yet the adat with its peculiar rules of evidence demands "tanda" or tokens, and it is an established rule that where such tokens are wanting, no crime can be taken to be proved. On the other hand it often happens that all are morally convinced that a certain person is in the habit of stealing or has done so in a particular instance, without their being able with the best will in the world to adduce the requisite proofs.

It may for example be safely asserted, in view of the habits of life of the Achehnese, that any one who after nine o'clock in the evening is found lurking in a strange gampōng where no festival is being held, has come there with criminal intent, and generally with the object of committing theft.

In such cases there prevails a custom, not indeed theoretically recognized, but in fact commonly practised, of artificially supplying the necessary tandas or proofs after the evildoer has been put to death.

The slayer for instance breaks a piece out of the wall of his house, and places a chest which he has himself taken out of his house near the body, or ties his buffalo to the leg of the slain man, so as to give the appearance of his having met him leading the animal away.

Though all who attend at the verification (peusah) are well aware of the true origin of the evidence, they lend their support before the ulèëbalang (who is often as much in the secret as themselves) to a solemnly paraded fictitious story of the theft, and the declaration "This fellow is as the flesh of buffaloes, it is permitted us to eat it" sets the slayer free from all guilt.

Nay more, this facile method of peusah panchuri is frequently resorted to even when there is no question of theft. Suppose for instance that a man has detected his daughter, who is unmarried or whose husband is away, in the act of illicit intercourse, and has slain her lover. According to Achehnese adat he would now be exposed to blood-vengeance unless he had also killed his daughter, and if he admitted the true nature of the case, he would subject her to the penalty of death by strangling and drowning combined (cheukiëʾ) by command of the ulèëbalang. For a moderate consideration, however, the latter may be induced to recognize as true the "tokens" of theft brought forward to suit the case of the homicide, accompanied by a story that harmonizes with the circumstances, and which is upheld by the unanimous voice of the fellow-villagers of the slayer, who are not likely to leave their comrade in the lurch.

Even ordinary murders attributable to no such circumstances as the above, but merely to hatred and the desire for revenge, are sometimes settled by the peusah panchuri through the venal connivance of the ulèëbalang.

For the tracing of the criminal in case of a theft established by proofs, various methods are furnished by the adat; and these, while especially applicable in case of theft, are also employed in detecting those guilty of other crimes.

When strong suspicion rests on a particular individual, and it is desired to extort confession, recourse is had to the method called wéng or sréng baʾ pha siblaïh. This consists in fastening a strip of rottan round the thigh of the suspect, and tightening it by twisting the ends together while the interrogation proceeds. Various other similar tortures are also employed.

When a thief chances to be captured instead of slain, his relatives are given opportunity of ransoming him. In theory the blood-price or diët has to be paid in such cases, but in practice a sum proportioned to the resources of the family is accepted. Such ransoms are especially customary in the highlands, where theft is very common. Elsewhere, for instance in the XXV Mukims, thieves are more usually put to death on the spot.

Ordeals.The following methods serve to identify the thief from among a number of persons one of whom is believed to be the guilty party.

Peutasaʾ or peuklòʾ minyeuʾ ("the boiling of oil" or "the plunging (the hands) into oil") is an ordeal requiring for its success that he who boils the oil should be able to do so in the proper manner and should know by heart the necessary incantations. Then the hand of the guilty person and none other will be scalded.

In like manner pumuëʾ breuëh ("bolting of raw rice") has the desired result only when the requisite incantations are uttered over the rice. Then it is the guilty one alone that fails to swallow the rice.

Another ordeal is teumanòm ("burying something"). The ulèëbalang calls together all the suspected persons into the meunasah, and gives them three days time to restore the stolen object secretly to its owner. Should this not be done they must again assemble. Then some person skilled in magic art "enchants" a kundur-fruit (bòh kundō), and this is buried where the main road enters the gampōng. The result is that the stomach of the guilty party quickly swells up or bursts.

Peuliëh beusòë ("licking the hot iron") is also in use. This kind of ordeal is even expressly recognized in the so-called edict of Shamsul-alam[150].

A simpler plan, but one less effective than these ordeals, is the summoning of all the suspects into the meunasah, where the teungku causes them one by one to swear a solemn oath of exculpation[151]. The usefulness of ordeals of course lies in the belief which the majority of the people have in them. Where they are made ready with the requisite circumstance and solemnity, the guilty party often confesses at once, before recourse is had to the actual trial, and even if this be not so, the demeanour of the criminal at the commencement of the ordeal generally proclaims his guilt.

Knowing this, some ulèëbalangs have been wont to invite the attendance on such occasions of a teungku from some distant place, distinguished by a great beard or some other such impressive characteristic; this startling apparition has often resulted in confession.

In cases of petty theft it is not unusual for the thief to be kept imprisoned for some days in or near the residence of the ulèëbalang. Before being released he has to promise under oath never to steal again.

Illicit intercourse.Next to theft illicit intercourse (Arab. zina, Ach. dina) claims our attention.

The punishments imposed by Mohammedan law for this offence (sexual intercourse between two persons not in the mutual relation of man and wife or master and slave) differ in proportion as the guilty parties may or may not have at some time in their lives had sexual intercourse in a lawful marriage. If so the punishment is stoning to death, if not, 100 stripes with the lash, followed (according to the Shafiite school) by banishment for at least one year.

The application of this law is extremely rare in Acheh, although its provisions are pretty generally known. This is undoubtedly due to some extent to the great difficulty of proving illicit intercourse according to the requirements of the Mohammedan law of evidence; it is not permissible to apply a punishment ordained of Allah to a crime which, clear though it be to human insight, is insufficiently proved in accordance with the rules of evidence prescribed by Allah's law.

In has happened in some few cases that some influential supporter of religious law has endeavoured to make an example by applying it in all its rigour to this sin so universally prevalent in Acheh. This was done for instance by Habib Abdurrahman, and the news spread throughout the whole country that a couple had indeed been stoned for illicit intercourse. When however some ulèëbalang conceives the same idea, there is generally found something lacking both in the proofs which the law requires and in the complete execution of the punishment.

As a matter of fact dina is the order of the day in Acheh, whilst its punishment is of exceptional occurrence unless where the injured husband takes active measures. Many chiefs carry on intrigues with the daughters of men of lower degree, and are generally able to nullify or prevent the visible consequences. The same is done by persons who hold forbidden intercourse with women of their own standing (generally balèë i. e. widows or divorced women). Dina with married women is also far from uncommon.

There are two different sorts of punishment for this offence, whenever any cognisance is taken of it.

1°. Wreaking of vengeance by the injured party (the husband, father,brother or other near relative of the party concerned), sometimesfollowed by a further punishment at the order of the ulèëbalang, if the injured party has only half finished his task according to the requirements of the adat.

The injured party may for instance slay the violater of the honour of his house on the spot, or elsewhere afterwards, if he can prove by a tanda (such as a garment of the offender who at first escaped him) that the deed has actually been perpetrated. If however he does not also slay the guilty woman (she being his wife or his blood-relation) he exposes himself to blood-vengeance, unless the other party chooses to refer the matter to the ulèëbalang and the latter lets the adat-penalty of cheukiëʾ be executed on the woman. This is done by taking the guilty woman to the bank of a river where she is laid on her back and held down under water; a bamboo is at the same time placed athwart across her throat, and on either end of this a rakan, or follower of the ulèëbalang, stands so as to throttle her.

As a rule however her family forestalls this public scandal; she is secretly put out of the way by one of her own relations, though not before her lover has preceded her to the next world.

It is to be noted that it very rarely occurs, and then only by mistake that the injured party slays the woman (his own wife or blood-relation) while letting the man escape and yet retaining some article belonging to the latter as evidence. To fulfil the demands of morality in such cases there was in ancient times a custom, described by Van Langen in his Achehnese Dictionary, p. 35, but known to the present generation by tradition only, so long has it been discontinued. This custom was as follows: the escaped offender was dressed in the peculiar garments assigned by tradition to those guilty of manslaughter, and placed in the midst of a square, one side of which was formed by his own blood-relations, and the other three by those of the slain woman and her husband. He had then to cleave a piece of wood, after which the injured side had the right to chase and kill him, unless he succeeded in escaping to the line occupied by his kinsfolk. In that case he was exposed to no further persecution. But as we have said, such a state of things rarely occurs and this method of dealing with the offender has now fallen entirely into disuse.


This dress consisted of the beungkōng mentioned by Van Langen (a cloth wrapped round the body in a peculiar way), an iron pajèë or jacket, and a set of weapons (sikin and reunchōng) the handles of which were furnished with no horizontal hilts for the hand to grasp. These were called alat sigeupòh = the weapons of one condemned to death. The general meaning of sigeupòh is one who is doomed either as bila gòb, or as an outlawed thief or by the sentence of a judge. For a considerable time weapons of this pattern became fashionable and were those most commonly used in Acheh. It may be seen from what has been just said, that illicit intercourse is usually treated in Acheh as a private rather than a public breach of law and order.

2°. The ulèëbalangs are quite ready to punish the offence of dina, even when no one has complained of it, provided no disagreeable consequences result to themselves or their friends. Here again their action is dictated not so much by a wish to maintain law, order and morality as to enlarge the profits of their privy purse.

Occasion for such interference especially arises when the pregnancy of an unmarried woman (the most unequivocal tanda of all) becomes publicly known. The causer of the pregnancy is traced down and the guilty parties reminded by the ulèëbalang that they are really liable to the penalty of death (by suffocation and drowning), but at the same time given to understand that the affair can be settled by payment of a certain fine, provided that the tanda disappears. The fine is generally paid and abortion procured at the command of the ulèëbalang, or else the latter (and this often happens) compels the guilty parties fo wed one another.

Artificial abortion is of the commonest occurrence in Acheh, both in and out of wedlock, and is especially resorted to in order to destroy that tanda of illicit intercourse which is the foremost means of proof prescribed by the adat.

Even where the guilty parties are unable to pay the fine, the ulèëbalang seldom exacts the extreme penalty of the law. He prefers to punish them by incorporating them among his followers as servants without pay (ureuëng salah), a step which is often accompanied by a compulsory marriage between the parties.

The rakans, or followers of the ulèëbalang, sometimes try to catch couples in forbidden amours, in order to hale them before the ulèëbalang, who squeezes them to the limit of their paying capacity by threats of other punishments. Nay, reliable witnesses declare that in the highlands especially, the rakans of the chiefs, in order to increase these fines (a share of which they receive for their trouble) have women in their service who make it their business to entrap men into quite innocent conversations in lonesome places. The woman can easily get the man to sit down by her for a moment, a thing quite feasible owing to the comparative freedom of intercourse between the sexes in Acheh. Then the rakans rush up to them, tear off a portion of the clothing of both man and woman and set this aside as "tanda." Where this is confirmed by the woman's "admission" that she has had prohibited intercourse with the accused, it becomes easy for the ulèëbalang to extort a fine from the victim of the trick.

Adat-punishments.In the case of those who are entirely without means, the adat is sometimes made to appear to have as its sole purpose the punishment of immorality. The following are among the punishments inflicted; fifty or more strokes of the lash inflicted by the rakans of the ulèëbalang, in the presence of a crowd of the fellow-villagers of the accused; holding up to public gaze for a few moments by suspension from a tree by a rope passed under the arms; exposure for a whole day to the sun; being tied up for a whole night in a place swarming with mosquitos or close to a nest of red ants etc.

There are no definite adat-rules in regard to all these punishments. They are applied at the whim of the ulèëbalang not only in the case of illicit intercourse but also of other favourite sins of the Achehnese, whether some sacred occasion or place has been thereby extraordinarily polluted, or where the offence has been perpetrated with outrageous shamelessness, or by persons who are specially obnoxious to the chiefs or whose misdeeds they do not feel bound to overlook.

For ill-treatment of women an adat punishment now little in vogue was formerly resorted to. The offender was set on a cow-buffalo and led round followed by a hooting and jeering crowd. The late chief of Lhōʾ-Kruët on the West Coast used to apply this punishment to all sorts of other offences, not excluding dina[152].

Imprisonment, generally in chains, serves less as a punishment than to accelerate the payment of a heavy fine, or to detain the prisoner for further enquiry when it is feared that he might otherwise make good his escape.

All acts are rigorously punished which in the opinion of ulèëbalangs or other chiefs amount to a slight upon the honour or dignity of themselves, the members of their families or their friends. Those who are without means are put to death for such offences, while others are heavily fined.

Laggéh umòng.To ensure the payment of the fines in such cases a peculiar method of compulsion is employed, called langgéh umòng or the "excommunication of the rice-fields." The ulèëbalang causes a stake to be fixed in the rice-field of the guilty party, with the white spathe of a young cocoanut palm fixed to its upper end. From that time forth it is forbidden the owner to till his rice-field until the ulèëbalang is pleased to remove this token.

Such removal, however, does not take place until the case is settled, i.e. until the owner as it were redeems his right of possession by a money offering. Where he is unable or disinclined to do this, the excommunication lasts sometimes for years. The ulèëbalang proceeds gradually to have the field tilled by his servants or (as a sort of feudal service) by his subjects, or else by private contract in consideration of ½, the nett produce (mawaïh). After some years it passes irretrievably into his possession.

This langgéh umòng takes place when the offender has been guilty of striking (be it even on strong provocation) a member of the ulèëbalang's family, or lost a weapon entrusted by the chief to his charge or the like. Wilful provocation is often given in order to increase the cases of confiscation and more than one of the ulèëbalangs has the name of being "very clever in annexing rice-fields."

With the daily life of the gampōng in the narrower sense of the words the ulèëbalang has little to do. Even the meulangga described above (pp. 77 et seq.) is carried out without his intervention. He must however be consulted in certain cases of change of residence and of alienation of rice-fields.

Change of residence.Changes of residence are opposed as much as possible by the heads of the gampōng, and as good as forbidden in the case of females. For changes of abode on grounds recognized by the adat, e. g. in order to exercise personal supervision over a part of the paternal inheritance situated elsewhere, permission is required from the keuchiʾs both of the gampōng vacated and of that where it is intended to reside.

Where however the cause of the removal lies in the fact that the would-be emigrant has always lived on bad terms with his fellow-villagers, his rice-field in his former gampōng remains his own property, but he is not permitted to take his house with him; this is confiscated by the ulèëbalang.

We should rather have said "her house," because in the division of inheritances houses are as far as possible assigned to female heirs. The father of the family can hardly be said to "change his residence," since he either lives in the house of his wife or occupies a temporary lodging.

Sale of lands.Sale of rice-fields, sugarcane gardens or court yards[153] cannot take place before the owners of the lands bounding those that are for sale have waived their privilege of buying in the immovable property in question for the price offered by the would-be purchaser.

Both sale and mortgage of real property are executed with some ceremony in presence of the authorities of the gampōng, and also, where possible, of a large number of witnesses. On such occasions certain formalities of the Mohammedan law are also observed[154], 1%, or over of the value of every rice-field sold must be paid to the ulèëbalang.

Suits to recover debts.Suits for the recovery of debts are submitted to the ulèëbalang when all other means of settlement are found to be fruitless. The chief requires both parties to deposit a sum equal to that in dispute. This deposit is called haʾ ganchéng, lit. = means of including or binding. This the Achehnese regard as a tanda jih maté lam jaròë hakim = a token or pledge that the suitor hands himself over as a dead body into the hands of the judge to deal with as he will. After the decree of the ulèëbalang has been carried out, he restores the haʾ ganchéng, but deducts from the debt settled by his intervention a portion (sometimes amounting to from one-half to one-third of the whole), by way of recompense for his trouble.

Sources of revenue of the ulèëbalangs.So far we have sketched the functions of the ulèëbalang as military leader, administrator and judge; we shall now add, partly by way of recapitulation, and partly to complete the picture, a resumé of the principal revenues and profits arising from the office.

a. The three chief ulèëbalangs or panglima sagi used to receive a present from the sultan on the latter's accession to the throne. This "wedding gift" (jinamèë) has in later times amounted to $ 500, but against this it became later the established rule for a newly constituted panglima sagi to pay at least an equal sum to the sultan for the letters patent by which he confirms his appointment. These three chiefs also received gifts in money from the sultan on the occasion of some of the important events of their family life.

b. Fines imposed on his subjects for sundry offences or illegal omissions. Under this head we may especially mention the confiscations of rice-fields.

c. Fees for the peusah panchuri (verification of thieves), sometimes paid even though there is no question of theft, and various other profits which are the fruit of venality.

d. In some districts, one or more per cent of the value of rice-fields sold under supervision of the ulèëbalang. Where the sale takes place without his interference, these profits fall to the imeums or to the teungkus and keuchiʾs, while all witnesses of the sale are treated to a feast by the vendor.

e. 10%, of all inheritances distributed by the intervention of the ulèëbalang (haʾ praʾé), a small share being reserved for the teungku or kali who prepares the accounts and for the keuchiʾ of the gampōng.

f. A share of all fish caught by means of drag-nets (pukat) wherever such fisheries exist within the jurisdiction of the ulèëbalang.

g. Where there are navigable rivers, wasé kuala, a toll of 1 dollar (according to some originally samaïh = ¼, dollar, or a certain quantity of husked rice) on every vessel that sails up the river, 5%, on all goods imported by foreigners, and 2 to 2½%, on those imported by natives of the country.

h. A portion, often very considerable, of the debts recovered by the ulèëbalang's help.

i. The adat peukan or market tax, levied by the rakans of the ulèëbalang (on the East Coast by separate officials known as haria) on the frequenters of all, markets.

j. Houses declared forfeit by reason of change of residence on the part of the owners owing to continual quarrels with their fellow-villagers.

k. Untenanted rice-fields or gardens whose owners have long since left the neighbourhood and have not since been heard of; also the heritages of strangers who have formed no household in Acheh and of natives of the country who have died without leaving any lawful heirs.

l. Contributions (almost compulsory in character) of imeums, panglimas, keuchiʾs etc. to defray the expenses of important family festivals of the uléébalangs and their relations.

m. The services of those who are embodied in the following of the ulèëbalang either by way of punishment for offences committed, or on account of their inability to pay the fines imposed upon them.

n. Unremunerated services required of their subjects by influential ulèëbalangs for the construction of their houses and strongholds or the tilling of their rice-fields.

Besides the above, the ulèëbalangs lay claim to a number of other sources of profit which vary with the locality, such as imposts on the sale of firewood, bricks, cocoanuts, cocoanut oil etc., a share of all jungle-produce or plants sawn in the forests, gifts of the rice or fruits that first ripen, a portion of all cattle slaughtered, fees for the right to collect turtles’ eggs, a share of the profits of gambling, a portion of the pitrah and jakeuët etc. The ulèëbalang is also paid for the certificates required for the issue of ordinary passports and those for the haj. Where pepper is grown, the chief gets so much a pikul as wasé.

As we have already seen, a portion of the administration of justice is taken out of the hands of the ulèëbalangs by the imeums and keuchiʾs by the way of amicable settlement. It is only however by like amicable means that the latter officials can obtain payment of their dues. They dare not for instance apply the punishment of cheukiëʾ or other adat-penalties or fines, or excommunicate rice-fields, or identify thieves, or exact a deposit of haʾ ganchéng in dealing with suits to recover debts, or embody men among their followers etc. At any rate, imeums who venture on such measures have already reached the rank of independent ulèëbalangs.

Attitude of subject to chief.The Achehnese has been accustomed for centuries to a considerable degree of independence in the management of his own affairs. He pays but little heed to the ulèëbalang or other authorities in matters appertaining to his family and gampōng, and is wont to show a certain impatience of control more akin to license than to servility. Yet he approaches the representatives of territorial authority with deep submission. The ordinary man of humble rank makes his seumbah (the habitual native greeting) at their feet or knees or, if at a distance, by placing his hands on his head with the words seumbah ulōn tuan = "your servant's respectful greeting"[155]. If the ulèëbalang wishes to be very polite, he replies seumbah keu pòteu Alah = "respectful greetings are for our Lord God"; or where the reverence consists only in an obeisance made at his feet or knees, by receiving this as it were with his hands (sambōt). Many however take no notice at all of the seumbah of their dependants.

The Achehnese are, comparatively speaking, among the least well-mannered of the inhabitants of the Archipelago, yet in their behaviour towards their chiefs they pay regard to sundry formalities. If a man be sitting on the roadside as the ulèëbalang and his retinue pass by and omits to ask meuʾah or forgiveness for his presence, he may feel sure at the least of a beating from the rakans by way of correction. Both the chiefs and all the members of their retinue are as a rule very free with such sharp admonitions towards persons of low degree. The ordinary Achehnese, who is prone at the smallest insult to draw his reunchōng or sikin on his equals, shows no rancour against ill-treatment on the part of the ulèëbalang and his folk or even the imeum. He fears them, and it is his natural impulse to bow to superior power alone, but to this he submits unconditionally.

Impossible as it is for the ulèëbalangs to exercise despotic power, they loom before the individual as irresistible forces, even though he has the support of his kawōm to rely upon. The ulèëbalang has a powerful and numerous kawōm united to him through interest and otherwise; he has also his various rakans, who, though taken as a whole they would not be likely to make an imposing impression on a European, constitute a formidable force in the eyes of each kawōm and gampōng.

Every real or supposed shortcoming on the part of their subjects is heavily punished by these chiefs; but who can help the former to obtain justice against an ulèëbalang? They have only to hope for his mercy, and as a rule he inspires mistrust rather than hope. It is only when he can shelter himself among the ranks of some rival leader that the Achehnese will put himself in opposition to a chief[156].

§ 8. The Rajas (Sultans) of Acheh.

The rajas (Sultans) of Acheh.Our description of the political system of the Achehnese has made it apparent that the "Sultan of Acheh" is far from being an indispensable element therein. Yet so far back as the sources of history extend, Acheh has always had her kings. In the official (Malay) documents the king is called sultan. The Achehnese, however, term him raja Acheh and also call him pòten (= "our lord") in the third person, and in the second harab meulia, sometimes pronounced haram lia (lit. "may splendour be thy portion"; but the expression has obtained the force of a title and is used to signify "Your Majesty"). The affirmative answer to a question, command or remark of the sultan is dèëlat[157] (i. e. daulat, prosperity or happiness).

In the introduction we have already learned in a general way the true significance of these port-kings in the history of the country of which they are the nominal rulers. There is nothing to justify us in regarding the condition of misrule in which we find the country as the ruins of a past well-ordered government. Even the demands made on the ulèëbalangs by the port-kings in the most flourishing period of their rule, the second half of the 16th and first half of the 17th century were extremely moderate and bear witness partly to the want of power on the part of these princes to control the government of the interior and partly to the small interest they seem to have taken in any such interference. Even the edicts ascribed by general consensus to Meukuta Alam (1607–36) confine themselves within very narrow limits, although that prince had at his command a considerable fleet and a small standing army. Besides, these documents are not evidence of a state of things that ever actually existed, but simply the expression of the wishes of the king and his councillors as to what they would see carried out. It was enough for the successive Sultans to have immunity from annoyance at the hands of the numerous potentates of the interior, and this object they easily gained by the means that lay beneath their hand.

The actual domain of the Sultan.The portion of the lowlands which they governed directly as their actual domain was not very extensive[158], and even this small territory was in a great measure withdrawn from their direct control in the period of their decline. Some few gampōngs, peopled for the most part by strangers or servants or slaves of the sultan, remained subject to the private lordship of the rajas, but the major portion of the territory adjoining the Dalam, about 24 gampōngs in all, was administered by a Panglima as an appurtenance of the principal mosque (Meuseugit Raya). The office of Panglima Meuseugit Raya was hereditary, and thus soon came to be distinguished from an ordinary ulèëbalangship only through the name and proximity of the Dalam.

The ambitious efforts of Teuku Kali Malikōn Adé towards the acquisition of a territory which would make him an ulèëbalang in the full sense of the word, were crowned with success at a favourable moment, and he wrested from the weak Panglima Meuseugit Raya the half of his territory, twelve gampongs on the right bank of the Acheh river.

How little these two ulèëbalangs can be recognized as simply servants of the sultan, may be judged from the fact that they occasionally made war on one another. The sultan helped first one and then the other with money and munitions of war, and his followers were to be found in both the rival camps. When a dispute arose as to the succession to the throne the Panglima Meuseugit Raya and the Teuku Kali Malikōn Adé usually espoused opposite sides.

Besides this special territory of the sultans, which quickly dwindled to such slender proportions, Achehnese tradition notices an important means adopted by the earlier sultans for strengthening their internal authority, namely the institution of wakeuëh lands[159].

Wakeuëh lands.Wakeuëh (wakap in Javanese, Malay and Sundanese) is the Arabic waqf. This last word signifies property withdrawn in perpetuity by its owner from all alienation, and devoted to some object permitted by the Moslim law. Wakeuëh is known to the Achehnese also in this sense; they use it especially to denote things the use or proceeds of which are devoted by the original owners to the purposes of a mosque, as for example gardens, the furniture of a chapel etc. Rice-fields which are made waqf for the benefit of a mosque are however usually described by another term, sara[160] and are spoken of as umòng sara or umòng sara meuseugit or meusara meuseugit.

But wakeuëh is much better known in the sense of a territory or a piece of land which has been placed in a peculiar legal position by the sultans. What this position originally was cannot now be easily traced, as the institution has entirely degenerated. From the information given by the Achehnese we might conclude that wakeuëh lands were those the usufruct of which the sultans had presented to some one or other of their favourites after duly compensating the owners. The epithet is also applied to the strip of ground seven great fathoms (deupa meunara) on each side of the Acheh river, reserved from ancient times to the sultan. Subjects might build or plant within this reserve but the land never became their property, and the sultans could always withdraw the right of user. This royal privilege no doubt originated in the interest of an unimpeded exercise of their sovereignty by the kings of the port. The name tanòh raja is indeed more commonly used than wakeuëh to describe this reservation. Then again we find this latter word applied to the inhabitants[161] of a certain district who have been relieved from sundry burdens and duties exacted from the rest, and exempted from the authority of the local chiefs, a condition which we find elsewhere described by the term bibeuëh[162].

Another explanation given for this word assigns to it a purely political meaning. According to this one of the early sultans succeeded in getting the ruling chiefs both in Acheh proper and the various dependencies to consent to a certain portion of their territories (usually 3 mukims) being severed from their control. The chief or chiefs of these smaller districts were thus brought directly under the sultan's rule and withdrawn from that of the ulèëbalangs.

It is said that the inhabitants of some of these wakeuëh-districts were bound to render certain services to the sultan on particular occasions. At the same time there is clear evidence that the institution of wakeuëh-districts was not due to the sultan's requiring labourers or servants. Their object was to possess within the sphere of each powerful ulèëbalang a territory of their own on which they could rely to give support to their efforts at centralization.

The inhabitants of such a district were required to refrain from taking any part in the incessant quarrels between great and small ulèëbalangs, to stand without and above parties, and to maintain a neutral field of observation and operation for their superior lord, who could appoint as chiefs of these districts persons in whom he reposed the greatest confidence. The word wakeuëh in the Achehnese vernacular represents more than one of the ideas just alluded to. That some truth lurks in the last mentioned political explanation may be gathered from certain features of the condition of the country as the Dutch found it at the commencement of the Achehnese war.

The district of the "III Mukims" par excellence[163], generally called Mukim Lhèë, and now officially known as the III Mukims Keureukōn, belonged to none of the three sagi of Acheh. Both the sagi of the XXVI and that of the XXII Mukims claimed that this district originally belonged to them, but both allowed that it had for a long time past been withdrawn from all connection with their Panglimas. The people of the "Mukims Three" were also well aware of this, though they acknowledged that they were ureuëng Tunòng, thus admitting the correctness of the assertion of the sagi of the XXII Mukims.

In the wars between the two above-named sagi, the Mukims III took part with neither side. The people of the latter thus removed the corpses of the slain for both parties, and permitted no fighting to be carried On within their own territory.

The only instance of the administration of these Mukims by a single ruler within living memory is that of a certain ulama named Teungku Chòt Putu, who succeeded in attaining to some degree of authority there in the middle of the present century. This expounder of the law derived from his piety, learning and severity such an overwhelming influence over the three imeums and their subjects, that although not invested with any political power, he acted in fact as ruler of the Mukim Lhèë. Before his appearance and after his death these mukims were self-governing, yet held in due respect the tradition of their peculiar constitution. His son Chèh Chòt Putu, though essentially a worldly man and no scholar, inherited some of the respect paid to his father, but his efforts at playing the role of ulèëbalang of the III Mukims have not been crowned with success.

The name of III Mukims Keureukōn now usually given to that district, coupled with the fact that a family resided therein, one male member of which enjoyed the hereditary title of Teuku Keureukōn, points to the efforts made by the holders of that dignity to gain the supremacy there. Here we have another example of that same degeneration of offices in Acheh, which we have seen above[164] in the case of the Teuku Kali Malikōn Adé etc.

Among the principal court officials in the period of prosperity of the sultanate there was a royal secretary with the title Keureukōn Katibulmuluk[165] (vulg. "Katibōy mulut"). This title could more easily pass from father to son than the art of composing and writing Malay letters; and besides, the importance and extent of such correspondence dwindled with the decay of the court.

The work performed in earlier times by the Keureukon Katibōy Mulut, in so far as it did not altogether fall into abeyance, was carried on by common servitors of no rank, who were called Krani Pòteu or "writers to our supreme lord." As however all official documents have even down to the present day been modelled on the pattern of those of the prosperous period, there were and still are often to be found at the beginning of letters and edicts of the sultans of Acheh the words: "His Majesty ordered this to be written by the Keureukōn katibulmuluk[166]."

We have here thus another example of an hereditary title-bearer who became an ulèëbalang pòteu without work or fixed income and without territory. Since the establishment of one of their number in the Mukim Lhèë, the Keureukōns have been among those whose influence was a factor to be reckoned with in that wakeuëh-district, although they have never come to be recognized as its chiefs.

Three of the XXVI Mukims were in like manner free from the control of the Panglima Sagi[167]; and though it cannot be said that the sultans held supreme control there in more recent times, it still seems probable that this district also was made wakeuëh originally with the intention just indicated.

The mukims Luëng Bata, Pagarayé[168] and Lam Sayun are regarded as properly belonging to the XXV Mukims, yet this trio seems also to have been formerly wakeuëh. Within the memory of man however, the only trace of such a status has been the independence of the chiefs of these mukims. The influential and powerful imeum of Luëng Bata was indeed on many occasions the adviser and ally of the sultan, but this very relation made it necessary for the latter to hold this chief in great respect and treat him with marked distinction.

We must thus regard these wakeuëh-districts of 3 mukims as being merely the relics of earlier conditions; the period during which they served to advance the political aims of the sultans was in any case of very short duration.

Similar survivals of wakeuëh districts of this description are to be found in Pidië and some other dependencies, but their chiefs have long been free from the control of the sultans.

It is said that there were on some of the islands (Pulò Wè for example) wakeuëh lands of a different class, reserved by the sultans with the view of appropriating their produce.

Maintenance of the court.Of the remaining methods resorted to by the sultans for the maintenance of their authority, we have already made mention of several in the course of our description of the system of government in Acheh. The edicts quoted above (see p. 5), dealing with the ceremonial observed at court on all solemn occasions, have given an exaggerated impression of the importance of the port-kings, which has been still further corroborated by the reports of European travellers who saw them at the zenith of their prosperity. In these edicts are set forth the names, relative rank and high-sounding titles of a considerable number of court dignitaries. In some cases they also mention the duties which these officials had to perform, though it is impossible in many instances even to guess at the true significance of the offices they held. There is no doubt that many of them served simply to enhance the glitter of the court. These gradually disappeared, leaving no trace behind, when the kingdom and the power of the sultans dwindled away, and the latter were forced to share with others even that little that was left them. Some again underwent the change we have so often referred to; their titles became hereditary, and they found means on the one hand to have allotted to themselves a portion of the revenues of the port-town, and on the other to seize some favourable opportunity of changing from ulèëbalang pòteu into ulèëbalangs with a territory of their own.

Efforts of the courtiers to attain the ulèëbalangship.To the examples of Teuku Kali Malikon Adé[169] and Teuku Keureukōn[170] quoted above in illustration of this revival of offices, we may now add one or two others.

Teuku Nanta Seutia was originally an "ulèëbalang of our supreme lord," with which hereditary rank he was invested for exceptional services to one of the princes. Such a rank carried with it no more than dignity and claim to respect, but it made its holders unwished-for guests in the ulèëbalangship where they established themselves. Here they were of course free from all control (bibeuëh) and in a position to make inroads on the rights of others. Nanta Seutia succeeded in detaching the VI Mukims from the control of Teuku Nèʾ, chief of the great mukim of Meuraʾsa, and the protests of the latter reiterated down to the present day have been of no avail against this secession. [In 1896 the Nanta family having taken a prominent part in the treachery of Teuku Uma against the Dutch, the Nèʾ family was restored to power. When the Nantas were expelled, the Dutch Government appointed as Chief Teuku Raja Itam, a son of the Teuku Nèʾ who was ulèëbalang of Meuraʾsa at the beginning of the Dutch operations in Acheh].

A teacher of celebrity, Teungku Hamba Alah whose tomb in the mukim of Silang is still revered as a holy place, exercised during his life a powerful influence on the people of the XXVI Mukims. The panglima of that sagi, whether from respect for his learning or in order to neutralize his influence, made over to him the government of thirteen of his mukims and let him enforce Allah's law there to his heart's content. Circumstances favoured the efforts of his descendants to retain this control, and thus the hereditary ulèëbalangship of the "XIII Mukims Tungkōb" became established without any distinctively religious character, so that the later bearers of the title have exchanged the religious dignity of Teungku for the worldly one of Teuku Imeum Tungkōb.

To take one or two further examples from the dependencies, the title Teuku Hakim borne by one of the three chiefs in the upper part of Daya points to the fact that its bearer was originally charged with the administration of justice; but within the memory of man he who holds this title has been nothing more than an ordinary datōʾ, as the adat chiefs are generally called on the West Coast. The Pangulèë Sidéʾ of Meulabōh, who who was undoubtedly at one time an official under the chief of that place, charged with the task of making judicial enquiries, is now in fact no more than headman of Pulò U (vulg. Simalur).

So little control had the Sultans of Acheh over the course of events, that whatever may have been their purpose in establishing these various offices, the latter became in a short time part and parcel of the indigenous institutions of the country, or else disappeared altogether.

The portion of the port-king's supremacy which survived longest was a kind of lordship exercised over the neighbouring seas and harbours, and this it is in which we must seek the true significance of the sultanate from the very commencement. With the shortlived period of prosperity ended all such glorious expeditions as those undertaken in the 17th century against Malacca and Pahang, but the bold seafarers and pirates of Acheh continued to make themselves dreaded along the coasts of Sumatra and among the surrounding islands. The monopoly of trade claimed by the great sultans could in the end no longer be maintained. Yet it was only a few of the dependencies that dared to refuse payment of the wasé (the sultan's share of the harbour dues) though they managed to reduce the amounts demanded by bargaining. The sums collected by expeditions sent round for this purpose, together with the sadly dwindled harbour dues of Banda Acheh, formed the principal sources of revenue of the later sultans. Much of this however stuck to the fingers of collectors and administrators.

The Achehnese slave-traders were until quite recently the terror of Nias and the adjacent islands.

The seven prerogatives.In oral as well as written tradition we find occasional mention of the sultan's seven prerogatives. They alone had the power to inflict certain punishments, five in number, which could never be imposed by ulèëbalangs, viz. the lopping off of hands, impaling, a sort of crucifixion which consisted in the exposure to view of the dead body of the offender nipped in a cleft tree-trunk, the slicing off of flesh from the body of the condemned (sayab), and the pounding of the head in a rice-mortar (sròh). The privilege of firing a cannon at sunset, and the right of being accosted with the expression dèëlat[171] completes the tale of the seven privileges. It is to be observed that the two last-named are of little real importance, while the special powers of punishment reserved to the sultans were, it is true, seldom or never exercised by ulèëbalangs, but very rarely also by the sultans themselves, if we except the occasional lopping off of the hands of thieves.

To these seven privileges may be added the right of of coining money, which was also reserved to the sultans[172].

Other functions of the rajas.The obligation laid on the ulèëbalangs by some of the edicts, of reporting to the sultan the sentences imposed by them, and bringing before him all suits in which strangers (including Achehnese from other ulèëbalangships) were concerned, always remained a dead letter. Such reports were never made, the sentences of ulèëbalangs were on the same footing as those of independent chiefs, and cases affecting Achehnese not subject to their jurisdiction were either decided by them in consultation with their fellows, or remained unsettled and gave rise to quarrelling and strife. How the law stood in the case of real foreigners may best be learnt from the common saying of the Achehnese to those who would injure them: "Do you take me for a foreigner (or a Kling) to whom anything may be done with impunity?"

Even property left by strangers who die in Acheh without having formed a household there, falls into the hands of the ulèëbalangs!

We have already clearly seen[173] how little the appointment of imeums and the subdivision of the country into mukims contributed to centralization of authority and conformity to religion.

Deed of appointment or recognition.Some show of supremacy was maintained by the sarakatas already referred to[174], letters patent of appointment or rather recognition of the

CHAB SIKUREUËNG OF THE PRETENDER-SULTAN TUANKU MUHAMAT DAWŌT
CHAB SIKUREUËNG OF THE PRETENDER-SULTAN TUANKU MUHAMAT DAWŌT

CHAB SIKUREUËNG OF THE PRETENDER-SULTAN TUANKU MUHAMAT DAWŌT

principal hereditary holders of offices or titles. At the end of this chapter will be found a translation of one of these latest products of the royal chancery, the deed of recognition of the present Panglima Meuseugit Raya by the pretender to the sultanate at Keumala. This document like all the sultans' edicts of appointment I have met with (even including those of very early date), is composed according to established models with slight occasional modifications. It differs only in some trifling details from the other deeds which the chiefs on this side of the "linie" or Dutch pale[175] have succeeded in obtaining by pilgrimages to Keumala.

At the top of such sarakatas in the middle of the sheet, we find the chab sikureuëng or "ninefold seal"[176] whence the documents derive their common name. This contains the name of the reigning sultan in the central space, and in eight circular spaces surrounding it the names of eight celebrated sultans who preceded him, and whose blessing is thus invoked on the deed. The choice of these eight names rests with the reigning sultan; those of Eseukanda Muda (Meukuta Alam), par excellence the prince of old Acheh, and of the immediate predecessors of the reigning king are never omitted, but great freedom of choice is shown as regards the rest.

On some of these documents there stands at the side of this seal the small rectangular private seal of the reigning prince.


PRIVATE SEAL OF THE PRESENT PRETENDER-SULTAN.
In the preamble, which is somewhat magniloquent and besprinkled with Arabic words and phrases, the blessing of Allah, of the Prophet, the saints (of whom Abdul-Qādir Jilānī is specially named as the prince of mystics) and the deceased kings of blessed memory is invoked upon the sultan's decree. Of his predecessors, sometimes the whole eight who appear in the seal, sometimes only two or three are invoked by name. The sultan then reminds the ulèëbalang, whom he recognizes as the successor in office of his forefathers, of the obligations which he lays upon him. The enumeration of the duties, however, teaches us nothing in regard to the nature of the offices, since it is purely religious in character and almost uniform in all such sealed documents.

To restore mosques which have fallen into disrepair, to build new ones, to compel his subjects to perform the public prayers and especially the Friday service, and observe the fasts in the month appointed, such are the chief duties of an ulèëbalang according to the sarakatas with the chab sikureuëng.

From this it is abundantly clear that the sultans under whom the original models were composed had them drafted by ulamas who stood high in their favour, and whose influence in the country was not a negligeable factor. Their employment for this purpose gratified the religious zeal of the ulamas and flattered their vanity, making them believe that they were carrying out a work of great importance; but for practical politics their labour was entirely thrown away.

The ulèëbalangs, then, regarded these documents as nothing more than embellishments which they were glad to possess, but could do without if occasion required. The one object which the Sultans imagined they would attain by means of these deeds of recognition, viz. some influence in the choice of the successor, was never actually reached. A new title-bearer did not report himself to the capital until the most influential men in his district had agreed on his appointment, or in other words satisfied themselves that he was according to the adat the lawful next of kin to the deceased ulèëbalang, and suffered from no moral or physical defect which rendered him unfit to hold office.

In the decadent period many ulèëbalangs and other chiefs found the lustre to be derived from the possession of the nine-fold seal not worth the trouble and the inevitable expense connected with it, such as doing homage to the sultan, gifts to officials and writers etc. They thus entered on office without any chab sikureuëng, or were content with keeping in evidence the deeds of appointment executed by former sultans in favour of one or more of their forefathers.

The position was the same, though on a very much smaller scale, as that of the Mohammedan kingdoms during the decay of the khalifate of the Abbasides. While the latter were hardly masters in their own palace, we find in Egypt, Syria etc. one prince thrusting another from his throne and robbing him of his provinces, and finally in his own good time going and demanding at Bagdad a solemn confirmation of the fait accompli, making it appear that the new state of things had been brought about at the will of the Khalif himself.

The nine-fold and the five-fold seal.There are sayings and stories current among the Achehnese which show that they believed that the like had happened in their case; of these the most graphic is the following: a sultan once confirmed in his authority a chief who had risen to power through acts of injustice and deeds of violence, usurping the place of the rightful rulers. On his attention being drawn to the contempt which such an appointment would bring upon hereditary rights recognized by his predecessors in many documents, the sultan replied: "What avails the chab sikureuëng (the nine-fold seal) to him who cannot show himself possessed of the chab limòng" (the five-fold seal, i.e. the hand as the symbol of power).

Again when we speak of the sultanate of Acheh as it appeared in our own time, as being the ruined relic of what it once was, we must remember that this only applies to the importance of Banda Acheh as a commercial town and the external influence of the rajas, for even in past centuries the influence they exercised on the affairs of the interior was limited to certain short periods, and left no enduring results behind.

The sultanate retrograded in its relations with the interior also; but in this sense, that whereas in former times the sultan was primus inter pares as regards the ulèëbalangs, he was reduced to be a mere ward under the three great panglimas even before the end of that 17th century which began so magnificently[177].

Acheh as the imperishable bride.These three chiefs were the guardians of Acheh, which was represented as a bride that continually renewed her youth; they gave her in marriage to whom they would after mutual consultation. They usually selected the bridegroom from the family of his predecessors, yet did not shrink upon occasion from the introduction of a new dynasty or even the choice of a foreigner, as we see in the case of the Sultans of Arab descent. The bridegroom had to pay to each of the chiefs a sum of 500 dollars as a wedding gift (jinamèë or jeunamèë).

The power of the panglimas of the sagi.The three guardians, the panglima sagi, did not however succeed in the long run in retaining the supremacy over the federate dominions which they had possessed when this metaphorical marriage-contract was concluded.

Panglima Pòlém (Lord Elder Brother) is the title which the chief of the XXII Mukims has borne for many generations past. He is regarded as the doyen of the chiefs of the sagis on account both of the antiquity of his lineage, the bravery of the men of his sagi and its wealth. His sagi really numbers many more mukims than the name implies. Increase of population has given rise to the formation of new districts, yet the traditional name of the sagi has survived. The same is true, though in a less degree, of the XXV Mukims, while the XXVI continue to correspond with their ancient name.

A tradition which represents the Pòléms as sprung from the sultans is contradicted by them, and is without doubt partly legendary and partly concocted by their enemies to bring a stain upon their family. The legend is as follows: the great Meukuta Alam once suffered from a venereal disease and in order to cure it had recourse to the remedy (held in much repute among natives) of having intercourse with a healthy woman[178]. For this purpose he employed a black slave, and did actually recover from his disease. The slave however became pregnant, and as in Acheh great weight is given to descent from the mother's side, he was distressed at the prospect of having to acknowledge as his son the child of a black woman. Accordingly he sent her forth into the jungle, in other words into the district of the XXII Mukims. In regard to her journey there exist numerous stories which chiefly serve to account for the origin of the names of certain localities. According to the legend, the son, whose life was spared by the highlanders, became the first Panglima Pòlém, chief of what is in many respects the most important sagi of Acheh.

This tradition, of which there are also other versions less insulting to the honour of the Pòlém, does not seem to me to contain a single grain of historic truth. The title of "elder brother" probably typified the original relation between the powerful sagi-chief and the sultan. Just in the same way we find two ulèëbalangs with the official title of "grand-fathers" (nèʾ) of the sultan viz. the chief of the Mukim Meuraʾsa (and also in earlier times of the VI Mukims) and the chief of the IX Mukims of the XXV, Teuku Nèʾ Raja Muda Seutia and Teuku Nèʾ Peureuba Wangsa. The title of the chief of Lhōʾ Seumawè, Mahraja or Mbahraja, is also explained by the Achehnese as expressing such a relationship ("father of the king"); it would indeed be very strange that such a chief should obtain the title of Maharaja while his liege lord was simply called Raja of Acheh.

TEUKU MUDA LATÉH, A COUSIN OF PANGLIMA PÒLÉM.
TEUKU MUDA LATÉH, A COUSIN OF PANGLIMA PÒLÉM.

TEUKU MUDA LATÉH, A COUSIN OF PANGLIMA PÒLÉM.

The relations which prevailed between the house of Pòlém and the sultans of Acheh give continual proofs of the respect commanded by the powerful chief of the highlands. Various stories are told about the father of the lately deceased Panglima Pòlém, resembling those narrated of the father of the present Teuku Nanta Seutia, chief of the VI Mukims of the XXV. On the few occasions on which they complied with the summons of the sultan to come and discuss affairs of state, they entered the royal dwelling in foul clothing and addressed the sultan as gata (the equivalent of tutoyer) remarking "we are not wont to say dèëlat." Of the Panglima Pòlém it is said that he often disregarded for months all invitations to the Dalam, and finally, as a token of goodwill, journeyed to the Sultan's frontier and had a heavy gong beaten to announce his presence, after which he returned home! Yet there arose in his own sagi another chief who thought himself no whit his inferior, the ulèëbalang of the VII Mukims Baʾét. The power and influence of these two potentates are among the most ancient and most firmly established of all that now exist in Great Acheh. In the other sagis the preponderance alternated between one ulèëbalang and another.

The panglima of the XXVI Mukims, had long been a person of small importance, as may be gathered from what follows. When the holder of the title died during the reign of Ibrahim Mansō Shah (1858–70), one Teuku Muda Lampasèh was according to the adat the proper successor; he was accordingly, after reporting himself in the Dalam, solemnly recognized by the sultan as panglima.

Even before he had quitted the Dalam the firing of guns was heard from the direction of the XXVI Mukims, and it appeared on enquiry that the people of that district, who objected to Teuku Muda Lampasèh on the ground that he was an opium-smoker, had installed a younger brother of the deceased panglima as the latter's successor. This was Teuku Chut Lamreuëng, father of the present panglima Teuku Nyaʾ Banta, who is also called Teuku Lamreuëng[179].

The sultan knew no better way out of the difficulty than to recognize the second aspirant as well, so that there were then two panglimas in the XXVI Mukims.

At the commencement of the war both chiefs fled to Keumala, but Teuku Lamreuëng in the end re-established himself in his territory and tendered his submission to the Dutch Government. For this he was murdered in Pidië, whither he had gone to fetch his family, by the adherents of Teuku Lampasèh. His infant son escaped the same fate through the help of a faithful servant.

This son was afterwards recognized by the Government as Panglima of the XXVI Mukims, while after the the death of Teuku Muda Lampasèh, the latter's son Teuku Juhan was appointed panglima at Keumala. The journeys to Keumala undertaken by the ulèëbalangs who had tendered their submission to the government resulted in the

TEUKU NYAʾ BANTA, PANGLIMA SAGÒË OF THE XXVI MUKIMS.
TEUKU NYAʾ BANTA, PANGLIMA SAGÒË OF THE XXVI MUKIMS.

TEUKU NYAʾ BANTA, PANGLIMA SAGÒË OF THE XXVI MUKIMS.

recognition of Teuku Nyaʾ Banta by the court, so that the double panglimaship continued to exist, but in fact Teuku Juhan is not able to pose as a rival of Teuku Nyaʾ Banta.

Teuku Imeum Tungkōb[180] is to this day a powerful chief in the XXVI Mukims. The power of Teuku Ateuëʾ (chief of the IV Mukims Ateuëʾ) on the other hand was according to tradition much more considerable in earlier times than it now is.

The present panglima of the XXV Mukims is called Teuku Seutia Ulama, a name which lends weight to the conjecture that an earlier

TEUKU CHUT TUNGKŌB, ULÈËBALANG OF THE XIII MUKIMS TUNGKŌB.
TEUKU CHUT TUNGKŌB, ULÈËBALANG OF THE XIII MUKIMS TUNGKŌB.

TEUKU CHUT TUNGKŌB, ULÈËBALANG OF THE XIII MUKIMS TUNGKŌB.

holder of the office may have distinguished himself by his legal learning. His name among the people is Teuku Siah (one of the Achehnese forms of the Arabic Shaikh) Ulama. He has occupied himself but little with the government of the district, and for a long time past the power of some of the other ulèëbalangs appears to have put that of their nominal chief in the shade. The true potentates of this sagi are Teuku Nèʾ Peureuba Wangsa, chief of the IX Mukims, Teuku Nèʾ Raja Muda Seutia, ulèëbalang of the Mukim Meuraʾsa (and earlier also of the VI Mukims), and Teuku Nanta Seutia, who wrested the VI Mukims from the last mentioned chief[181].

At the election of a new sultan, which was usually decided by a war between the different parties, the scale was turned not so much by the support of the panglimas as by that of the real wielders of power in their sagis. Thus in process of time the number of guardians of the sultanate increased, and the Achehnese authorities on adat have in noticing this change given the rein to their predilection for round numbers. They speak of the "twelve ulèëbalangs, who appoint and dethrone princes"; and describe them as consisting of four from each sagi[182]. To make up the tale of twelve, they call the head kalis of the three sagis ulèëbalangs, which is quite inaccurate. They of course include in their list the panglima sagi[183]; thus two are left for each sagi who are regarded as the principal ulèëbalangs, or rather were so accounted at the time when the tradition was placed on record. These chief ulèëbalangs are: for the XXV Mukims, the two Neʾs already several times alluded to; for the XXVI Mukims Teuku Ateuëʾ and Teuku Tungkōb, and for the XXII Mukims, Teuku Baʾét, ulèëbalang of the VII Mukims, and Teuku Waki Chiʾ Gampōng Baroh, chief of the V Mukims.

In reality this list (even if we disregard its subordination of facts to round numbers) at most represents the conditions that existed during a short period. The whole twelve had not in the long run a voice in the affairs of the capital, while some of them had absolutely no share therein. On the other hand there were ulèëbalangs in the sultan's territory and the so-called wakeuëh-districts (as for instance Teuku Kali, the Panglima Meuseugit Raya, the Imeums of Luëng Bata and Chadéʾ etc.) who had much more weight in the scale than many of the members of the board of twelve. Speaking generally however, the guardianship exercised by the three sagis over the sultanate remains a fact, no matter who may at different periods have been accounted the most powerful representatives of each.

Installation of a new sultan.At the solemn installation of a new sultan, his own proper ulèëbalangs played more or less the part of masters of ceremonies, while the kalis and ulamas gave as it were their blessing to the marriage of the raja with his country.

We shall now give the most characteristic features of the ceremony of installation, as related to us by eye-witnesses of the last sultan's coronation.

In the neighbourhood of the royal abode and of the balè rōm, in which the sultan received his guests, was a square space surrounded by a low wall. Inside this there was a platform, also square, composed as it seems of stones somewhat roughly piled together, to which access was given by a flight of steps. At the side of the platform, which was called branda seumah or praʾna seumah, was a small wooden gallery supported on posts. The opening in the low enclosing wall giving access to the enclosure in which the platform stood, was in the middle of its rearmost side, that is the side to which the sultan's back was turned when he took his seat on the branda seumah.

This platform seems only to have been used for coronations and was suitably decorated on these occasions; at ordinary times it was neglected, so that anyone passing through the Dalam or Kuta Raja would hardly notice it.

A debate lasting some weeks was first held by the three panglima sagi and other influential chiefs (in consultation, so far as they thought necessary, with the kalis and ulamas) to determine the most suitable candidate for the vacant throne. When their final decision had been sealed by the payment of the "wedding" presents to the three panglimas, a favourable day was fixed for the ceremony.

During the forenoon of this day those court dignitaries whose offices had not shared the universal downfall, were at their posts—especially the Panglima Meuseugit Raya, whose duty it was to keep order in the Dalam, and the Teuku Kali Malikōn Adé, who performed his functions within the space surrounding the branda seumah, with his blunderbuss hanging from his shoulder, and a white cocoanut spathe wound in his head cloth[184].

The new sultan now took his seat on the platform, while the three head kalis of the sagis and some of the principal ulamas ranged themselves behind him. A huge crowd watched the ceremony from a little distance.

The first to approach were the panglima of the XXVI Mukims and Teuku Nèʾ, both of whom, accompanied by their attendants, advanced close to the wall within which the platform stood.

One of the kalis, Teungku Lam Paya[185] of the XXV Mukims, thereupon recited a form of nomination introduced by the following words from the Qurān (IV, 62): "Obey Allah and his Messenger and those among you who be clad with authority." This utterance was repeated in a loud tone by the Teuku Kali so that all the people might hear. After the conclusion of the form of nomination, the Teuku Kali called the panglima of the XXVI Mukims thrice in succession by his official title, to which the latter and his followers replied each time with a loud "dèëlat!" almost equivalent to "Yes, Your Majesty!"

The panglima and his attendants then drew aside to make room for his fellow-official of the XXV Mukims; with him, and after him with the panglima of the XXII, the above ceremony was repeated, while the presence of Teuku Nèʾ at all three installations gave evidence of his intimate relation with the royal house.

Order of precedence of the three sagis.The official order of precedence of the three sagis on ceremonial occasions is always that here given, viz. XXVI, XXV, XXII. One might almost conjecture that this sequence was fixed according to the original number of mukims in each sagi, and that once so established it was always adhered to. Judging by their relative importance the order of precedence should be reversed.

We may further observe that the coronation of the sovereign was and remained a contract with the three panglimas, though the choice of a sultan was governed to a great extent by entirely different influences.

Significance of the sultan and the Dalam.The Dalam (usually called Kraton by the Dutch) and all that it contained, including the sultan himself, were since the earliest times the objects of a somewhat extraordinary reverence in the minds of the Achehnese, though this never prevented them from making a football of the sultanate at their pleasure. This feeling of reverence was founded partly on the fact that the Dalam was the centre and apparently the origin of the glory of a past almost fabulous in comparison with later times, and partly on the kindred fact that the Achehnese (though wrongly as we have seen) ascribe all the adats of the country to the earlier sultans. These princes did indeed to some degree regulate the existing adat and endeavoured in vain to abolish a portion of it; yet what they did has sufficed to stamp all unwritten laws and customs of the country as "adat pòten meureuhōm" = "the adats of our late Lords."

Respect for the dynasty.Thus did the respect in which the reigning house was held develop a sort of religious aspect, of which the following may serve as an illustration. On the occasion of the famous journey of Teuku Nèʾ of Meuraʾsa and his followers to the court at Keumala, all who accompanied him were implored by their friends and relations to bring back with them some water wherein the pretender to the sultanate had washed his feet. We may add that this young ne'er-do-well was for some time regarded by a portion of his subjects as kramat, i. e. one miraculously revealed as the chosen friend of God.

As however this feeling of awe has within the memory of man always been coupled with the conviction that the sole sovereign prince of the country exercised no perceptible influence on the conduct of affairs[186], and was in fact but an expensive luxury like the documents sealed with the chab sikureuëng, all this reverence is, comparatively speaking, of very slight value from a practical point of view.

Conduct of the sultans and tuankus.The rumours of the Dalam that reached the outer world were far from pleasant. The scions of royal blood (tuankus) fortunately for Acheh not very numerous, were (and still are) convinced that they stood superior to the adat pòteu meureuhōm and all other adats which place a restraint upon human passion and wickedness; they often led lives of the most savage immorality.

They used to take from their subjects all that pleased their fancy, and death was a light punishment for opposition to their boundless license. The daughters of the man of low degree were made the victims of their lust, and the results of such concubinage were artificially destroyed.

The people were powerless to resist the misconduct of the sultan and princes. The customary retribution for personal wrongs by the wreaking of vengeance was even less available against them than against the ulèëbalangs and other chiefs[187].

In Kuala Batèë (Pidië) there was settled in recent times a branch of the royal family which was on bad terms with the Sultan. These tuankus had been repeatedly declared outlaws by the latter on account of piracies committed even on Achehnese prahus and to the detriment

TUANKU USÉN.
TUANKU USÉN.

TUANKU USÉN.

of the Sultan himself. Yet none dared to assail them, being well assured that there was much danger and little honour to be gained by the slaughter of scions of the royal house. This is the family of pirates to which belong the Tuankus Usén and Abdōmajét (Husain and Abdulmajīd) who have now submitted to the Dutch Government.

There is no political significance in the fact that the people thus suffered many an injury to pass unnoticed, preferring to avoid the tuankus as much as possible. This exceedingly burdensome feudal system is simply a relic of past history.

The servants of the rajas were also a terrible scourge to the people.

TUANKU MUHAMAT, SON OF TUANKU ABDŌMAJÉT.
TUANKU MUHAMAT, SON OF TUANKU ABDŌMAJÉT.

TUANKU MUHAMAT, SON OF TUANKU ABDŌMAJÉT.

They were generally men of ill repute—such for instance as had fled to the Dalam to escape a righteous blood-vengeance which threatened their lives. The smallest shadow of an injury was eagerly seized on and represented by them as high treason, and they sometimes succeeded in inducing the raja or the members of his family to take their view. When their caprices could no longer be patiently submitted to, it not unfrequently happened that they were secretly put out of the way by the people whom they had outraged.

It is thus not surprising that the traditional reverence of the people for the rajas and their race expressed itself in a somewhat peculiar manner, finding vent in words and empty forms rather than in deeds.

TUANKU IBRAHIM, SON OF TUANKU ABDŌMAJÉT.
TUANKU IBRAHIM, SON OF TUANKU ABDŌMAJÉT.

TUANKU IBRAHIM, SON OF TUANKU ABDŌMAJÉT.

Examined closely, the power of the later sultans appears to have been actually confined to the limits of the Dalam, though the superficial observer might draw another conclusion from the persistent survival of a different mode of address and of certain forms which really never had any substantial meaning. It was not only the powerful ulèëbalangs of the sagis that made war on one another. The lesser ulèëbalangs, who each controlled 12 gampōngs (Teuku Kali and Panglima Meuseugit Raya) did the same, though their territories marched with the Dalam, and they might more than other chiefs have been supposed to be creatures of the sultanate. Even the sultan's own followers took part in these conflicts, espousing different sides.

Attitude of the Dalam at the outbreak of the war.Had a sultan or a scion of the royal house, endowed with exceptional strength of will and clearness of judgment, placed himself at the head of the struggle à outrance which took place when the Dutch came to Acheh, and inspired the Achehnese people by precept and example, such a prince would without doubt have been for the invaders anything but a negligable quantity. Such an one could more easily than any other have succeeded in uniting much divided Acheh into a whole entirely hostile to the foreign foe. As it is, an ulama who preaches holy war is able to deprive an Achehnese ulèëbalang of the allegiance of a considerable portion of his subjects; how much more could have been accomplished by a raja who was the ulamas' equal in sacred authority, and over and above this was clothed with the legendary traditions of the past greatness of Acheh!

Such a supposition, however, is not warranted by the actual state of things. Political foresight is, in these days at least, foreign to the nature of all Achehnese. A raja of Acheh in particular, who plunged into the fray with persevering self-sacrifice in the interests of the people or their religion would be a phenomenon that the Achehnese themselves would be unable to explain except as a revelation of the boundless miraculous power of God.

To this we may add that nowhere could worse material be found for organizing a stout resistance to foreign invasion than in the lowland districts of Acheh in the immediate neighbourhood of the Dalam. There the people were "banda" or worldly-wise, and not duson, "ignorant and countrified" like the highlanders. They would indeed have preferred the continuance of the old regime without foreign interference, for they were inclined by their own past history haughtily to rebel against all ideas of foreign supremacy. Yet they were disposed to moderate views through abundant contact with non-Mohammedan as well as Mohammedan strangers, and were far removed from the frank belief in the invincibility of Moslim weapons in general and of those of theAchehnese in particular, which inspired the semi-savage highlanders. The bands of warriors devoted even unto death found but few recruits in the districts near the coast.

The people of this latter region would have preferred to construct out of the inevitable march of events conditions as endurable and advantageous as possible, rather than squander life and property with but little prospect of success.

Two causes, however, united to prevent the majority of them from bringing this to pass. First, the great internal division that prevailed among them and made it easily possible for a man of peaceful counsels to be decried as a traitor by his enemies; and secondly the certainty that the people of the highlands would never consent to the bargain, and slow though they were to render active support outside their own boundaries, might treat as infidels all who seemed to take the infidels' part. The lowlanders were accounted cowards by their highland brethren by reason of their leaning towards peace.

Thus among the few in the Dalam who at first advised friendly negociations with the Gōmpeuni[188], there were some who wished to see this policy carried out in such a way as to keep the highlanders in ignorance of the real nature of the treaty which they hoped to conclude, and mislead them as to the import of the hoisting of a foreign flag.

As might have been expected amid the universal hatred and contempt for the infidel, which had not yet been reduced within bounds by sharp lessons, these isolated voices of worldly wisdom were speedily hushed. There was, besides, no single individual or body competent or authorized to adopt resolutions as to the fate of Acheh or even of the capital itself, since there was no guarantee that such resolutions would be binding on others.

The sultanate at once exhibited itself in all its nullity. The resistance offered was not that of an army collected and led forth by the prince or his military commanders, but was the work of unorganized bands, which combined their plans only so far as circumstances imperatively required.

Before the Dutch gained possession of the Dalam, the sultan had disappeared from the scene. During the subsequent course of the conflict, it was always separate and independent bodies of troops, led either by adat-chiefs or by some newly-arisen commanders of energetic personality, that turned their arms against the invaders through their own impulse or to advance their own interests. Thus the most powerful compulsion from without could produce no union in Acheh, utterly broken up as she was. The sole individual who succeeded during the first portion of the war in organizing the forces to a comparatively high degree was an ambitious and skilful foreigner, Sayyid Abdurrahman Zahir by name.

When Sultan Mahmut Shah died shortly after the loss of the Dalam, it was not thought necessary even in so perilous a crisis to select from among the candidates for the succession to the throne a man before all things. They contented themselves with a child, Tuanku Muhamat Dawōt; and though his guardian Tuanku Asém (Hashim) was a man of royal blood most bitterly hostile to the Dutch Government, even he preferred to watch the contest with interest from a distance rather than himself to take a serious share in it, much less to enter the lists as a leader.

The Sultanate after the taking of the Dalam.When once the fugitive "court" had found a safe place of refuge in Pidië territory, far removed from the theatre of the conflict, the condition of the sultanate became very much the same as it had been before the war, the scene alone being changed.

The young sultan, gradually emerging from childhood, soon showed that he aspired to something very different from sharing the weal or woe of his country as leader of the contest against the Gōmpeuni. True to the traditions of his house, he sought and still seeks diversion in lawful and unlawful love, drink, fiddling, fights of animals, gambling and the pursuit of elephant and deer. His letters to the Achehnese chiefs still always commence with the solemn admonition continually to remember "Allah, his Messenger, the departed sovereigns and ourselves;" and this last reminder takes tangible form in the latter portion of these letters in a request to forward a certain sum of money or some costly merchandise.

The ulèëbalangs and chiefs of the dependencies held only just so much intercourse with the "court" as their own inclination dictated. The edicts whereby some among them are confirmed as holders of certain ranks and dignities are just as solemn and pious in form as before, but of equally little consequence in practice, as they simply imprint the chab sikureuëng on what has been already won by inheritance or by the chab limòng[189].

Teungku Tirò.The famous Teungku Tirò, who died in January 1891, was not, as has been so often represented, entrusted by the sultan with the regulation of religious affairs in Great Acheh. This ulama had worked up (by means which we shall describe later on) to the position of commander-in-chief in the war against the Gōmpeuni, and wished to arm himself to some extent against the jealousy of the adat-chiefs by an official authorization of the sultan, whereby he was placed on a level with the ulèëbalangs, or as he preferred to interpret it, over their heads.

The "court" gave him, cautiously enough, a deed of appointment which in appearance made no inroad on the rights of the adat-chiefs, as it limited the province of the ulama to religious matters. At the same time all the parties concerned were well aware that in the view of the ulamas every thing came under the head of religion, especially antagonism to unrighteous adats, the waging of war against unbelievers, the administration of justice etc. Even after this formal appointment Teungku Tirò submitted to no legal dictation from Keumala, nay even refused on more than one occasion to satisfy the sultan's demands for money contributions.

Teuku Uma (Umar).Teuku Uma (Umar) the celebrated chief of the West Coast who rose to greatness during the war, obtained supremacy over the whole of the West Coast by tact, good luck and knowledge of men. In this purely worldly ascendancy he was confirmed in just the same way as Teungku Tirò in his so-called religious authority. In this case again there was a cautious mental reservation. Nothing could be refused to the man who from time to time propitiated the court by generous gifts, so in his letters-patent a large portion of the West Coast was made over to him. But when some of the hereditary chiefs complained of this edict, it was pointed out to them that Teuku Uma was described in the document as amī ōbha (amīr ul-bahr) i. e. chief of the sea, and entrusted with the collection of the sultan's coast dues, but that this absolutely excluded the highest authority on land.

He also both in word and deed yielded to the Sultan only as much as he chose, and looked on his sealed letters of appointment as a mere ornament that might at times give an official flavour to his pretensions.

Still less did other chiefs concern themselves about Keumala. Indeed the ulèëbalangs in the sultan's immediate neighbourhood used sometimes to wage war against him, compelling him to have recourse to the help of others, since he himself has no troops, but only a handful of personal followers at his disposal. Keumala, the seat of the sultanate, had to be subdued by force in the first instance by the royal family[190].

The royal family.Apart from this, the members of the royal family, though comparatively few in number, are far from living in harmony with one another, in spite of the critical position of the country. Although the ties of blood relationship are strengthened by marriage alliances (for example the Sultan has wedded a daughter of Tuanku Abdōmajét), the family of Kuala Batèë is on bad terms with the court. One might be disposed to attribute this fact to the submission of that family to the Gōmpeuni, but when we perceive that Tuanku Asém (Hashim) and his former ward are on terms of mutual distrust, we are forced to the conclusion that even if there were no Gōmpeuni in the question, unpleasant relations would still have arisen with this other branch of the reigning house.

Tuanku Asém, [died January 1897 at Padang Tiji in the Mukims VII] according to all who know him is an exception to the majority of the men of royal blood in Acheh. He speaks Malay and a little Arabic, understands something of English, and can discuss the religious books or kitabs as well as the traditions of his country. This last must however be taken cum grano salis, as Achehnese ears can be charmed with the purest nonsense or such topics. He is capable of fixing his attention on a single subject for a considerable time, is a strict observer of his chief religious duties, plays chess, and exhibits in all his utterances a deep hatred for the Gōmpeuni, based on events antecedent to the Achehnese war. Like all estimates of individual worth, that which we can form respecting Tuanku Asém is relative only. The Achehnese, accustomed as he is to hear no sensible language from the lips of tuankus and to see them devote their attention to fighting cocks and rams, women, weapons and so forth, is inclined to give a wide significance to any intelligent utterance of a member of the royal family, and to exaggerate the mental insight of the speaker.

Those who knew Keumala, however, were well aware that Tuanku Asém did not confine himself to quarrelling with his royal ward over the latter's licentious life and neglect of his religious duties. He also exhibited much jealousy of the sultan in regard to the receipt of presents; he bargained in the pettiest spirit in his name and in conjunction with him as to the market value of royal deeds of appointment, for which the aspirants to such honours were obliged to pay cash; while his political genius, apart from its expression in highsounding learned phrases, revealed itself especially in the desire to turn every thing into hard cash for the benefit of the "court."

Under the influence of Tuanku Asém correspondence was kept up on the part of the court with such men as Teungku Tirò and Teuku Uma in regard to money matters and circumstances closely affecting the friends or protégés of the Sultan, but beyond this Keumala exercised but little influence on the actions of these two individuals, who in their turn rarely held consultations with one another.

Attitude of Teungku Tirò and Teuku Uma with regard to the visits to Keumala.Some years ago, when visits to Keumala by chiefs who had submitted to the Dutch Government were arranged in order to restore them to friendly relations with "the court", Teungku Tirò was at first disposed to place obstacles in the way of this plan, though both the parties concerned desired it. The sultan and his people were in favour of it for the sake of the prospective profits, and the chiefs because their moral attitude would thus be somewhat restored in the eyes of those of their fellows who had not yet tendered their submission to the Gōmpeuni. Nor did Teungku Tirò acquiesce until the cunning Teuku Uma had frankly pointed out to him that it would be better to permit the renewal of such intercourse, in order that the court might draw revenues from the other side of the "linie," and thus make less frequent demand on them for financial support. Had it not been so, these visits would have come to nothing. Here we have a fresh proof of the insignificance of the court, both in relation to the affairs of the interior and to the Dutch Government. There was never a party at Keumala, but merely a court clique, which continued the traditions of the feeble Dalam that subsisted in the capital in former days.

[Since the above was written, circumstances have in many respects modified the part played by the pretender to the sultanate. See Preface.]


§ 9. Rivals of the Traditional Authorities; Political
Adventurers and Representatives of Religion.

In the last portion of our description of the political system of Acheh we have frequently mentioned the names of two men, Teungku Tirò and Teuku Uma, who may serve as types of their respective classes. They find no place in the ranks of officers of state such as the panglima sagòë, ulèëbalang, kali, imeum, keuchiʾ and teungku meunasah, yet they are most weighty factors in the political life of the country, and are not to be overlooked in any description thereof, especially where we are examining the development of political conditions during the past few years. This period is one of disorder, and disorder and unrest form the milieu in which people of both the classes referred to live and flourish best, though their influence makes itself felt in Acheh in times of comparative repose also. They may be called the rivals of the hereditary chiefs.

Political adventurers.The first kind require but brief mention, as they fight the ulèëbalangs, so to speak, with their own weapons. They are ambitious men, and aim more or less openly at the ulèëbalangship, the zenith of worldly greatness in the eyes of the Achehnese. They are to be found among the title-bearers without territory[191], who use their position to gain themselves followers and to outshine the ulèëbalang in whose district they reside, so as to compel him either to make them great concessions or to vacate the field in their favour. We have already seen examples of this kind of rivalry in the case of Teuku Nanta Seutia and Teuku Kali.

No less dangerous are those adventurers who can only bring to bear a more or less illustrious descent, or as its equivalent a reputation won upon the field of battle, and who are thus able to gain adherents in various ulèëbalangships.

Conditions for the success of these adventurers.To ensure success they chiefly require such tact as will unite men to their cause; they must possess the gift of command, but at the same time reward their followers handsomely and treat them in such a way that they will prefer them to the ulèëbalangs, who are as a rule of a niggardly disposition.

Inaction is for them the prelude to a fall. Nothing but a constant succession of fresh enterprises can enable them to augment their influence and keep their rakans supplied with the necessary emoluments. War is thus for them a condition of existence; until they have attained their highest aim, they are the enemies of order and repose. Not until they have actually become ulèëbalangs do they remit their labours and content themselves with mere ordinary plunder. After they have advanced to a certain degree of distinction they do not disdain political marriage alliances, where such are likely to give them a firmer footing in some important district.

All these and similar methods have been successfully employed by Teuku Uma in the course of the past few years. Beloved by his followers for his generous and kindly demeanour, he worked himself up from a mere panglima in the war against the Dutch to be the dreaded lord of almost the whole West Coast. Throughout the whole of the sphere of his influence, his appearance is the signal for the heriditary chief to retire into the background, well knowing that if he failed to do so it would soon be all over with him. To crown all he induced the sultan for a handsome consideration to impress his nine-fold seal upon his power by means of a deed appointing him "Sea-guardian of the West Coast."

Teuku Uma's success proves indeed how dangerous such rivalries may be for the hereditary chiefs, weakened as they generally are through their passion for spoil and money, their narrowness of mind and want of energy. Much however depends on the personal character of these chiefs. They have equal opportunities for winning the affections of their rakans and more means at their disposal for increasing their influence than an ambitious leader of troops. Against an energetic chief such as the imeum of Teunòm even Teuku Uma could make but little head. [An account of the subsequent adventures of Teuku Uma, since 1892, will be found in the Preface.]

At the same time these adventurers had the unmistakable advantage of introducing a new departure from the old and superseded order of things, and the conditions which arose from the coming of the Dutch to Acheh were exceptionally favourable to their objects. While the hereditary ulèëbalangs are engrossed by care for their own territories, they seize the opportunity to rally around them all the restless spirits in each district. They weigh their chances carefully before deciding to try their luck against the foreign invader. They lack but one thing, which is the special property of the second class of rivals of the adat chiefs; they cannot inspire their followers with holy zeal and self-sacrificing devotion.

Representatives of religion.This second class requires much more extended notice; it consists of the various representatives of religion or of such as borrow a certain prestige therefrom.

So far we have learnt of the indissoluble union and indispensable coöperation of hukōm or religious law with adat, the custom of the country, as being the very basis of life in Acheh. At the same time we have constantly remarked how the adat assumes the part of the mistress and the hukōm that of her obedient slave. The hukōm however revenges herself for her subordination whenever she sees the chance; her representatives are always on the look-out for an opportunity to escape from this servile position. They do not require, like the political adventurers, to seek for adherents; these are voluntarily furnished by the anthropolatry which is as strong a feature in the religion of the Achehnese as in that of most other Mohammedan countries.

Respect of persons in the creed of Islam.In the earlier days of its existence Islam gave little weight to persons. The Believers had to do with Allah only, and although there were amongst mankind appointed instruments of God, who once for all conveyed and interpreted his commands to humanity, these had no real part in the salvation of man.

The Prophet and his descendants.This was soon modified, and the change grew more pronounced as time went on and Islam spread beyond Arabia amongst peoples of different requirements and modes of thought. The reverence paid to the Prophet grew so great, that in the beginning of the present century the Wahhabites (following in the footsteps of many learned dissenters of earlier times) branded it as idolatry—but this sect was declared heretical and persecuted. The same veneration was in a measure extended to the descendants of the Prophet, the sayyids and sharifs[192].

The Shiʾite conception of their persons as sacred[193], inviolable and entitled to the reverence of all Believers, gradually became part of the orthodox teaching. Even had it not done so, the doctrine would have become popular in the Archipelago, for Islam as first introduced here from Hindustan has always shown Shiʾite tendencies.

Founders of mystic orders.Mysticism has also flourished extensively in Islam. In such esteem is it held that the founders of mystic societies (ṭarīqah), their successors and even the simplest teachers of mystic formulas or practices are within their own circle obeyed by their pupils and reverenced and feared by others as a sort of vice-regents of God.

It was from these societies especially that there arose the walis, the "friends of Allah". That they are chosen of God above their fellow men appears from manifest tokens of a miraculous nature (kramat). Their prayers can heal the sick, their blessing brings happiness for time and eternity and their curse misery. These influences are believed to issue from their graves after their death; hence vows are made at and presents brought to their holy tombs.

In the popular belief their mediation with Allah, who is of course too exalted to occupy himself with the small wants of his creatures, is almost indispensable, and the request for their good offices differs little from a prayer.

In the beginning of this century, the Wahhabites protested also against this universally prevalent idolatry, but without success. Every town, nay almost every village has its patron saint, and also the tombs of other holy men, whose blessing is invoked for certain definite purposes.

Under the influence of that mysticism which continually grew in popularity, and the constantly increasing veneration paid to prophets, sayyids and sharifs, teachers and saints, the position of the pandits or ulamas has also altered somewhat from what it originally was. As keepers and spreaders of the knowledge of the holy law, they have a claim to universal reverence. Contempt for their word passes almost as unbelief. There are among them some whose prayers of mediation are invoked during their life time and whose tombs are honoured as holy places after their death. Mysticism has so completely pervaded more recent Mohammedanism that most of the learned in the law are also the representatives of this deeper, more intimate and secret aspect of religious life.

Veneration for sacred personages in Acheh.As regards Acheh in particular, there is nothing special to be said as to the reverence paid to Mohammed. Here as in all other Mohammedan countries, it rises to the highest pitch permitted by the creed of Islam, which in the beginning zealously set its face against the deification of human beings.

The sayyids occupy as high a position in Acheh as in any other country of the Archipelago. This may be partly due to their not experiencing here the counterpoise of a European government, which elsewhere keeps a strict watch on such influential persons: the fact remains that they command a deeply-rooted respect and fear.

Their number is not very great in Acheh, and comprises some who, enticed perhaps by the great advantages of sayyidship, parade a false genealogy, a trick which would meet with no success in most other parts of the Archipelago.

Native-born descendants of sayyids quickly assume the character inherited from their mothers. They lose their knowledge of the Arabic tongue, and though they continue in spite of occasional opposition to belong to the dreaded and respected religious nobility, they cannot in the long run compete with their kinsmen who come over from Arabia.

Their title in earlier times was Teungku[194] Sayét (= Sayyid). The celebrated Sayyid Abdurrahman Zahir introduced the custom of substituting for these two words the title Habib (literally "beloved") used in Arabia as an honorific designation of Sayyids. In conversation the word habib is at present used in Acheh to express acquiescence in or obedience to the word of the Sayyid, just as dèëlat[195] is used to the sultan. Sometimes the expression pangulèë (a variation borrowed from the Pidië dialect) is employed in this sense. It is the equivalent of the Malay pěnghulu[196] = chief or lord, a title otherwise confined in Acheh to the prophet and his disciples etc.

Teungku Anjōng.The tomb at present most highly honoured in Acheh is that of Teungku Anjōng in Gampōng Jawa. It is the last resting-place of a certain Sayyid Abu Bakar bin Ḥusain Bil-Faqih, and has completely outshone the more ancient tomb of Teungku di Kuala alias Abdoraʾōh (Abdurraʾuf of Singkel) which enjoyed the highest reputation in former times.

Among the living in like manner we find a Habib kramat of the famous family of ʿAidarus[197], a half-crazy young man, the son of Teungku di Bukét. The father who also enjoyed a reputation for sanctity, was in conjunction with the lately deceased raja of Idi (vulg. Edi) the first pioneer of that district. A sister of this sanctified madman is in her turn so holy that her husband after co-habiting with her once, became very ill and has not since ventured to renew his marital rights.

Some members of another family of Sayyids from Mecca are settled in Pidië and used to make occasional journeys to Keumala, where the young sultan treated them with the highest honour.

Not by any means all of the sayyids of Acheh are theologians or pandits. Most of them devote themselves to trade or in later generations to agriculture, but they enjoy none the less the customary reverence based on religious feeling, even where their life is far from testifying to a devotional spirit on their part. Such is often the case not only with sayyids who have found their way over from Arabia in the guise of random adventurers, but also with those born in Acheh, who quickly make their own of Achehnese manners and vices. With them too these vices are usually more than ordinarily pronounced, as they are excessively spoilt from their earliest youth.

DÉAH CONTAINING THE TOMB OF TEUNGKU ANJŌNG.
DÉAH CONTAINING THE TOMB OF TEUNGKU ANJŌNG.

DÉAH CONTAINING THE TOMB OF TEUNGKU ANJŌNG.

The Mohammedan law is averse to allowing women to wed with men of a rank lower than their own, and marriages of the daughters of sayyids with those who are not sayyids are everywhere of extremely rare occurrence. In Acheh hardly anyone not a sayyid would venture on such a union, as it is thought certain that the vengeance of God would overtake him even in this life.

The daughters of sayyids must thus always wait until fortune sends a sayyid to their gampōng; they are then presented for his acceptance with much rivalry, nay even pressed upon him. And such daughters are not few, for the sayyids are fond of travelling and always ready to contract marriages even during a short residence in a gampōng, so that they beget a numerous progeny.

In accordance with the adat the sayyids' daughters are, like other women, prohibited as a rule from leaving their own gampōngs, so that there are to be found among them virgins of a comparatively advanced age, otherwise an unknown phenomenon in Acheh.

From the Achehnese, who is a_ niggard to all other strangers, the sayyid meets a ready welcome, and he need take little pains, even though he holds no office and has no employment, to secure his own subsistence. This is supplied him by the woman he marries or the host whom he makes glad with the blessing of his presence.

In practice it may be said that the Achehnese fears the sayyid more than the Creator. This is due to his believing that Allah reserves his punishments for the hereafter and is illimitably merciful in the enforcement of his law against the faithful, whereas the curse of the sayyids takes effect here below without any hope of mercy. No Achehnese will readily so much as lift a finger against a sayyid; one who would dare to take a sayyid's life would not hesitate to cut his own father's throat.

The sayyid gives orders in his neighbour's house as if it were his own, and no one resents it. Under the protection of an energetic sayyid even a European might travel in safety throughout Acheh.

Names of various sayyids appear in the list of the sultans of Acheh, and in several places members of the families of sayyids have succeeded in raising themselves to the position of a kind of ulèëbalangs. None however has employed the great respect of the Achehnese for his descent with more political tact and more success than Sayyid Abdurrahman Zahir, usually known as Habib Abdurrahman.

Habib Abdurrahman.In the beginning of his residence in Acheh he claimed special attention as a strict teacher of Mohammedan law. His knowledge of the kitabs is considerable, though he would not pass for a doctor of law in Arabia, but it amply sufficed in Acheh, when coupled with a devout life, to make him the head of the religious party. The greatest pandits at the capital soon acknowledged him their master. He took the lead of his disciples in the services of prayer, and often moved his whole congregation to tears. When he talked with his intimate friends their usual topic was the moral and religious depravity of the Achehnese. He soon acquired the title of "The Habib" par excellence.

It was not long before the Habib was able to rely fully on the support of all the ulamas and those who wished to gain a reputation for piety, and of a considerable portion of the credulous masses. From every side there poured in thousands of men and women eager were it only to kiss the Habib's hand. On such occasions each one brought as a gift a measure (gampét) of husked rice at the least, and sometimes money presents of considerable amount.

He thus won all the influence that an ambitious Achehnese ulama might attain, but rose superior to all such ulamas by virtue of the knowledge of the world, keen insight and political talent which distinguished him from the native Achehnese, and also from the fact of his being a sayyid.

So hopelessly divided are the people of Acheh that the greatest of ulamas would always find jealous rivals and thus have parties hostile to him; but the Habib as a foreigner stood outside parties, and as a sayyid was exalted above all the native Achehnese.

The important chiefs and satellites of the sultan with whom he came in contact supplied him with but few real friends and adherents, for these representatives of adat, unless they be unusually devout, see in an upholder of the hukōm a formidable rival. Looking at the circumstances, we at once see that this conservative party is right in this view. Whoever advances the pretension of "upholding religion" (peukōng agama) is their natural enemy, and the most serious part of the matter is that they actually lack the weapons wherewith to contend against such foes.

A reformation of the institutions of the country conducted in a religious spirit would rob the ulèëbalangs of everything. Even if the work were carried out with the utmost moderation in conformity with the national character of the Achehnese, still the whole administration of justice now in the hands of these chiefs, and which forms the main source of their revenues, would pass entirely away from their control. The recreations wherein they now delight would be prohibited, and their dignity of office would be transferred to the representatives of the new order of things. It is thus not to be wondered at that the chiefs view the advancement of the "upholders of religion" with inward vexation and alarm.

With alarm, because they have no means of offering a fair and open resistance to these rivals of theirs. For the Achehnese are all convinced, and freely admit, that their customs and institutions are full of maʿsiët (wickedness), and that some reform of their way of life is highly necessary. They also believe that it is not so much by committing maʿsiët as by defending it that a man abjures the true faith and becomes an infidel. How then could an ulèëbalang, even if he wishes to do so for self-preservation's sake, enter the lists as a hostile champion against an expounder of the law, whose professed aim it is to enhance the respect paid to religion? His own people, on whom he can at the best of times place but a conditional reliance, would some of them hold aloof, while others would go over to the enemy.

To rivals such as Teuku Uma, an ulèëbalang, if he be not too weak, can say "keep out of my territory, you have no right to intrude here". The pandit has no territory, or rather his sphere is universal, and he that would hinder his work would be deemed the enemy of God.

The wisest course for the ulèëbalang is therefore either to keep these troublesome rivals at a distance by strategem, or to unite them to his own cause. This latter course succeeds best with the ordinary Achehnese ulamas, who when unburdened by worldly cares generally give pretty free latitude to the adat, and confine themselves to verbal criticism of what they find amiss.

The mass of the people believe in the absolute truth of the ulamas' teaching, yet transgress it continually from their youth up. The ulamas are wont to conceal their aversion to such sins so long as forbidden acts and objects are not obtruded on their notice. The Achehnese even judge these transgressions more severely in themselves than in an ulama who oversteps the bounds of the law. "He", they say, "can always quote some learned text (kawōy) to justify himself, but for us it is different." Honour is paid to the ulamas by the observance of certain respectful forms and by pious gifts.

Where, however, an ulama goes beyond these everyday limits and travels about the country to enforce reform according to the spirit of the law, the respect he inspires increases to the highest degree, unless his life be in gross contrast with his preaching, and his proceedings manifestly dictated by ambition only. Many Achehnese sinners sympathize in the fullest sense with such a revival, while the rest dare not do otherwise than pretend to assent to it. At times indeed a section of the people will range themselves in opposition to such an ulama; not however under an uléébalang, but under another ulama who differs from the first in his interpretation of certain doctrinal points.

The Habib then, as we have already remarked, combined with his knowledge of the world and his sacred descent all those characteristics which in the long run render the energetic ulama in Acheh the irresistable rival of the chiefs.

"Policy of "the Habib."Under his leadership a crusade was quickly inaugurated against ram and cock fighting, gambling, opium smoking, paederasty and other illicit intercourse, while the people were strongly urged to the fulfilment of their principal religious duties, as for example the five daily seumayangs or services of prayer.

In the preliminaries to the carrying out of his programme the Habib at once showed himself a competent politician. The opium-smokers were not tracked down to their most secret dens, but only the more public opium-houses were suppressed, and opium smoking in company as practised with various formal observances, especially on the West Coast, was rigourously punished.

One or two marriage alliances with the daughters of powerful chiefs (including the widow of a sultan) strengthened the Habib's position from a wordly point of view, and soon the upholders of the hukōm recognized with joy, and the supporters of the adat with embarrassment, that all others in Acheh were but as dwarfs beside the great ulama.

The balè meuhakamah.The Sultan found himself constrained, after discussion with the most important chiefs, to establish a new kind of court of justice (balè meuhakamah) in which the Habib should decide all questions relating to religion. Here they were confronted by the peculiar difficulty that presents itself in every attempt to establish a modus vivendi between the adat and the religious law. For this law comprehends everything, and no good Mohammedan can or may suggest the advisability of replacing any portion of it by a new system.

In the law of Islam a small place is allotted to the adat, i.e. the different manners and customs of different places, but it does not admit of any special representatives of adat or systems of rules to carry it out. Where recourse is had to laws which are to a great extent based on adat or are called into being by human choice or agreement, this can, as we have seen, be only excused on the ground that the men and the conditions of the present time are too evil to be governed by the holy law.

When this is once recognized, the questions to be brought before the qādhī are strictly defined, and the rest are submitted to secular judges, subject to the proviso that in all cases there shall be an appeal allowed to the sacred law; or else each question is first submitted to the executive, which in certain cases (as for instance rights connected with marriage and inheritance) refers them to the qādhī. Thus the position of affairs though by no means theoretically correct, is practically workable. It is only in rare cases of mutinous behaviour, oppressive injustice or the introduction of objectionable novelties, that the complainants resort to the qādhī crying, "the law of Allah!" In such cases the ecclesiastical judge, dreading this rude intrusion on his usually peaceful life, as often as not absconds in alarm till the storm blows over.

Where a Mohammedan government is compelled to establish a court of justice to deal with all matters connected with the sacred law, there arises of necessity a conflict as to the limits of the functions of such a tribunal. Here again the party of the adat must as a rule yield to that of the hukōm in theory, and can only save itself by having recourse to circuitous methods, or by seeking a reason for abolishing the court thus incautiously instituted.

Such was the case with the balè meuhakamah which the Habib succeeded in forcing from the adat potentates; he drew almost all questions within the purview of this court, and thus robbed the constituted authorities, whom he had made powerless elsewhere by his reforms, of all control in this department also.

Opposition to "the Habib".The following is an example of the strategems which his enemies employed against him. Certain highlanders were instigated to bring before him suits which, if dealt with according to the letter of the sacred law, could never have been brought to a pacific conclusion. The Habib was disposed on such occasions to resort to compromise and to set the spirit of the religious law above the letter. How would it be then when he, the strict reformer, was requested to decide the question "according to the Book of Allah and the sunat of the Prophet?"

The Habib saw through the plot and found means to frustrate it. Seizing one or two of the pretended suitors by their heads, he said "If ye are so anxious for the sunat of the Prophet, go ye first to your homes and apply it to your own faces, dogs that ye be". He referred to their faces being clean shaven in accordance with the Achehnese custom, but in conflict with the sunat. He who in Acheh lets his beard or beard and mustache grow (as many leubès and teungkus do) is said to have adopted "the sunat of the Prophet".

The Habib often resorted to such rough methods with the Achehnese, even with their principal chiefs. If they put in an appearance much later than the time appointed, therein following the custom of the country, or sat or spoke in what an Arab would consider an improper manner, he would smite, kick and even spit upon them by way of correction. What enabled him to act in this high-handed way was the fact that his followers formed a united and active whole, eager for the advancement of his programme, while the opposition presented to the view a disordered and disunited mass, held together by no other motive than their anxiety to maintain the existing order of things.

The Habib also compelled the Achehnese to do what they were powerless to undertake on their own initiative, viz. to carry out useful objects by general coöperation. Not only did he get a new chief mosque (meuseugit raya) erected by public subscription and coöperative labour, but bridges and roads were also put in hand in the same manner.

Wherever internal dissensions broke out among the Achehnese the Habib was quickly on the spot with his trusty followers to compel them to keep the peace.

Further proofs of his political insight are to be seen in his repeated attempts to enter on Acheh's behalf into relations with European powers, even with the Gōmpeuni or Dutch Government. Circumstances made him for a time the leader of the "holy war" against the Dutch, but whenever the opportunity occurred he always showed that he would have greatly preferred some such settlement as would have resulted in peace. In this object he was hindered by mistrust on the side of the Dutch, and on the part of the Achehnese by their childlike confidence in their own invincibility. Placed thus between two fires, he finally longed for repose, which he found in accepting a pension and migrating to Arabia.

The Achehnese now generally regard him as an ambitious traitor and even suspect him of having served as a spy of the Gōmpeuni from the very beginning. Among the proofs which they refer to in support of this theory are included just the very facts which show his superiority to the Achehnese in civilization and political insight. Why, they ask, did he continually urge us to refrain from deceit and treachery in the war with the Infidels? Why, when we had surrounded the Gōmpeuni's fort at Kruëng Raba with a much superior force under his leadership, did he promise a free retreat to the commandant and his men if they surrendered, and forbid us, if the offer were accepted, to raise a hand against the unbelievers? Evidently, they now reply, because even at that time he had a secret understanding with the Gōmpeuni. They cannot comprehend that the Habib's closer insight caused him to give great weight to the impression which his actions would make upon the enemy, a matter to which the Achehnese have always been utterly indifferent.

We have already seen how cleverly the Habib took advantage of that favourite method of discussion, the mupakat, in his intercourse with the Achehnese.

Considering the circumstances, we must admit the success attained by Sayyid Abdurrahman Zahir in the centralization of power under his own control to have been nothing short of prodigious. We have not overstated the personal characteristics of the Habib; yet he has been himself the first to acknowledge that with all his penetration and skill he would never have gained his end, had not his position as a sayyid furnished him with an impregnable basis of action[198].

The fact, too, that after all that had occurred, after he had been branded by so many with the name of traitor and spy, he should still (as he did in 1884) have asked the government as a favour to permit him to return to Acheh and there play his part anew under their supervision and in accordance with their wishes, proves indeed that this man of much experience deemed nothing impossible for a sayyid in Acheh.

Mystic orders.Next to the sayyids we mentioned the mystics as having borrowed a certain degree of authority from religion.

In Acheh, as well as in other parts of the Archipelago, much reverence is paid to the memory of the founders of mystic orders. We have seen how the help of these holy men and especially of Abdul-Qādir Jīlānī is invoked in the prelude of all the sultans' edicts. This sacred name also appears in the curious proceedings which in Acheh are included under the terms liké and ratèb (the equivalents of the Arabic ḍikr and rātib), in the sadati-pantōns etc., and also at the performances called Rapaʾi[199]. At these last Aḥmad Rifāʿi, that master of mysticism from whom they derive their name, is of course always invoked.

The spiritual successors of these founders, who at present teach mystic practices and formulas, also enjoy much respect, but are not very numerous. The tarīqahs so popular in other parts of Sumatra do not flourish in Acheh, though sundry Achehnese hajis have enrolled themselves as members of a tarīqah in Mecca. We can thus here overlook three mystic associations which form so weighty a factor in the religion of other parts of the Archipelago.

Walis, saints of sundry descriptions, known in Acheh as wali or more usually òëlia[200], are exceedingly numerous in that country. We shall meet with them again in reviewing more closely the religious life of the Achehnese. In matters political these departed saints only play a part in so far as they are invoked by the living.

The ulamas.The ulamas, the representatives of learning in the law are of much greater weight in political life than either departed saints or living mystics. We have already touched on their position in our account of "the Habib," who was himself numbered among their guild and owed to that fact a considerable portion of his prestige.

We shall deal in a later chapter with the influence which is in ordinary times exercised by the ulamas over the spiritual life of the Achehnese people, as well as with their lore and the method of their teaching. We may here rest content with observing that Mr. Der Kinderen (pp. 17–18 of his oft-quoted brochure) terribly exaggerates the decline of Mohammedan learning in Acheh. Those who wrote books on theology and law under the wealthy sultans in Banda Achèh, were strangers whose influence outside Acheh was-at least as noticeable as within it. But there are in Acheh at the present time no less than formerly ulamas of native birth who compose works of learning and edification, sometimes in Malay and sometimes in Achehnese.

At the time of the coming of the Dutch to Acheh there were numerous schools throughout the country; and it is a notorious fact that on more than one occasion the students from these schools threw themselves, practically unarmed, upon the bayonets of the Dutch troops.

These were youths inflamed to fanaticism by the teaching they had imbibed in regard to the holy war and the boundless recompense hereafter awaiting the martyr to his creed, without his being called on to render further account of his actions in this world. In estimating their contempt for death, however, we must reflect upon the fact that at that time the most fearful rumours were current in Acheh as to the tortures which would be the lot of anyone who fell alive into the hands of the kafirs.

Strengthening of the ulamas position through the invasion of a non-Mohammedan power.We have already ascertained the grounds of the ulamas' influence and the facility with which they attain their power. It is however of interest, especially in view of the present state of affairs, to consider the reasons for the great improvement in their position arising from the invasion of Acheh by a non-Mohammedan power, and the consequent steady increase of their influence in the conduct of affairs in that country in later years.

The law of Islam and the holy war.The circumstances attending the origin and early development of Islam have rendered it par excellence a militant religion, whose aim was no less than to convert all who held other beliefs or else reduce them to subjection. The teaching of the law, as it moulded itself by degrees, comprises a two fold obligation to activity in the holy war:

1°. The joint and several obligation of the community at large to spread among all others by force of arms, at the bidding of their Chief, the religion or at any rate the sovereignty of the Moslims.

For the fulfilment of this duty the chief of the Mohammedan community should provide by raising a standing army and enrolling volunteers; he must also decide as to the manner in which this programme is to be carried out. Where difficulties arise, this obligation may be reduced to that of defending Moslim interests against the common enemy.

The breaking up of political power in Islam into many separate kingdoms had this result, that in later times no single chief could be pointed to as the universally acknowledged Head of the community. Thus the feeling of responsibility among Mohammedans in general for the fulfilment of this joint and several obligation has grown much more feeble. On the other hand private crusades against infidels undertaken by petty potentates or even leaders of marauding bands find much favour at the present day—if only they be successful—in the eyes of all pious Moslims; whereas such enterprises would formerly have been condemned as an injustifiable usurpation of the rights of the Ruler of the Believers.

Forcible conversion of Dayaks, Bataks and similar races by Mohammedan chiefs is universally approved of and accounted a fulfilment of the joint and several obligation of the Jihad or holy war, as in such cases it would be vain to await the command or authorization of the Lord of all Believers.

2°. The personal obligation resting on all fighting men, nay in some cases even on the non-combatant inhabitants of a Mohammedan country to defend their land to the utmost against the invasion of a non-Mohammedan enemy.

The feeling of Mohammedans as such against all who hold other beliefs, a feeling which finds expression and confirmation in laws of this description, may thus indeed be termed hostile. We encounter it continually in all Moslim countries, but in many of them it has greatly moderated or even entirely disappeared among the governing classes.

Mitigation or extinction of such a hatred towards the infidel is usually based on extensive intercourse with those of other creeds during a long period of time, or else on long habitude to a powerful but not insupportable government by kafirs. What usually occurs is that the majority of statesmen and those who gain a living by trade and industry, gradually forget and practically set aside all the teaching of their religion with regard to infidels; while the scholars and theologians busy themselves with seeking out and collecting texts which transfer to the next world the sharp contrast between Moslim and kafir, and limit, in regard to sublunary matters, the abruptness of this contrast to what is called religion in the narrowest sense of the word.

Among peoples recently converted to Islam, on the contrary, this feeling is usually the first characteristic of Mohammedanism which sinks in to their very marrow, retaining its influence all the longer in proportion to the slowness of their growth in civilization and knowledge of the world.

The requirements of Islam for the conversion of unbelievers are very small, and the new converts to that creed adopt such of its doctrines as soothe their vanity and such of its rules of conduct as are in harmony with their own ancient customs. To these peoples, in whom the savage is as a rule not yet extinct, nothing can be more attractive than the idea that they as Mohammedans are the lords of the world and that all infidels stand far below them, while the privilege or obligation of depriving certain of the latter of life or property merely gives a new turn to their favourite pursuits of fighting and pillage.

The Achehnese view as to infidels.Now among the Achehnese none of the moderating influences just mentioned have ever prevailed to any important extent. They were never before subjected to a foreign supremacy, and being slow to emigrate to other lands and so extend their horizon, they were able to cherish a belief in their own supremacy.

Even Mohammedan strangers such as the Arabs are often vexed by the frank conceit of the Achehnese, who will allow no discussion as to the excellence of their adats and of all their country contains, and the worthlessness of all that belongs to other countries and peoples. From this we may easily conclude how little disposed they are to learn anything from infidels.

Nor were the political relations which Acheh has occasionally formed with foreigners as the result of her trade and for its advancement, of such a nature as to awake any consciousness of inferiority in the Achehnese people. These relations were very transient; not one of the rajas considered himself bound by the concessions of his predecessors, while to their subjects it has always seemed impossible that infidels could possess any rights in Acheh.

A temporary attitude of friendship towards foreigners was confined to the port-kings and those in their immediate neighbourhood. In edicts of the sultans we find strict prohibitions of the harbouring of kafirs by the Achehnese, the only exception to which was in favour of the Hindus, who are regarded as little better than slaves.

When we consider that it is a common saying in Acheh, in spite of the theoretically recognized inviolability of the life and goods of Mohammedan strangers, "I am no Kling who can be slain unavenged", we can imagine how little regard is paid to the life and property of unbelievers who derive no protection either from religion or adat.

The history of the Achehnese has withheld from them the indispensable practical lesson, that Mohammedans may not in fact assail the lives and property of those of other creeds with impunity. Thus appearances favoured a belief in the truth of the teaching of the old adat, which was here in accord with religion; and we cannot wonder that the Achehnese expounders of the law, who had little sympathy with any intercourse between Mohammedans and people of other nations, should have refused absolutely to admit the use or necessity of that remedy of moderation which elsewhere mitigated the strictness of the doctrines regarding infidels.

Here too, just as at Mekka, the special few who through travels in distant countries had formed new opinions regarding the proportion existing between the power of Islam and that of the unbelieving world, kept the results of their experience a secret, as the betrayal of such a spirit would have been laid to their account as heresy or concealed infidelity. Where the people in Great-Acheh or the litoral states refrained for a time from plunder and cheating they did so from a short-sighted conception of personal interest, and never grasped the fact that their truest interests demanded the complete abandonment of such malpractices. We only meet sporadic germs of such a notion among the inhabitants of the coasts.

Infidels who let it be seen that they considered themselves on a level with the Achehnese were objects of universal abhorrence; the rest were regarded as fair game for all manner of deception and cheating, since neither religion nor moral or political insight laid any restraint on such conduct where the infidel was concerned.

This state of things still remains almost unchanged. The fact that such is the case is not mainly attributable to the augmentation of hatred against infidels which was the necessary result of the invasion of a kafir power. Indeed this very invasion gave rise here. and there to a belief in the desirability of forming alliances with other infidel powers. When all efforts to this end proved unsuccessful, those other infidels who would have no relations with the Achehnese save those of commerce, rose in the estimation of that people, while their hatred was concentrated more than ever against the Dutch, who had for years past been the kafirs most detested in Acheh.

Causes of the continuance of this attitude.The cause of the continuance, with but slight change, of these conditions is rather to be sought for in the fact that the Achehnese throughout their twenty years contest with the Dutch have not yet grasped the uselessness of their resistance to the kafirs. For we must always recollect that reason, education and other similar influences gain no hold upon the self-esteem of Mohammedans until they find themselves opposed to irresistable force. Such is the tendency of their doctrine and their practice entirely accords therewith.

The Achehnese constantly express their conviction that they were wrong in ever vacillating for a moment (as they did in the time of General van der Heijden), that Allah is manifestly on their side, and that the Dutch, infidels worn out by defeat after defeat and beset by sickness and other such troubles, must give in at last in spite of their apparently superior strength. Further, they believe that the estimate of infidels that prevailed in Acheh in ancient times is more reliable than the view taken by the people of Meuraʾsa, Gampōng Jawa and the like, according to which the wisest course would be to submit to the first kafir power that came by.

Some were indeed disposed to submission from the very first, and among them the people of Meuraʾsa are generally regarded as having taken the foremost place. Yet even these have maintained au fond their old doctrine in regard to infidels, owing to the ephemeral nature of the impression they have received during the last 20 years of the power of the Gōmpeuni. They add however that they find it too troublesome to put this doctrine in practice owing to the exposed position of their territory. Such a feeling could never have maintained its ground, if the Dutch Government had steadily extended its influence in Acheh and the people of Meuraʾsa had continued as in the beginning to render the greatest services and enjoy the greateet advantages.

Contempt for all infidels.The common parlance of the people serves to illustrate the attitude of the Achehnese towards the Gōmpeuni. In talking to one another they only occasionally employ the name Ulanda (Hollander) the commoner appellation being kaphé (Ach. pronunciation of kafir), which they use without the least ill-will. Furthermore, the Achehnese has two personal pronouns, both of which express the third person for all genders and numbers, jih (ji-), which is employed without distinction, and gòbujan (geu-), which betokens a certain respect for the person spoken of. Yet this honour which is paid as a matter of course to a simple keuchiʾ is regarded as too high for Dutchmen, even for the Governor of Acheh; nay, for the Gōmpeuni itself, which is regarded as the supreme ruler. The title of Tuan beusa or great Tuan (Malay běsar) which the Achehnese apply to the Governor of Acheh carries with it no respect. It is for them a foreign word[201] which they occasionally use to describe high officials of the Gōmpeuni, and which sounds to their ears very much as the "Great Mogul" does to ours.

Even the people of Meuraʾsa and Gampōng Jawa, who have wholly compromised themselves by complete submission, call all Dutch authorities jih and speak without the slighest intention to give offence of the regulations of the kaphé, thus in their common talk denying to the ruling authority even a comparative degree of lawtul right.

I have myself actually experienced a case where in presence of a European official who did not know the language, Achehnese who had submitted unconditionally to Dutch rule spoke of him continually as jih, and the only person in the company who made use of the more polite form geu was an Arab long settled in Acheh.

This state of things is largely due to the fact that the people of Meuraʾsa etc. do not regard our policy and laws as the outcome of common sense but as equally burdensome to friend and foe, so that even though they might in general admit the possibility of a lawful infidel authority (to which in time the title geu might be applied), the Dutch Government could never become such in their eyes. In this connection how- ever it must not be forgotten that the narrow limitations of the Dutch position in Acheh gave the actively hostile party the control over the the common talk, over the views generally expressed as to the situation as well as the situation itself. Even had a favourable opinion existed in Meuraʾsa and other places which tendered their submission to the Dutch, it would have been speedily silenced by this hostile influence.

From the very commencement, the peacefully inclined exposed themselves to the hatred of their fellow-countrymen by their attitude during the first and second expeditions. After the excursions of General van der Heijden the feeling towards them began to amend, but later on and especially at the present time [1891–92] it has become unfavourable in the highest degree.

The same is true of such of the chiefs beyond the linie or pale as have entered into relations with the Gōmpeuni. As long as it is known or supposed that their conciliatory attitude merely serves as a cloak to cover deceit or a means to attain some fixed purpose, mistrust is silent. If a chief succeeds in this manner in obtaining a yearly pension, without rendering any real service to the 'kafirs', his action is esteemed most sensible. But as soon as ever he is suspected of being in earnest, he loses his good name among his country men, since it is held that in existing circumstances nothing compels him to conciliation.

I once heard a chief from beyond the linie who came occasionally within it, complain in the presence of a mixed company that others received yearly allowances while he got none. Hereupon some one expressed a doubt as to the value of the services he had rendered to the Gōmpeuni; to which he replied that he only wanted yearly pension as compensation for the evil name which his relations with the Dutch Government had procured him. "And of a truth" said he, "I cannot now as I formerly could, point to the superior power of the Gōmpeuni as my justification!"

This is sufficient to show that the hatred or at least the contempt felt for all others than Mohammedans in Acheh still prevails in the fullest force; this hatred and the respect paid to the persons who are in one way or another the representatives of religion, are the two principal elements of Mohammedanism which are engrained in the very nature of the Achehnese.

The teaching of Islam in regard to the "holy war" thus finds a strong support in the character of this people and in the most popular ingredients of their creed. In more civilized Mohammedan states war has grown to be governed more and more according to the principles universally acknowledged by civilized nations, and the "holy war" is merely a watchword appealed to in certain circles to excite sympathy and devotion. In Acheh on the other hand real use is made of the fanatical doctrine of the jihād, which is readily exaggerated to the detriment of the kafirs, while those gentler tenets which the "believer" finds too difficult of attainment are simply set on one side.

Course of events extremely favourable to the ulamas.The progress of the Achehnese war has proved extremely favourable to the ulamas and their class.

Chance willed that the conflict should begin at the identical conjuncture when the whole of Acheh was subjected to the influence of "the Habib", The adat-chiefs had at that moment once more received a severe lesson from the teungkus and their adherents. The absence of Habib Abdurrahman at the time of the first hostile movements of the Dutch against Acheh rendered the organisation of the Achehnese still more defective than it might otherwise have been. Yet not even he, had he been present, would have succeeded in maintaining the necessary harmony and (what was most important of all) the necessary discipline. It is questionable whether a capacity for generalship lurked among his numerous talents; but in reviewing his career we must always recollect that this man, elevated in so many respects above the common standard of the Achehnese, was never influenced by a belief in the power of Acheh for continued resistance.

The beginning. A national war.Be this as it may, he was absent at the outbreak of hostilities. The contest between the Achehnese and the Gōmpeuni was from the very first a national war. This followed as a matter of course from the state of popular feeling which we have just described, coupled with their universal skill in the use of arms. But it was an Achehnese national war, that is to say one in which unity of conduct and fixity of plan were entirely wanting.

Many there were who sought the coveted death of martyrs to their creed, selling their lives as dearly as they could. Sometimes they fought in separate bands and sometimes they joined the standards of those adat-chiefs who took the most zealous part in the defence of the capital, such as the Imeum of Luëng Bata.

This Imeum [he died in the year 1901 during the military operations in Samalanga| was a rare phenomenon among the dealing with men. Like most of his fellows he sought to be foremost at fights of animals, gambling parties and sanguinary internal forays. At the same time he possessed those qualities whereby an Achehnese may rise to be an ulèëbalang though not entitled to such a position by his birth. Continually surrounded by boys, he complied with their demands for the repair of their kites and toys as generously as with those of his followers when they begged him to put the requisite fine edge or polish on their weapons. In battle and arduous toil he always encouraged the others by his own example, and at the sharing of profit or spoil he forgot no one. Dissolute though his life was when viewed from a religious standpoint, he was unsurpassed in his hatred of the infidel, while not behind the majority of his countrymen in his reverence for saints and ulamas.

Mistake of hereditary chiefs.The great defect in most of the hereditary chiefs consisted and still consists in this, that their religious and political convictions never impel them to action on behalf of Acheh; they wait as long as possible to see whether their own territory will be threatened. Even where some responded to the repeated calls for help by coming to the rescue with their followers, they were unable to hold the latter together and the auxiliary force soon melted away. For it is an evil custom with most of the Achehnese chiefs when they call out their subjects for a distant expedition, to make little or no proper provision for their maintenance on the journey or in the foreign territory which is their objective. The obvious result is that even the most frugal and kafir-hating Achehnese soon abandon a contest with superior forces under such circumstances.

Hereditary chiefs, newly created panglimas and devout volunteers organized their bands of fighting men as well as they knew how, but complaints were rife of the inconsiderable levies sent up by the people of Pidië and the highlanders with all their vaunted courage. Meanwhile in the Dalam old cannons were dug up out of the ground and loaded with an extraordinary collection of projectiles, which on various occasions proved more fatal to the Achehnese gunners than to the soldiers of the Gōmpeuni.

In the beginning the trust of the Achehnese in God's help seemed now and then to be justified. Where they met with reverses the representatives of religion were ever ready with their explanation. "He that will carry on a holy war with assurance of victory must begin," said they, "by turning from all his iniquities.' Small wonder that Allah did not always cause the arms of Acheh to be victorious since he had so much maʿsiët (trangression) to visit on the people. When the Habib returned from his travels and assumed the leadership of the resistance to the Dutch, the ulamas pointed with satisfaction to every additional success achieved. Here was one who carried on the war according to the rules of the sacred books, while the adat chiefs knew nought of them and spent their spare time in forbidden pleasures.

Finally there came severe lessons; in particular, the marches of the Dutch troops through the highlands established the conviction that further resistance was impossible. The "sons of the upper reaches of the river" bragged no more but took to flight; the most determined opponents of the invaders retired to distant hiding-places. The Habib was only too glad to bargain for a handsome yearly allowance in consideration of his submission. After a short time neither the fanatical ulamas nor the ambitious guerilla leaders could any longer check the flow of population to the lowland districts and the capital itself. Prices had risen, and there was much to be earned from the kafirs by those who laid down their arms.

We must always recollect that hatred of the infidel is never, any more than any other passion or inclination, the sole ruling motive of a nation.

With peoples like the Achehnese, various causes have combined to make this hatred a habit, which however may be controlled by superior force and unlearnt through continued intercourse; and in this intercourse freedom of trade and some much-needed reforms in the administration of justice are important factors.

The prince of all breadwinning.Every Achehnese knows and approves the proverb "Agriculture is the prince of all (methods of) breadwinning"[202]. A nation holding this opinion and having besides no political unity would, if taken in the mass, be certainly disinclined to maintain a fruitless resistance which would kill their staple industry. Yet it may by a combination of circumstances be partly incited and partly driven to take part in such opposition.

Guerilla leaders.As the territory invested by the Dutch presently became reduced to narrower limits, the party of irreconcilables, which was now in a minority, was inspired with fresh life. Those who for the time being acted as organizers of resistance were for the most part the energetic adventurers of whom we recognize a type in Teuku Uma. The latter, as well as the members of the family of the Imeum of Luëng Bata and others saw in the prevailing confusion a chance of essaying their fortune.

We must not take a onesided view of the motives of these guerilla leaders. Without doubt a disordered state of affairs is favourable to the attainment of their purpose, even though it may not arise from the invasion of an infidel power. It gives them a chance to gain adherents, and, if all goes well, to attain a degree of power such as compels the respect of the inactive hereditary chiefs. Nor is the religious element lacking even in their case, for we must always recollect that no single Achehnese has any doubt of the meritorious character of the struggle with the Gōmpeuni, a belief shared even by those who are least inclined to risk their lives for the cause.

The raw material from which these chiefs recruited their bands was of a very varied description. Vagrants without visible means of subsistence, who in ordinary circumstances supply their needs in the way of rice and opium through theft or (especially in the highlands and sparsely populated districts of the West Coast) through murder and rapine, could choose nothing better than to turn from their evil ways and pursue their old trade under an honourable name, with the certain expectation of plunder or an incomparable recompense after death. Among the religious students some are always to be found who are inspired by their teachers with a desire to become shahīds or martyrs to the faith. The younger men in the gampōngs are also subject to the incentives of hot blood passion for the glory of battle. Where the war is against an infidel enemy even their parents cannot withhold them from what all believe to be a pious task.

These bands, however, are too much wanting in organization to remain long on foot unless constant encounters give them the chance of getting plunder. Where this fails they are strong enough to compel the people of the gampōngs in their neighbourhood to provide for their maintenance; but this soon creates disgust, all the more because these troops are not as a rule distinguished by a godly life, except as champions against the infidel.

Rise of the ulamas.Here it is that the ulamas have their golden opportunity for making their influence felt. While allowing all credit to the guerilla leaders for their endeavours to cause loss to the infidels, the ulamas can—nay are bound by the text of their sacred books to point out that such leaders can lay no effective claim to general coöperation. The war ordained of Allah must be waged in conformity with His decree.

The finances of the holy war and the manner of their administration.Allah himself has indicated in his holy law the sources from which the cost of the holy war should be defrayed. Part of the provision must be made from the revenues which the Moslim state derives from unbelievers, and a portion of the religious tax zakāt (Ach. jakeuët) must be specially set aside for this purpose. Strenuous appeals must also be made for increased voluntary contributions, emphasis being laid on the great reward that hereafter awaits those who have sacrificed life or property for the holy cause. But the troops must refrain from levying contributions on the villages in whose neighbourhood they are encamped, for on such acts no blessing can rest.

The manner of distribution of the spoils is also strictly defined in the law; disregard of these regulations will render the offenders liable both to defeat at the hands of their enemies and also to the visitations of God's wrath.

Finally there can be no success where small bodies of troops act without central organization. There must be leaders to supervise the whole and keep a watch over the faith and all who hold thereby in the beleaguered land.

The Raja of Acheh is almost a negligable factor so far as the position of his country is concerned. The ulèëbalangs, the true chiefs of the country, indolently shut themselves up, each within his own landmarks, and are incapable of united action. The leaders of the bands of volunteers fall short of the conditions which must be fulfilled by commanders in the holy war. Thus, say the ulamas, it is on us that the duty rests of regulating the conduct of the jihād.

The "concentration" policy the beginning of the period of the ulamas' influence.Such and the like was the train of reasoning on which was based the development of the power of Teungku Tirò and his coöperators or rivals. Their influence grew little by little, but if asked to name a starting-point we should say that the period of the ulamas began with the so-called policy of concentration of the Dutch. Hitherto they had remained somewhat in the back-ground; hence forward they became the real leaders of the war.

It was then that their voices were raised more audibly than before in reproach of the ulèëbalangs for their inaction and of the people of the gampōngs for setting the earthly reward above the heavenly, for being backward in the work of reform and for lending but little assistance to the fighters. "Your former pretext" said they, "of the difficulty of contending against a superior force has now proved itself a mockery."

Each energetic ulama travelled to and fro in the sphere where he possessed or hoped to acquire influence, proclaiming with renewed vehemence the principles of the holy war. The better to prepare for the great work, ruinous mosques were to be repaired, religious worship held in high esteem, and the transgressions of the people checked. The godless pleasures of the Achehnese must come to an end.

They did not indeed require military service of every villager, but all had to hold themselves ready to lend assistance in case of need to the bands of volunteers posted in various places. They had also to be constantly prepared to assist in the construction of the kutas or forts occupied by these bands, to acquaint them with any danger that might threaten, to provide for their needs, and take before the teungku under whose jurisdiction they were, all complaints as to their behaviour.

These ulamas are in some respects more interesting to us than the sayyids. The former have not it is true that impregnable character which the latter borrow from their birth, and their prestige depends more largely on the respect which they personally inspire; they are also, as being Achehnese, more easily involved in party quarrels. But sayyids or other foreigners who are able and willing to play a political part in Acheh are only chance phenomena and not necessary components of Achehnese society, of which the ulamas form an indispensable element. The notable example of "the Habib", too, has proved that strangers are prone to abandon the cause when the fire grows too hot for them.

Teungku Tirò was par excellence a leader from the time of the "concentration" till the day of his death.

Tirò, a gampōng in Pidië, owes its reputation partly to the teaching in sacred subjects of which it is the seat, and partly to the number of distinguished ulamas whom it has produced. The latter, if not drawn elsewhere by marriages with women of other gampōngs, returned to their native place in their declining years, so that many of them lie buried there. To the sanctity of their tombs and the constant presence of influential ulamas the place owes the peculiar privileged position generally designated by the word bibeuëh[203].

Here the neighbouring chiefs have made over to the ulamas the maintenance of law and order, so that the adat has in this place had much less significance than elsewhere. These same chiefs have made no claim on the services of the people, they have respected Tirò as a place of refuge for such as had become involved in internal feuds, and refrained from hostilities in the neighbourhood of its meunasah. Even members of hostile parties could meet one another there without fear of a disturbance.

The most prominent ulama of the time in Tirò, to distinguish him from the other teungkus in the place, was usually called Teungku Chiʾ (the Old) and was elsewhere known simply as Teungku di Tirò or Teungku Tirò. As a rule blood relations or collaterals succeeded each other in this position.

When Teungku Tirò Muhamat Amin (the then Teungku Chiʾ di Tirò) died in December 1885, he was succeeded by his collateral relative Chèh Saman (Shaikh Sammān) who had long been his righthand man. As the son of the deceased, although a good scholar, was still too young to take his father’s place, the designation of the Teungku Tirò passed to Teungku Saman.

Favoured by the progress of the war, this man gained for himself a unique position. We have already seen how the chab sikureuëng of the Sultan could do no more than set the stamp of officialdom on the power he had already won. The authority given him over religious questions in Great Acheh was just as vague as the definition of the judicial power of the Habib at the establishment of the balè meuhakamah[204], and gave equally free play to the natural course of affairs. Teungku Tirò did not concern himself about the insignificant Sultan, nor, except in so far as was absolutely necessary, about the ulèëbalangs. As the representative of religious law he could assume full powers, and none dared to show him open hostility[205].

In his letters to the Dutch Government Teungku Tirò always tried to show the superiority of the power of the ulamas. In one of his pamphlets he expresses his astonishment that the Gōmpeuni were from the very commencement so eager to obtain concessions from the Sultan. It should, he says, have been remembered that the Sultan could do nothing without consulting Teuku Kali, Teuku Nèʾ of Meuraʾsa, the Panglima Meuseugit Raya and the Imeum of Luëng Bata; that these four were in their turn dependent upon the decision of the three panglimas of the sagis; that the latter had no power without the acquiescence of the seven kawōms (the traditional expression[206] for the Achehnese people); and that the people themselves could only act in accordance with the determination of the ulamas, who derive their knowledge from Allah and his Apostle.

The war-chest.Teungku Tirò knew as well as anyone that money is the life and soul, even of the holy war. He pushed on with the utmost zeal the collections of the haʾ sabi (ḥaqq sabīl) i. e. the portion of the tax callad zakāt set apart for the holy war. He urged all the chiefs at least to give him money contributions towards the good cause, even if they would take no personal part in the conflict. Whoever appeared backward in this duty became exposed to the enmity of the Teungku's followers. When the adat chiefs protested, his answer was that he was desirous of giving full weight to their adat qualifications; but these he never defined, and always submitted any questions that arose to the test of the religious law. He denied that he wished to deprive them of a handsbreadth of their territory, but as the representative of religion he required of their subjects a strict obedience to the law of Allah.

At that particular juncture these subjects cherished especial respect and fear for the ulamas, feelings which were not as at ordinary times counterbalanced by other circumstances. It was thus that the Teungku succeeded without difficulty in obtaining the control of a never-empty coffer for the purposes of the war. No ulèëbalang would have ever so much as conceived the idea of establishing such a treasure-chest, replenished by contributions from the whole of Great Acheh and a great part of the dependencies in the North, East and West Coasts.

Given money, men are not lacking in Acheh. The Teungku's troops, it is true, were formed in part of those very vagrant elements which had formerly supplied Teuku Asan, Teuku Uma etc. with their fighting men, but each recruit was first duly "converted" by the Teungku, strictly drilled and subjected to a better discipline than suited these so-called panglimas. Thus he raised a sort of standing army, and took care at the same time always to have a well-armed reserve of gampōng men.

At the same time he maintained his influence over the people by making constant journeys and holding at his halting-places great kanduris or religious feasts, at which there was no lack of exhortations. Even during his life time he was revered by many as a saint, and in order to satisfy the demand for "ajeumat" (= charms) he was obliged in the end to have a stamp made bearing a mystic delineation of the Prophet's sandal; this he impressed on slips of paper for those who demanded a blessing.

Envy of the Teungku's power.
THE SEAL-AMULET OF THE LATE TEUNGKU TIRÒ.
We must however be on our guard against exaggerated ideas of the unanimity of the Achehnese under "The Teungku". It was not alone the adat-chiefs who witnessed the supremacy of this ulama with ill-concealed annoyance; among the members of his own guild also there were not wanting envious detractors. During his lifetime the opposition of the latter was much restricted, indeed hardly noticeable by the uninitiated; now that he has been some years dead (he died in 1891) we can easily gather how jealousy may at times have thwarted his purposes. The principal rivals of Teungku Tirò were the active Habib Samalanga [died in December 1901] and Teungku Kutakarang.

Habib Samalanga.The Habib of Samalanga, who originally had his residence in the district of that name, was a sayyid born in Acheh and thus of less consideration than those who came direct from Arabia. His learning must have been below the average and would never have excited remark had it not been for his religious nobility. He came to Great Acheh in order to take part in the direction of the jihād, especially in the XXVI Mukims. Just like Teungku Tirò in his sphere of action, he here gathered in the haʾ sabi and other contributions to meet the expenses of the war.

In order to appear in the eyes of his followers as at least the equal and if possible the superior of "the Teungku", he had to distinguish himself from the latter in some particular way. This he did; his specialty was tapa[207] or seclusion from the world. He would remain isolated (kaleuët) for from seven to forty successive days in a cave at the source of the Kruëng (river) Darōy, a place which was from ancient times chosen for such devotions[208].

His followers had also occasionally to submit to a similar course of tapa; it was in fact one of the ordinary punishments imposed by him for various offences.

Opinions of the teungkus in respect to the Achehnese within the linie.Habib Samalanga also differed from Teungku Tirò in his opinions respecting those Achehnese who either lived within the linie or went thither to trade.

During the greater portion of the period of his activity "the Teungku" declared such persons to be little better than unbelievers, and did not raise a hand in protest when his troops robbed them of their property or even of their life. He refrained indeed from giving open orders in this spirit, since he would have had in that case to reckon with ulèëbalangs of distinction who were guilty of the same offence. Still his views were generally known, and when certain of the chiefs implored him to deter his troops from slaying their fellow-Mohammedans even though they lived or had intercourse within the linie, he used always to change the subject with some meaningless remark.

It was only when Teuku Uma had convinced him that it was in many respects desirable[209] for the chiefs and notables within the linie to keep in touch with the court, that he at length changed his tactics. Causing these Keumala pilgrims to appear before him, he received them in a friendly manner, and said that under existing circumstances he would only urge them in a general way to an increase of religious zeal, and would place no obstacle in the way of their journeys to Keumala.

Habib Samalanga on the other hand consistently taught that all submission to or intercourse with the infidels was a sin, though not one which made the offender a complete outlaw. Whoever was brought before him convicted of this sin, was condemned to isolation in the cave, there to do penance for some days and prepare himself for conversion from his heresy.

After the death of Teungku Tirò, the friends of Habib Samalanga succeeded in obtaining for him from the court a nine-fold seal similar to that which had been in the possession of the deceased ulama. This chab sikureuëng could not not however raise this sayyid to the elevation which Teungku Tirò had attained without any such symbol of authority.

Teungku Kutakarang.Another rival of Teungku Tirò was Teungku Kutakarang, an active and clever but peculiar man.

Many years ago, before the coming of the Dutch to Acheh, his eagerness to pose as the teacher of doctrines different from those of the majority of Achehnese ulamas, made him in many circles the object of hatred or ridicule. He was always trying to entice away the disciples of others, and his own decisions on points of law were of so strange a character that he was once banished from the capital in the sultan's name.

The war gave him the opportunity, especially after the "concentration" of trying his fortune afresh. At first he worked side by side with or even under the leadership of Teungku Tirò, to whom he found himself constrained now and then to pay homage in public. In the circle of his intimates, however, he spoke contemptuously of the great man as Leubè[210] Saman, criticising his rules and decisions, and certainly felt but little sorrow at the death of that honoured and dreaded ulama.

Probably more from love of contradiction than from conviction, he taught that relations with those within the linie were not sinful, nay should even be encouraged. Such intercourse, he urged, is a source of profit to many, and moreover it gives an opportunity of inciting both Achehnese and foreign Mohammedans within the linie to disaffection; enterprizing persons can under colour of peaceful purposes strike their blow within the enemy's lines, plunder and slay and then retreat in safety.

Those ulamas departed from these and the like opinions whenever it served their purpose; at the least they pretended not to notice when others failed to adhere to them. It was as a rule only unimportant points of difference in their view to which their mutual disfavour gave a stronger significance.

Thus Teungku Tirò taught that the prohibition of Moslim law against the wearing of gold or silk (a rule universally transgressed in Acheh) applied also to combatants in the holy war, and that the latter must especially refrain from that offence, as the conversion from sin which was the guarantee of their success would otherwise be incomplete. Teungku Kutakarang on the other hand decreed that no such rules had any application to the warriors of Allah, and carried his opposition so far as to insist on their wearing gold and silk so that the Dutch, finding these costly objects on the bodies of the slain, might be dismayed by the wealth of Acheh which defied all reverses.

Another peculiar tenet of Teungku Kutakarang was that under existing circumstances the Friday service (which is universally performed in Arabic) should in Acheh be preferably celebrated in the Achehnese tongue.

Again, in opposition to Teungku Tirò, who laid great stress on good works (building of mosques, public worship etc.), Teungku Kutakarang classed all these as mere "louse-questions", for which the "elephant" that lay in the path should not be neglected. He described as misspent all the money that Teungku Tiròt lavished on kanduris and on the repair of chapels; it should have been utilized to erect forts (kuta) all along the linie, and to fit out a fleet to harass the enemy by sea as well as land.

He also teaches great forbearance for the faults of the combatants in the holy war. He tries to prove by examples from the sacred tradition and from history that much indulgence must be extended to them, as many sins are forgiven them in consideration of their noble work. Teungku Kutakarang thus caused the fighting men who lodged with him at times while reposing from their restless occupation to be treated as distinguished guests. Contrary to Achehenese custom they sat at table upon chairs, and water was set before them in glasses in place of brass drinking-vessels.

Finally he was at much pains to enhance the repute of the "pepper saint", Teungku Lam Keuneuʾeun, whose tomb in the gampōng of the same name in the IX Mukims has always been revered as sacred. He delighted to call himself the servant of the tomb of this Teungku, by whose miraculous power the pepper-plant originated in Acheh. Teungku Kutakarang lives in the neighbourhood of that tomb and so of course becomes the recipient of the numerous gifts dedicated thereto.

The conduct of affairs after Teungku Tirò's death.The complete establishment of Teungku Kutakarang's power properly dates from the death of Teungku Tirò. The latter had no successor in the true sense of the word; his son, the wellknown guerilla leader Mat or Maʾ Amin, by no means followed in his father's footsteps.

Teunglu Mat Amin.In view of existing circumstances his father had deemed it wiser to train him up as a soldier than as a pandit, for which latter career he possessed little capacity or inclination. He mastered however as much religious learning as every person of ordinary piety requires to know, and was always distinguished by the title teungku as being the son of the great ulama. As a matter of fact, however, he was a guerilla chief and nothing else, and borrowed from the great authority which his father's name everywhere inspired an influence which raised him to the position of chief panglima.

In this capacity he and his bands proved a great burden to the people, and his life was in other respects also far from harmonizing with the teaching of his father. The story goes that during the last years of the latter's life Mat Amin lived openly with another man's wife, and that Teungku Tirò, to give him a severe lesson, forbade him access to his presence. This appears to have so enraged the young man, that he brooded over some device to rid him of this tiresome father. When Teungku Tirò, while still in the full vigour of life, suddenly fell ill, he is said to have expressed the conviction that poison had been administered to him by some agent of his son.

Notwithstanding this he had Mat Amin summoned to his bedside when dying, and solemnly warned him to go to the devout ulamas for advice, and to forsake his evil ways. He seemed however to realize how little chance there was of his son’s ever proving his true successor in any respect.

The latter was not wont to hearken to advice. In his dress he assumed the character of an ulèëbalang, and while his father, in receiving distinguished guests, always rose to meet them, the young man would remain sitting until they came up to him. Even the Achehnese consider Mat Amin proud, ignorant and headstrong, and when after his father's death he gave the rein more than ever to his evil passions, the great body of the adherents of Teungku Tirò at once melted away[211].

"Exhortation to the inactive."Teungku Kutakarang then roused himself to greater activity. He circulated, under the Arabic title Taḍkirat-ar-rākidīn (exhortation to the inactive) an enlarged and amended edition of a number of politico-religious pamphlets which were already known within a narrower circle. Therein he proclaims in the common Achehnese metre the principles we have sketched above, and seeks to rouse the people to better organization and increased energy. In this work, of which I have succeeded in obtaining three copies, the Dutch are represented as outcasts of humanity whose aim is the destruction of the countries over which they hold sway; while at the same time attention is drawn to their powerlessness in respect to Acheh.

The Achehnese, he proceeds, are well able to expel the Dutch; even the very babes are best appeased by being offered a sword as a toy. The country is rich enough in munitions of war and wants nothing but good generalship.

The Sultan he hardly mentions. He only employs the similitude of the marriage of the Sultans with the State of Acheh[212] to give point to the remark that a bridegroom who will not lift a finger to save his bride from the stranger is unworthy of her.

The ulèëbalangs, he continues, hold no consultation with the ulamas as they ought to do; they think only of their own particular interests and by reason of the "louse questions" (so runs the Teungku's favourite metaphor) which cause disruption between them, they see not the "elephant" which threatens the whole nation.

The people of the gampōngs are also to blame, for many of them imitate the inactivity of the ulèëbalangs and withdraw from all share in that most solemn of obligations, the jihad, on the pretext that this duty rests not on the individual but on the community in general. Some entrust their money contributions to the wrong hands (here he alludes to his rivals), others let themselves be won over by the money of the infidels to keep the ground clear round their line of forts.

He prophesies woe to the Achehnese within the linie who have submitted to the Gōmpeuni, so soon as the infidel shall have been driven out. All now depends on the chab limòng[213], on the force of the sword.

Even the ulamas come in for a share of the blame for the slow progress of affairs. Some of them sit on their prayer-carpets or lose their senses over ascetic exercises—alluding to the Teungku's rival Habib Samalanga, who is not however mentioned by name. Others devote themselves to the repair of mosques far away from the scene of the war, and hold great kanduris or religious feasts, squandering the money subscribed for the war on purposes for which it was never intended. Here he refers to Teungku Tirò. They forget the main issue and are partly to blame for the reverses which come upon the country. The collection of the sabil monies should be made by concerted arrangement, and a central treasury established (of course with Teungku Kutakarang as its administrator) in the neighbourhood of the theatre of war. Provision should also be made for attacking by sea the enemy whom they could already meet on equal terms on land.

Repose-loving ulamas.This short précis of the contents of the pamphlets of Teungku Kutakarang taken in connection with our previous remarks shows that even among the ulamas there prevailed a spirit of discord.

Some there are also among them who in spite of the indignant remonstrances of their more ambitious colleagues, hold themselves aloof from all this useless bickering and behave as though no jihād existed. Such for instance is Teungku Tanòh Mirah, the learned kali of the IV Mukims of the VII of the XXVI. And at the time when the Dutch still occupied a great portion of Acheh, the example of Chèh Marahaban[214], the earlier kali raja and ulama of Teuku Kali showed clearly enough that some of them would have been quite willing to change sides if they could only have found conclusive arguments strong enough to counterbalance the contumely attending such a step.

Still, in spite of all their dissensions and lack of good guidance, it is certain that the ulamas have become more and more the masters of the situation. They have succeeded without difficulty in diverting the allegiance of the subjects of the ulèëbalangs, and have acquired more influence in their territories than they themselves possess. They constitute the party of action, the chiefs that of inaction. They stand forth in the name of Allah, the chiefs in the name of an adat which, so far as it relates to government and the administration of justice, is very far from finding favour in the eyes of the people. Disobedience to them leads to misery in this world and the next, while the ulèëbalang has only power to make life unpleasant to the refractory within the limits of his own district[215].

Next to the ulamas, chiefs such as Teuku Uma play the most important part, but they do not form the soul of the movement of resistance. They have other objects in view than the holy war, objects which they would if necessary gladly avail themselves of our help to attain. Adat-chiefs have, it is true, occasionally risen superior to their inactivity, but this was due to the fact that the ulamas had for years taken the lead and they thus feared to find themselves deprived of all authority.

What the Dutch have had opposed to them in Acheh is not a Keumala party (such has never existed) nor disconnected bands of marauders, but a national pasty, so far as that is possible in Acheh, held together and organized by the ulama.

These ambitious men have the greatest interest in the continuance of hostilities. Indeed their material power is based on the sabil-contributions which the religious law empowers them to levy. These collections would abruptly cease if there were no infidels to fight against, and their enemy could do these ulamas no greater injury than by a complete evacuation of Acheh. The adat-chiefs would then bestir themselves to recover their former position, which would be an easy task under the altered circumstances. The ulamas would have to fall back upon their studies and their teaching, and only a few of exceptional talent and energy would succeed in attaining a measure of authority as moral reformers.

Peace-loving elements of the population.A large portion of the populace would rejoice at being set free from their yoke, for as we have repeatedly observed, their authority is based as much on dread as on reverence.

There are many who desire to pursue in peace their normal occupations, and especially agriculture, the "prince of all bread-winning", without being harassed by sabil-contributions or compelled to serve among the reserve of fighting men. There are many too who perceive the ambitious motives underlying the activity of the ulamas, even though they believe in the truth of their preaching. Behind the ulamas there stands it is true a national party, but by no means the whole nation.

In this sense we can justly speak of the Dutch as having friends and enemies among the Achehnese. The friends are the great mass of those whose interests are largely identical with those of the invading power, while the enemies are unappeasable fanatics spurred on by the ulamas, whose power can alone be maintained by the continuance of disorder.

It would of course be folly to expect to find real friends among a people who in their traditions know the Dutch only as enemies, and who find in the present state of affairs no satisfactory reason for casting in their lot with them. It is certain however that a great and substantial portion of the people of Acheh would rejoice at the complete destruction of the party of the ulamas, which now holds in its hands the reins of power. And in such an event, these ulamas would in accordance with the teaching of their own sacred books be obliged to meet their fate with resignation, hard though it might be.

The latest Achehnese epic.Indirectly this state of things is rather well illustrated by a heroic poem now very popular in Acheh, celebrating the chief events of the war against the Dutch. We shall describe it at length in our chapter on literature.

The poet is a full-blooded Achehnese. He sang of the war with the Gōmpeuni to enliven the evenings and nights of the inhabitants of the gampōngs by chanting his epic for a fair recompense. It is of course not free from abuse of the Dutch; mockery and insult of every kind are heaped upon them, while the heroic deeds of the Achehnese are extolled beyond measure.

What is most striking is the fairly objective tone pervading the poem, which is fashioned according to the more ancient models. The animation at the capital after the expeditions of the Dutch troops through the XXII Mukims and the influx of Achehnese eager for a share of the profits are described almost as sympathetically as the deeds of the heroes and martyrs of Acheh. There is decided humour in the description of a great kanduri (religious feast) given by Teungku Tirò, where the assembled guests were chased away by the bullets of the Dutch soldiers at the very moment when the preparations for the repast were completed. The fanatical elements in the poem may be fairly attributed to the force of custom. Those who take pleasure. in listening to the recital of such poems are not intractable, but are subject to the control of a party more powerful than all the conservative elements of their society taken together.


Appendix to chapter I.

Translation of the letters patent with the ninefold seal granted by the Pretender to the Sultanate to the Panglima Meuseugit Raya.
(See pp. 129 seqq. above).

At the top of the document stands in the middle the latest chab sikureuëng, an engraving of which has been given above.

It consists as we have seen (p. 129 seqq.) of one large circle surrounded by eight smaller ones. The large circle contains the following inscription:

"May Allah give good guidance unto His Majesty Sultan ʿAlauʾddin (pronounced in Ach. Alaédin) Muhamad Daud Shah Juhan (pronounced in Ach. Muhamat Dawōt Shah Juhan) the Blessed, the shadow of Allah in the world 1296" (i. e. 1879, the year of his election us Sultan).

In the smaller circles surrounding this appear the names of the following Sultans.

Sultan Sayyidi al-Mukammal (pron. in Ach. Sidi Meukamay) i. e. Alaédin al Qahhar (Kha) who reigned from 1530 to 1552 or 1557 or thereabouts[216].

Sultan Meukuta Alam i.e. Iskandar Muda 1607–36.

Sultan Tajul-alam i, e. Sapiatōdīn, the first sultana, 1639 or 1641–1675.

Sultan Ahmat Shah, the first prince of the present dynasty 1723 or 1726–1735.

Sultan Fuhan Shah 1735–60.

Sultan Malmut Shah 1781–1795.

Sultan Jauhar Alam Shah 1802–24.

Sultan Manṣur (Mansō) Shah 1838–70.

The first four of these names recur on most of the nine-fold seals of the Sultans. They are those of the rulers to whom the former prosperity of Acheh and her adat-institutions are generally ascribed.

The others vary according to the taste of each of the sultans, who decide for themselves the contents of their seals[217].

To the right of the nine-fold chab is to be seen the small oblong private seal of the sultan. This is regarded as more or less establishing the legality of the large seal, and bears the words as-Sultan Muhamat Dawōt Shah.

In the left hand top corner of the document is written al-mustaḥiqq (pron. in Ach al-mòseutahaʾ) the "rightful possessor" by which expression Tuanku Muhamat Dawōt makes known his claims to the throne of Acheh.

Less weighty documents which are not considered worthy of the ninefold seal exhibit in its place a single seal of the sultan, an engraving of which has also been given. Round its border run the words "Allah" and "His word is the truth and to him belongeth dominion". In the centre appears "This is His Majesty Sultan Alaédin Muhamat Dawōt Shah Juhan, the Blessed, Allah's shadow in the world".

This seal is also ratified by the addition of the small oblong one. It is used for example in the letters of recommendation given by the Sultan to his messengers, to foreign traders etc.

The letters patent given to the Panglima Meusigit Raya are composed in a mixture of Malay and bad Arabic, of which the following is a translation:

"In the year of the Hijrah of the Prophet (may Allah bless him and grant him peace!) one thousand three hundred and seven, on the 4th day of the month Rabiʿ al-Awwal, being Monday[218], with the help of Allah the omniscient King, and with the blessing of the Prophet, the Lord of Men, and of his four companions, which be Abu Bahr, Omar, Uthmān and Ali (may they be pleasing unto Allah!) and with the blessing of the glorious Pole of the world and the brilliant frame work of the skies, the immutable knower, the true Beloved[219] the lord Shaik Abdul-Qādir Jīlānī[220], and with the blessing of all the devout Walis of God from the Eastern to the Western portions of the Earth, and with the blessing of the miraculous power of all the sultans and with the blessing of the mediation[221] of his late Majesty Meukuta Alam Iskandar (Eseukanda) Muda, and with the blessing of the mediation of Her late Majesty Tajul-alam Sapiatōdin, and with the blessing of the mediation of His late Majesty Alaédin Ahmat Shah, and with the blessing of the mediation of His late Majesty Sultan Alaédin Mahmut Shah, and with the blessing of the mediation of His late Majesty Alaédin Muhamat Shah[222], and with the blessing of the mediation of His late Majesty Sultan Alaédin Jauhar al-Alam Shah, and with the blessing of His late Majesty Alaédin Mansō Shah, on all of whom God have Mercy, Amen!

If it be the will of Allah the Exalted, with the blessing of the miraculous power of him who (now) possesses greatness, dominion, justice and excellence, along with the highest and most distinguished rank, him who is favoured by the Lord whose name is 'your Highest Lord'[223]; to wit, our lord and master His Majesty Sultan Alaédin Muhamat Dawōt Shah, son of the late Sultan Alaédin Mansō Shah Juhan, the Blessed, Allah’s shadow in the world; while His Highness sat upon the throne in Kuta Keumala, His exalted Majesty, the Prince of the world spoke unto the Keureukōn Katibōy Muluk (or Mulut[224], bidding him draw up a document with the thunder-seal[225], to be vouchsafed unto Our ulèëbalang, who is called the Panglima of the Meuseugit Raya of Banda Acheh, the Seat of Peace.

We make known hereby unto all ulèëbalangs, unto the wakis, tandils[226], imeums, katibs, bileuës and all subjects:

With regard to this our Panglima, whose ancestors of old, even to his father, have been even down to our own times panglimas of the Meuseugit Raya, we hereby appoint him to be Panglima Meuseugit Raya, to fulfil all the duties that appertain to that office, and to follow in all his dealings the word of Allah (be He praised and glorified!) by commanding the good and forbidding the evil to all chiefs who are subject to his official orders. So is it the bounden duty of all these chiefs to hear and follow his command and prohibitions, in so far as they be in accordance with the law of our prophet Mohammad (may Allah bless him and grant him peace!), the law of the adat and the sacred institutions, even as these held good in the days of the earlier sultans; +on the way of righteousness, so that no injustice may befall the servants of Allah.

Let orders be given henceforth duly to perform the Friday service and the five daily prayers, to build meuseugits, déahs and meunasahs, also to contribute zakāt and pitrah on all things that be subject thereto, and where any is able, to accomplish the journey to Mekka to undertake the haj.

Moreover we make it known by this writing, that we have made him our deputy for all matters of pasah (divorce by judicial decree), marriage and the payment of pitrah for orphans, in respect of all our subjects who are within his jurisdiction. Thus let all who are in straits because they have no marriage-walis or who are desirous of obtaining separation resort to him that he may enquire into their case.

Should the Panglima Meuseugit Raya himself be insufficiently acquainted with the laws respecting marriage, pasah and the pitrah for orphans, he may appoint some upright ulama as his deputy, so as to ensure that all be done in accordance with the law of Mohammad.

But should this Panglima Meuseugit Raya fail to act conformably with the word of Allah, the law of Mohammad and Our institutions, then shall he forfeit his high office[227].

Here endeth well our word. Amen!"

  1. Some examples of the etymological lore of the Achehnese in respect to the name of their own country may be found in Van Langen's De Inrichting van het Atjehsche Staatsbestuur onder het Sultanaat in the Bijdragen van het Kon. Inst. voor de Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde van Nederlandsch-Indië for the year 1888, p. 386. There are various other explanations of the name in vogue, but not a single one is reliable. We find in Acheh but one more repetition of the phenomenon, that the names of countries, races and peoples present insoluble riddles to the etymologist, while those of villages and hamlets are as a rule fairly easy of analysis. We must thus rest content with knowing that the word Acheh, which is of unknown origin, is applied as the designation both of the whole country and of its chief town, and also of the entire population.
  2. These three places lie on the footpaths uniting Acheh with the territory of Pidië (vulg. Pedir). We find the boundaries somewhat differently marked in the ordinary maps and in the above quoted brochure of Van Langen p. 382.
  3. These baskets are made of strips of the bark of a small tree called bili plaited together.
  4. For the derivation and meaning of the word mukim see § 6. In Penang and Province Wellesley the English Government has adopted the word to designate the minor subdivisions of a district for administrative purposes. In its stricter sense it corresponds almost exactly to the English word "parish". (Translator).
  5. Printed in the Bijdragen van het Kon. Instituut voor de Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde at the Hague for the year 1888 pp. 381 et seq. In referring to this essay in future we shall call it the Atjehsch Staatsbestuur, and give the pages of the above number of the "Bijdragen".
  6. In Achehnese Alaédin Kha.
  7. The year 1636 is confirmed as the correct date of the death of Meukuta Alam by the pandit Raniri in his treatise (Arabic characters) (printed at Mekka in 1311 Heg. on the margin of the edition of (Arabic characters)) for he says that he came to Acheh in 1637 while Iskandar Thani was king.
  8. How little reliance can be placed on Achehnese data in respect to the origin of such written laws, may be deduced from the mention of the tomb of Teungku Anjōng in the so-called laws of Meukuta Alam (Van Langen, Atjehsch Staatsbestuur p. 442). Teungku Anjōng († 1782 A. D.) was not even born in the reign of Meukuta Alam († 1636 A. D.). The general tendency is to refer all that has become customary law to the Sultans in general ("adat pòten meureuhōm"), and to Meukuta Alam in particular.
  9. That this is particularly true of Acheh will be more clearly seen when we come to discuss the part played in Achehnese life by the mystics, ulamas and sayyids.
  10. It is well known that a man can remain a faithful Moslim in spite of transgression of almost every commandment of the law, whereas doubt or disbelief in one single jot or tittle makes him a kāfir (infidel).
  11. Adat is an Arabic word adopted in most Malayan languages. It means "custom", "usage", "customary law" as opposed to hukum or "religious law". (Translator).
  12. Cf. the remarks on the adat of the rulers of Mekka in my Mekka, Vol. I. p. 110 et seq.
  13. In entire contrast with the "Ordinance of the 14th March 1881 with respect to the administration of justice among the native population of Great Acheh with an explanatory memorandum by Mr. T. H. der Kinderen", Batavia 1881. As this ordinance perished at its birth, the Achehnese have never felt its effects.
  14. "Laws", "code of laws" (Translator).
  15. The case is of course somewhat different with regard to certain codes dealing with the decrees of sovereigns in regard to a limited number of subjects, such as the Hukum Kanun of Malacca and others. These are expressive not of decay, but of a temporary desire for order and reform. Of these the same holds true as of the Adat Meukuta Alam in Acheh; the real living adats are therein for the most part silently taken for granted and not committed to writing; while the new matter which the books contain must have had a very brief existence in view of the constant changes of government. They principally consist, as a rule, of regulations regarding the court of the sultan and maritime commerce.
  16. The truth of this is also entirely overlooked in Mr. L. W. C. Van den Berg's essay on the "Divergences from the Mohammedan law as to family and inheritance in Java and Madura" in the Rijdragen van het Koninkl. Instituut voor de Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde van Nederlandsch-Indië for 1892 p. 454 seq. Throughout this essay he employs as data for determining the ancient institutions of Java, regulations which appear in various lawbooks compiled under Hindu influence. To appreciate the folly of such a method we have only to imagine for a moment that the present civilization of the Javanese was by a revolution exchanged for one totally different. Then when the new order of things had been firmly established we should find in Java, not merely here and there, but everywhere, complete codes of Mohammedan law, some in Arabic, others translated into Javanese or with Javanese notes. We should thus have much stronger evidence of a theoretical application of Mohammedan law than we now find as regards Hindu law. Mr. Van den Berg could then present to our view a Javanese code of law more strictly Mohammedan than has ever been enforced in any Moslim country!
  17. This is incorrect. He was himself called Meukuta Alam after his death, and his ordinances are thus known as Adat Meukuta Alam.
  18. Company. This appellation is taken from the Dutch E. India Company and has taken such root in the native mind that it is still used to designate the Government even after the "Company" proper has ceased to exist. Similarly in the Straits Settlements "Kompani" (= the East India Company) has survived the decease of that trading association and is still universally used to denote the British Government. (Translator).
  19. And as the Afghan (!) specialist consulted by Mr. Der Kinderen asserted to be the case in regard to Acheh.
  20. Religious pandits. (Translator).
  21. Infidel.
  22. We find in Van Langen's Adjehsch Staatsbestuur pp. 384–389 some of the native traditions and conjectures respecting the origin of the nation. The writer’s efforts to reduce these data to one compact whole, seem not justifiable in view of the small reliance that can be placed in them.
  23. See "Bijdrage tot de kennis der verhouding van het Tjam tot de talen van Indonesië" by G. K. Niemann in the Bijdragen van het Kon. Inst. voor de Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde van Nederlandsch Indië for 1891 at the Hague p. 27 et seq., and the Bibliographische Bijdragen at the same place p. 339 et seq.
  24. The money-lending caste of Southern India. (Translator).
  25. Compare again the treatise of G. K. Niemann quoted above, p. 44. The theory of van Langen cited by him, according to which the kawōm of the Imeum peuet is of Hindu origin, does not rest on popular tradition, but must be ranked among the learned conjectures of certain of the Achehnese.
  26. See also Van Langen's Atjehsch Staatsbestuur pp. 384–85.
  27. There is a play on the common meaning of the word rawa = the tail of an Achehnese kite.
  28. Mal. "orang dagang", a stranger, foreigner. (Translator).
  29. See Veth's Java, III, p. 580 et seq.; a version of the story of which I made notes in Bagelen differs somewhat from that of Prof. Veth's authorities. We find the same story elsewhere also in more or less modified form; see for instance the Tijdschrift van het Bataviaasch Genootschap vol. XXIV pp. 257–8 and 421 et seq.
  30. The Achehnese derive from Nias their knowledge of the highly prized peundang treatment.
  31. In the Javanese story the princess drops her shuttle while weaving and being disinclined to rise, she swears an unlucky oath, that whoever should pick up her trepong should wed her. The dog hastened to fetch the shuttle and thus became her husband.
  32. Ratu Baka rex, ut aiunt, quondam venando fatigatus, dum quietis causâ consistebat, in corticem nucis coconensis minxit, quo facto corticem in terram deposuit. Nec tamen urina solum, sed etiam semen virile in vasculo manebat, quod cum forte sus fera bibisset feta facta est et filiam peperit.
  33. These fruits are eaten by the Achehnese after being made into rujaq (chinichah) or boiled with arèn-juice and sugar. The Niasese are fond of them in the raw state. Another saying is "Niëh kumudèë—bieʾ hana malèë" i. e. "Niasese, lover of the běngkudu-fruit, race that is ashamed of nothing".
  34. Before the war this importation seems to have been very limited; but it of course increased greatly when most of the padi fields had long lain untilled.
  35. See Van Langen's Atjehsch Staatsbestuur p. 397, The war was of small importance and little blood was spilt. A very correct estimate of the weight to be attached to civil wars in Acheh will be found in the "Atjeh en de Atjehers" of J. A. Kruyt (p. 144).
  36. Most of these are imported from Singkel and Trumon. The Achehnese distinguish the Bataʾ Karèë (= Karau) as being the wildest and most vicious. Hence they apply this as a nickname of evil import to all Bata's, including the Bataʾ Paʾpaʾ, the Bataʾ Tuba and the Bataʾ Malòyliëng (Mandaïling).
  37. Very few Bataks find their way to the Straits Settlements but those who do bear out the character here given of them. I have seen two very bad cases of amok by Bataks in Penang, apparently originating from quite trifling and inadequate motives (Translator).
  38. As to the slave trade in the Straits see my article on "Sklavenhandel in Singapore" in the Zeitschrift der deutschen morgenländischen Gesellschaft, 1891, p. 395 et seq.
  39. The word "Habshi" is similarly used in Malaya to designate all African negroes (Translator).
  40. There still lives at Ulèë Lheuë (Olehleh) a freed Circassian slave, formerly the property of Habib Abdurrahman, who also imported Hindus as slaves into Acheh. Such cases are, however, rare.
  41. See my Mekka vol. II, p. 135.
  42. The word buëng itself belongs to their peculiar dialect. It means "swamp" which in other parts of Acheh is known as paya.
  43. Cf. my essay Studien over Atjèhsche klank- en schriftleer in the Tijdschrift van het Batav. Genootschap, vol. XXXV, p. 365.
  44. The best data as regards Achehnese dress are to be found in Van Langen's Atjeh's Westkust in the Tijdschrift v. h. Nederl. Aardrigksk. Genootschap 2nd series, vol. V. p. 447 et seq. For an account of the Achehnese weapons see the same, p. 450, J. A. Kruyt's Atjeh en de Atjehers p. 56 and the Notulen van het Batav. Genootschap 1892 appx II. 1.
  45. Usually of cloth (sukaleuët) or other European materials which are known as kulét kayèë (= bark).
  46. These are made by the Achehnese women themselves and are of finer quality than those of Mekka, The price of a kupiah varies from 7–12 dollars.
  47. This is an acorn-shaped ornament perforated from end to end with a hole through which the tips of the bunghkōih are passed.
  48. Weapons are now only worn by a few of the chiefs, the carrying of arms being as a rule forbidden by government.
  49. This fashion is called meulipaïh China = "like a Chinese fan".
  50. The Achehnese call this mubòh guda = "horse's pizzle".
  51. Compare the notes on the bridal toilet in our description of marriage (Chapter III).
  52. The leaves or fruits most commonly used are ōn mudliëng, bòh muliéng, ōn murōng and black or red bòh truëng.
  53. This includes dried fish of the large varieties, not the stockfish (keumamaïh) of the Maldives or the karéng.
  54. The verb chichah has reference to the pounding up of fruits etc. and the mixing up of the whole in the compost called rujaq, which is also known to the Achehnese by the name cheunichah or chinichah.
  55. The blimbing is an acid fruit (one of the Oxalidaceæ) growing on a tree of moderate size. It is very popular with the Malays as a relish or sambal in curry. (Translator).
  56. Sěrai is Malay for the lemon-grass. Andropogon Scheenanthus. (Translator).
  57. All that goes with the rice is called lawan bu or teumòn bu.
  58. For instance bōy, halua Meuseukat, pasisa, dōy-dōy, peunajōh thō, halua u, halua meugeunta, halua pisang, halua leungòng, halua pulōt, seupét kuét, kutaʾkan, seusagōn etc. Sweetmeats and cakes unsuited for keeping are called by the collective name of dabeueh peukan, i. e. "market-wares", even though home made. The following are some of them; bada keutila, bada pisang, gula taʾ, gula tarèʾ, karang seumòt, keukaraïh, blita talani, bòh rōm-rōm, eungkuy, chutōy, kripèt, apam, sròykaya, putu, tapè. This list shows that there is no lack of variety.
  59. Betel-nut, lime and gambir. These three with the pungent betel-leaf (sirih) form the "quid" of the Malays. (Translator).
  60. From the Arabic (Arabic characters) = spiritual or bodily refreshment. It was at first used as an euphemistic expression for the prohibited drug.
  61. The Achehnese pronunciation is Mansō Chah.
  62. The intemperate use of strong drink in the neighbourhood of the royal stronghold would appear to have assumed great proportions previous to the commencement of the Achehnese war.
  63. The drawing was made by Mr. M. Donk, and I owe the full explanatory notes to Mr. L. J. C. van Es, Engineer.
  64. The great saint of Acheh, a sayyid of the stock of Bilfaqīh, whose tomb is in Gampōng Jawa, is generally known as Teungku Anjōng owing to his having during his lifetime dwelt in a house which was separated from the
  65. The description we give here is practically supplementary to that of Van Langen in the Tijdschrift van het Ned. Aardrijksk. Genootschap, second series, Vol. V. p. 450 et seq.
  66. The point of junction of the gampōng-path with the main road is called babah rèt = mouth of the road.
  67. The part of the courtyard in front of the house is called leuën, that behind it likōt or likōt mòh (the last is short for rumòh) and the spaces at the sides of the two gables rabòng.
  68. Sometimes, especially in the highlands, there are found in place of the keupōʾ more solidly constructed wooden storehouses (brandang) either under the house or close beside it.
  69. This foul-smelling oil (minyeuʾ brōʾ) is used for lamps etc. What is required for culinary purposes is first boiled and prepared so as to remove the smell and is then called minyeuʾ masaʾ. The Achehnese seldom boil out the oil from the fresh santan (cocoanut milk) since the quantity obtainable in this way is smaller. Such oil is called minyeu leutéʾ.
  70. The Malay sěrkap, a conical cage or basket. The Malays give the same name to a similar basket which they use to catch fish in wet padi-fields and standing pools. The sluggish fish are caught by plunging the basket down into the water, and the fish are then withdrawn through an aperture at the top. (Translator).
  71. With regard to the fowls it should be added that they also are generally collected in the evening and placed on a bamboo or plank platform projecting outwards horizontally from the house and unprovided with any covering or fence. This is a precaution against the perpetual thefts of fowls. If the birds are gathered together in a coop, the thieves come and besprinkle them with water; this artificial rain makes them keep still, and the plunderers can carry off their booty unnoticed. But when the fowls are sitting on an open surface, they will fly in all directions at the first attempt the thief makes to catch them.
  72. They are let loose in the fields by day and tied up to trees at night, generally without any shelter. Their owners often forget to water them for one or two days at a time, so that the expression "to water a horse" (bri ië guda) is used proverbially as a reproach to someone who puts off the performance of a duty, as one who should pay a daily visit, but only puts in an appearance one day in three or four.
  73. The word also signifies "grotto" or "cave", but the expression jaʾ tōh ᶜieʾ keudéh baʾ guha (Van Langen, Achehnese Dictionary p. 471) means "go and make water at the hole" and not "in the cave".
  74. The Achehnese however do not perform this operation in the same unsavoury manner as the Javanese, whom they nickname Jawa pajōh gutèë = "louse-eating Javanese".
  75. Hence the collective name in Acheh for pottery, kanèt-blangòng.
  76. These pots are generally used in Acheh for cooking rice with water (taguën). Steaming (seuʾòb) is only resorted to in the case of gelatinous rice (bu leukat), certain ground fruits and a few sweetmeats such as sròykaya or apam. For this are employed utensils called puncheuëʾ similar in shape to the kukusans of Java. As a matter of fact the cooking of rice in water (liwět) is the rule in Java also in many more districts than is generally supposed.
  77. Tungku in Mal. and Jav.
  78. An odd contrast is to be found in the English name for the initiation of a new house, "house-warming". To natives of warm climates coolness and not warmth appears the desideratum (Translator).
  79. From the Arab. kaum = people, tribe.
  80. In his Atjehsch Staatsbestuur, pp. 384–390. The theory there propounded (p. 387) that this distribution was introduced on a sudden during the reign of a certain Sultan of the 16th century is unworthy of acceptance and is also at variance with tradition. The transition took place naturally, growing with the growth of the people. What the writer puts forward as Achehnese tradition is to an undesirable degree mixed up with modern conjectures and the theories of certain Achehnese.
  81. Chief or leader of the kawōm.
  82. The number four is a favourite one in these genealogical subdivisions. It is known that the sukus (the word actually indicates the fraction ¼) of the Měnangkabau people are also based on the number four. Anyone at all versed in genealogical legends is aware that all such tables of descent are as regards their uppermost part artificial or mythical or in brief fictitious, while the really traditional or more reliable elements must be sought for in the most recent branches. In the earlier portions we find represented in genealogical form units which history shows to have really been gathered from the four winds.
  83. See also Van Langen, Atjehsch Staatsbestuur pp. 387 et seq. The explanation there given of the distribution of the people into kawōms as based on difference of race, thus giving us a Mante-Batak, a Hindu and a half-caste kawōm, and also one of more recent origin, rests again on modern Achehnese theory and is as little trustworthy as the doctrine of Teungku Kutakarang (see p. 18 above) according to which the people of Acheh was composed of Arabs, Persians and Turks. The flights of fancy indulged in by the Achehnese expositors are shown by the explanation of the name of the kawōm Tōʾ Batèë on p. 388 of the above work. They derive it from the circumstance that on one occasion through the help of this tribe "stones enough" were found. In the first place, the proper meaning of tōʾ is "to arrive" and not "to be enough." Besides this, however, the word Tōʾ is a common abbreviation of Datōʾ which like Ja means ancestor, and as a matter of fact the tribe in question is just as often called Ja Batèë as Tōʾ Battèë.
  84. For instance the cousin and banta of the present Teuku Nèʾ is called Teuku Sandang.
  85. Atjehsch Staatsbestuur, pp. 388–389.
  86. Compare Ja Kariëng, a dreaded tree on Pulò Lam Puyang, the subject of many vows, Eumpèë Lulu, a mountain on the coast of the IV Mukims which plays a part in the rain-making superstition, Eumpèë Bliëng, a holy well in the IX Mukims, which also helps to cause rain, etc.
  87. In the highlands also vengeance for blood is more under the control of the adat than of Mohammedan law. Where the guilty party cannot be pointed out with certainty, but where it is known to what family he belongs, the injured party is entitled to take his revenge by slaying or wounding one member of the family. Vengeance for blood also extends to the auctor intellectualis who has for example bribed or instigated others to commit the deed.
  88. The ordinary blood-money for causing death in Acheh is 500 Spanish (Mexican) dollars.
  89. Van Langen has quoted this doggerel in his Atjehsch Staatsbestuur and in his Achehnese Dictionary under (Arabic characters) with some different readings and not without errors. Every verse of an Achehnese poem consists of 4 lines of 2 feet each. The pair in the middle rhyme with one another (like drang with Sandang above, and also bachut with peuët allowing for the customary poetic license). The last syllable of each verse rhymes with the last syllable of the next (haleuba with dōnya). It must be understood that the necessities of rhyme and metre exercise some constraint on the contents of the verses; the sense is clear enough, but too much stress not be laid on the exact wording.
  90. The word raja which is chosen for the sake of the rhyme and of variety has here exactly the same meaning as ulèëbalang. We shall presently see that the ulèëbalangs are as a matter of fact the rajas of Acheh.
  91. [An official enquiry recently made has elicited the fact that the tribal life has lost its force to a great extent in the XXII Mukims also. In the quarrels and petty wars of the highlands in the last century the kawōms have played but a secondary part. It is a suggestive fact that as regards more than one chief in this district the very kawōm to which he belongs is a matter of controversy.]
  92. This word which also appears in the forms beunasah, meulasah and beulasah is derived from the Arabic madrasah, meaning a teaching institute; it has also other secondary significations. The statement made by Van Langen in his Atjehsch Staatsbestuur p. 391, that the teungku (who is in charge of the meunasah) is a kind of subordinate village headman, is erroneous. It sometimes occurs indeed, that one gampōng has more than one meunasah (in rare cases as many as four), but in every case the relation between the teungku and the keuchiʾ within the sphere of each meunasah is indicated by the comparison "the keuchiʾ is the father, the teungku the mother", and each has his own limit of action and his own appointed duties. Where the number of meunasahs in a gampōng is too great for the keuchiʾs control, he is represented by wakis in one or more meunasahs. Where a single keuchiʾ is placed in charge of more than one gampōng, as often happened in former times, such representation is the rule.
  93. Among the Malays of the Peninsula such nocturnal separation is practically unknown. The manasah, as the Malays call it, is to be found in some Malay kampongs but by no means in all; it is however devoted entirely to religious uses and is not, like the Achehnese meunasah, a sort of "club" or common lodging-house as well as a "chapel". The balei or public meeting house is also a common feature of the Malay kampong. (Translator).
  94. In Bantěn the village chapel is called bale desa, which seems to point to a similar origin to that of the meunasah.
  95. This word, which is also pronounced dèah and dèëʾah, is derived from the Arab. zāwiyah.
  96. This word, which is in its other uses generally abbreviated into chhiʾ, signifies "old". Ureuëng chhiʾ is the exact equivalent of "elders". Teungku or Teuku Chhiʾ with the name of the district added is a very common title of chiefs in the dependencies of Acheh.
  97. Presents made to a keuchiʾ to ensure the proper presentation of a suit to the ulèëbalang are called ngòn blòë ranub i. e. (money) to buy-betel-leaf. Fees to persons of humbler rank are called ngòn blòë ië teubèë = "(money) to buy sugar-cane juice" the usual harmless beverage of the Achehnese.
  98. The Dutch proverb is kleine geschenken onderhouden de vriendschap "little presents cement friendship". It is not a genuine Dutch proverb but is adopted from the French "les petits cadeaux entretiennent l'amitié". (Translator).
  99. From the Arab. wakil = attorney or agent. Waki is used in Achehnese in the same general sense.
  100. In Buëng we find a further peculiarity. Under each imeum of a mukim there are exactly four wakis or fathers of communities, each of whom with his gampōng is responsible for one-fourth of the common interests of the district, such as repair of mosques etc.
  101. Recipes for this purpose are to be found in all the books of memoranda of literate Achehnese. These recipes sometimes consist merely in tangkays (formulas) to be recited on certain occasions, but more material methods are also recommended in great variety. The following is one of the commonest: choose a ripe pineapple, and cut off a piece from the top, letting the fruit still remain attached to the stalk. Then take out a little of the inside and fill up the space so made with yeast. Close the fruit up again by replacing the piece cut off; fasten it up tight and let it hang for another day or two. The fruit is then plucked and it is said that the woman who eats it will find it a sure preventive of pregnancy.
  102. For example: Teuku ampōn ka geupòh lōn = "Teuku ampon (the ulèëbalang for instance) has beaten me"; and in the 2nd person: Teuku ampōn bèʾ marah = "I pray thee be not angry".
  103. In Achehnese it is less common than in many other native languages of the Archipelago, to employ titles for the 2nd person. We can say: ban hukōm Teuku or ban hukōm Teuku ampōn = "as Teuku or Teuku ampōn wills"; but it is equally commonly expressed by ban hukōm dròenen = "by your will". In assenting politely or submissively to what some one has said, the title is simply used by itself teungku! or teuku! or teuku ampōn! etc. = "exactly so!"
  104. Among the Malays the word tungku is only applied to those of royal blood. Sultans are addressed both thus and as tuanku, which is more honorific. The 2nd personal pronoun is never used in addressing persons of distinction; and ampun (= pardon) is never used as an affix to tungku, though it is sometimes prefixed to it as a humble form of address. The form teuku has no equivalent in Malay. (Translator).
  105. Leubè thus means the same as the Sundanese lěbe and the Javanese santri.
  106. From the Arab. muaʿllim = teacher, master.
  107. 107.0 107.1 From the Arab. ʿālim, learned man or pandit. The plural ʿulamā is also used as singular with a slight change of meaning in Achehnese and other languages of the E. Archipelago.
  108. Hukōm ngòn adat han jeuët chré, lagèë dat ngòn sipheuët. Another version is hukōm ngòn adat lagèë mata itam ngòn mata putéh; hukōm hukōmōlah adat adatōlah. i.e. "Hukōm and adat are like the pupil and the white of the eye; the hukōm is Allah's hukōm and the adat Allah's adat."
  109. Continuous repetitions of the Mohammedan confession of faith "lā ilāha illaʾllāh" = there is no God but God." The merit of this act of piety is supposed to be communicated to the deceased.
  110. Ureuëng tuha properly means "old people". Like keuchiʾ which also means "old", it conveys in this connection no idea of the actual age of the persons spoken of. [The Malays use orang tua in exactly the same way.] (Translator.)
  111. From the Arab. muwāfaḳat, which word the Achehnese have naturally mistaken for a verbal form derived from a root pakat to which they give the meaning of "plan, deliberation". Meu (or mu before labials) is almost the equivalent of the Malay běr. Thus from pat = "place" we have sapat = "in one and the same place" and meusapat = "to come to or be in the same place, to assemble together." In the abortive ordinance of Mr. Der Kinderen (p. 2 par. 2 etc.) he has made this latter word a substantive and has at the same time changed the first vowel into "u". "These (the native tribunals of whose existence in Acheh Mr. Der Kinderen assures us) bear the name of Musapat". These "musapats" however belong to the realm of fancy. [Since the Dutch government has become established in Acheh, justice has been in fact administered by native tribunals under the guidance of European officials, and these courts have been called by the name manufactured by Mr. Der Kinderen. But these "musapats" differ greatly both in the manner of their constitution and their functions from the creations of Mr. Der Kinderen].
  112. He meant of course an Achehnese raja or an Arab of distinction such as Sayyid Abdurrahman himself, not an infidel overlord who is simply obeyed on account of his temporal power.
  113. This may be concluded from the words in which those who come to meulangga still announce their demands: "We come to slay X, to burn his house and to raze his hedge and garden to the ground".
  114. We may remark in passing that as soon as the Law began to make a technical use of this word, it became necessary to define closely the length of residence which suffices to constitute a man a muḳîm of any given place. Thus we find some persons who according to our ideas are not in any sense inhabitants of a community, regarded by the Mohammedan law as its muḳîms. This word has in Kedah the same modified meaning as in Acheh (Newbold, British Settlements in the Straits of Malacca II: 20); and the peculiarity that in the former place each mukim consisted originally of at least 44 families, is a clear indication of the original intent of this territorial subdivision.
  115. Called jāmiʾ or masjid jāmiʾ in Arabic, to distinguish them from the smaller mosques. In the Indian Archipelago they are usually termed masjid (měsěgit etc.; Achehnese meuseugit or seumeugit) in contradistinction with langgar, tajuʾ, balé, surau etc.(Ach. meunasah).
  116. The use of the word imām in the sense of the chief of a state or community is almost entirely limited to books. Where used it always means the supreme authority. It is quite out of the question that the name of the Achehnese office should have been originally used in this sense.
  117. The Malays have besides the three here named, a fourth mosque official called the Siak, Pěnghulu Mukim or Pěnghulu Mesjid. His duties are the last of those assigned to the bilal in the text; those of the latter are according to Newbold (British settlements in the Straits of Malacca p. 249) mainly sacrificial, but as a matter of fact the bilal only intones the bang or call to prayer, and it is the imam who recites the talkin or funeral service over the grave. The bilal often performs the duties of shrouding and washing the dead, but he does this only as an eligible elder, as any devout person who knows the ceremonial rules in these matters may perform the task. (Translator.)
  118. Imeum here does not of course mean the chief of the mukim, but a servant of the mosque who derives no influence whatever from his office.
  119. See p. 65 above.
  120. Examples of such unions are Lam Lheuë, Lam Kraʾ, Kruëng Maʾ and Ateuëʾ; Sibrèë, Baʾét and a part of Lam Ara; another part of Lam Ara, Aneuʾ Glé and Jruëʾ.
  121. See Van Langen's Atjehsch Staatsbestuur, pp. 401 and 437.
  122. Thus the sagi of the XXII Mukims now contains 37, or 46 if we include the VII Mukims Pidië (Mukim Tujōh); the latter are really 9 in number.
  123. See also Van Langen's Atjehsch Staatsbestuur p. 393.
  124. Van Langen, Atjehsch Staatsbestuur p. 392.
  125. There are in Pidië also federations of the same sort. Just as Acheh has its XXII Mukims of Panglima Pòlém, so we find in Pidië the XXII Mukims of Béntara Keumangan, etc.
  126. As to this see also Van Langen's Atjehsch Staatsbestuur, p. 398.
  127. It must not however be always assumed from the occurrence of this word in the proper name or official title of a chief, that the latter is acting or has acted as a banta. In consequence of the devolution of titles by inheritance, it often happens that a man whose ancestor was a banta bears this title without any respect to his present rank.
  128. See p. 46 above. We have thus three kinds of panglimas of vastly different position: the panglima sagi, who is in name at least one of the principal ulèëbalangs, the panglima kawōm or chief of a tribe, and the panglima prang here described.
  129. The ideal character of the Mohammedan law, developed as it was for the most part in the schools, out of reach of all close connection with the real requirements of daily life, has been described by the author in Mohammedaansch recht en rechtswetenschap (Indische Gids 1886) and De fiqh en de vergelykende rechtswetenschap (Rechtsgeleerd Magazijn 1886) and by Dr. Ign. Goldziher in Muhammedanisches Recht in Theorie und Wirklichkeit (Zeitschrift für vergleichende Rechtswissenschaft, vol. VIII). A further striking example of directly contradictory rules in regard to questions of the highest importance, which find authoritative supporters even within each of the four orthodox schools, is supplied by the admirable description of the Wagqf-law of the Hanafites by J. Kresmarik in the Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenländ. Gesellschaft, Band XLV. 511 et seq.
  130. See pp. 14 and 72 above.
  131. This expression is also to be found in Malay works in the sense of "The Judge, the Almighty Lord" = God, e. g. in Ganjamara, Singapore Edition p. 159 (Arabic characters)
  132. Ordonnantie van 14 Maart 1881 betrekkelijk de rechtspleging onder de inheemsche bevolking van Groot-Atjeh, met een memorie van toelichting van Mr. T. H. Der Kinderen, Batavia 1881, pp. 18, 22 seqq.
  133. Prof. Niemann in his Bloemlezing uit Maleische geschriften, Part 2, p. 25 notices that Malikul Adil is a common title for qadhis in Malay countries.
  134. He died in 1893.
  135. The chief of those who rendered service in this way was Teungku di Lheuë, an ulama of inferior repute.
  136. Not to be confused with his contemporary, the still greater pandit Teungku Lam Paya, who was distinguished from the kali of that name by the addition of the word ulama or além.
  137. Thus even in the rare cases where the Sultan of Acheh had need of the advice of those learned in the law, his real adviser was Cheh Marahaban and not Teuku Kali.
  138. See above p. 75.
  139. See p. 77 above.
  140. See p. 78 above.
  141. Even Teungku Tandòh Abèë, the learned kali of the XXII Mukims, alluded to above has for years past harboured a bila gòb (a man guilty of homicide, literally "blood-sacrifice of others"), who has meantime become under his guidance a diligent student of the kitabs.
  142. According to Mohammedan law, as we know, the thief should be deprived of his right hand, for a second offence of his left foot, for a third of the left hand and finally of the right foot. But theft as defined by that law is exceedingly difficult to prove according to Mohammedan rules of evidence. As we shall see presently, the infliction of these punishments was among the prerogatives of the Sultan. Nevertheless even in recent years this right was usurped by the chief of the sagi of the XXII Mukims, who most probably paid no heed in dealing with such cases to the strict requirements of the Mohammedan law of evidence in the matter of theft. No other chiefs of sagis or ulèëbalangs have ever assumed this privilege.
  143. The causative of sah (Arab. çaḥḥ) = true, certain; the word thus means: to declare as certain, ascertain.
  144. I have grave doubts of this as I received the information from the present panglima of this sagi himself, a young man who has little reliable knowledge of the ancient adats.
  145. Cf. p. 87 above.
  146. Or else, as we saw above, the panglima sagi, or a council of three imeums, as the local custom may dictate.
  147. Although almost all those present actually bear the title teuku, it is the traditional custom for the speaker to use the word teungku in the commencement of his address. Subsequently he directs his narrative more exclusively to the ulèëbalang, whom he addresses according to custom as teuku ampōn.
  148. The houses of the gampōng in contradistinction to the meunasah are here meant. Cf. p. 61 above.
  149. That is to say: I leave it to you to decide, whether he shall be esteemed thief or not.
  150. See Van Langen, Atjehsch Staatsbestuur, p. 469.
  151. Such administration of oaths is an affair of the gampōng, which the keuchiʾ can undertake upon his own responsibility, but the ordeals can only be applied by the ulèëbalang.
  152. In Acheh and its dependencies, just as in other Mohammedan countries, arbitrary punishments are often elaborated and inflicted by the chiefs. Thus the present chief of Teunòm used often to cause adulterous lovers to be deprived of their virility by the objects of their passion. He also punished many transgressors of the law as to fasts by having them led about the country on all fours for some days with rings in their noses like buffaloes, and forcing them to eat grass.
  153. Houses are not included, as in Acheh these belong to the category of movable property.
  154. Further details as to these formalities, which are also required by the adat at the sale of ploughing cattle, will be found in our description of agriculture.
  155. This is the token of respect under the adat. In the case of teungkus, leubès etc., it is replaced by the arab salām (Ach. saleuëm).
  156. During the last three years, that is to say since a serious attempt has been made towards the proper government of Great Acheh, the ulèëbalangs and their subjects have learned to live in peace with each other. They have been taught to submit their disputes to the decision of the Dutch Government, to carry on the administration of justice and the control of their districts entirely subject to the guidance of Dutch officials, who are invested with civil authority.
  157. This word, like the Javanese kangjěng is used simply for confirmation or acquiescence, but never replaces the pronoun in any other sense than this.
  158. As regards this question see Van Langen's Atjehsch Staatsbestuur pp. 405 et seq.
  159. It is impossible to fix the exact time when this institution was first established. Sundry kindred institutions are undoubtedly assigned to too late an epoch by Van Langen in his Atjehsch Staatsbestuur pp. 405 seqq. The great antiquity of wakeuëh appears from the fact that the peculiar position of the people of the Mukim Lhèë or the III Mukims Keureukōn may be directly traced to it, though the original intention was never attained. Besides, it could only have originated at a time when the sultans still exercised considerable power.
  160. This has nothing to do with sharʾ = "sacred law", for this word would be pronounced in Achehnese as charaʾ or saraʾ. It is sometimes explained by its meaning of "with," "along with," thus indicating the rice-fields that appertain to or are connected with the mosque. It is probably however derived from the Malay sara which means "provisions," "means of support."
  161. In the two ancient epic poems of Acheh, Malém Dagang and Pòchut Muhamat (see p. 84 above) we find frequent mention of ureuëng wakeuëh nibaʾ (or ubaʾ) raja = "wakeuëh-men on the side of (or with) the king." This appears to mean that a certain district was allotted them to live in, within which they enjoyed complete independence, while they remained responsible to the king alone for their actions. They were thus a sort of free-lances.
  162. The term bibeuëh is also applied to persons who enjoy a kind of independence owing to their descent or their personal importance. For example where a scion of a distinguished family or a pandit of widespread celebrity together with his next of kin resided in the territory of an ulèëbalang, it was regarded as a matter of course that the latter should exert but a very slender authority over them, and that he should abstain from pressing in their case the claims which he ordinarily made on his subjects. These persons were bibeuëh (Mal. bibas).
  163. Even now this district is usually described as Mukim Lhèë (the "Mukims Three"), whilst other ulèëbalangships of three mukims are called "the three mukims so and so" e.g. Lhèë Mukim Lam Rabò, Lhèë Mukim Kayèë Adang etc. In like manner the IV mukims of the XXV are always known as Mukim Peuët and the VII Mukims of Pidië as Mukim Tujōh.
  164. P. 98 above.
  165. More properly kātib ul-mulk, "writer of the kingdom."
  166. Some writers have made a false deduction from this circumstance, and would have us suppose that the office of confidential secretary here referred to was in active existence down to the most recent times.
  167. See Van Langen's Atjehsch Staatsbestuur, p. 406, sub. 5.
  168. From the Malay pagar ayer, the Achehnese for which is pageuë ië.
  169. See p. 98 above.
  170. See p. 124 above.
  171. See p. 120 above.
  172. As to coin in Acheh we need here only refer to Van Langen's Atjehsch Staatsbestuur pp. 427–435.
  173. Pp. 83–84 above.
  174. Pp. 7–8 above.
  175. The "linie" was a line of fortresses thrown up by the Dutch in Acheh during the period of their policy of "concentration" (1884–96). This policy, which has now been abandoned, is in itself enough to account for the slow advance of the Dutch in their conquest of Acheh, Within the "linie" was the seat of government and so much of the country as had been absolutely reduced to submission. Outside were those openly hostile or of doubtful fidelity, interspersed here and there with a few who were loyal to the Government. We are reminded of the "pale" in Ireland in the 16th century (Translator).
  176. See the plate on p. 129.
  177. See pp. 89–91 above.
  178. It is a wide spread theory among the natives of the Archipelago, that if a person suffering from a contagious disease infects another with it, he thereby ensures to himself recovery from or mitigation of the ailment.
  179. Both were called banta as they had borne this rank during the panglimaship of their predecessor. See p. 92 above.
  180. See p. 127 above.
  181. Since the "defection" of Teuku Uma, who was married to Chut Diën, the daughter of Teuku Nanta, the Nantas have been declared deposed from the government of the VI Mukims, and the native authority in that place is exercised by the young Teuku Raja Itam, son of the late Teuku Nèʾ of Meuraʾsa.
  182. See also Van Langen's Atjehsch Staatsbestuur p. 404.
  183. The panglima of the XXVI Mukims at the time when the list was recorded was one Teuku Chut Oh (short for Abdōraʾōh, i. e. Abdurraʾuf).
  184. See pp. 50–51.
  185. As to precedence in rank of this kali see p. 101 above.
  186. Raffles remarks somewhere that the sultan of Acheh was revered throughout his whole kingdom, but obeyed nowhere.
  187. See p. 119 above.
  188. Gōmpeuni, the Achehnese pronunciation of "Compagnie," is used throughout the whole country of Acheh to signify the Dutch Government. Many of the people believe it to be the official title of the representative of that government at Batavia (Peutawi). Others use the word in the general sense of "government", and speak of gōmpeuni Blanda, gōmpeuni Inggréh (Dutch and English governments). The military meaning of the word is also known to the Achehnese, who even use gōmpeuni in the collective sense of "soldiers." The ordinary word for the latter is sidadu. (See also Translator's note on p. 13 above).
  189. See p. 132 above. [The pretender to the sultanate was compelled some years ago owing to a quarrel with the local chiefs to break up his "court" at Keumala and to settle first in one place and then in another. For the last three years (1896–99) i. e. since we have begun to deal seriously with the government of Great Acheh and the subjugation of its dependencies, the pretender has been obliged to lead a wandering life. He seeks safety by constantly shifting his abode and finds his asylum as a rule in the North-coast districts.]
  190. One of these small internal wars in which the Sultan was engaged some time since, originated in a quarrel about a sadati, one of the dancing boys who appear at some of the ratébs (recitations) in female garb and excite the passions of the Achehnese paederasts.
  191. See pp. 92, 126–127 above.
  192. As explained by me elsewhere, the application of these titles is subject to local differences, but as a general rule the descendants of Mohammad’s grandson Ḥasan are called sharifs and those of Ḥusain sayyids. Thus in the Indian Archipelago there are sayyids only, though the name of sharif is here and there applied to the descendants of sayyids born in the country.
  193. As to the development of this veneration for sayyids and sharifs see my "Mekka" vol. I p. 32 et seq. and pp. 71 et seq.
  194. See pp. 70 seqq. above.
  195. In like manner Teuku, Teungku, Tuan and other such titles are used simply to denote concurrence in the speaker's last remark.
  196. Pěnghulu has a wide range in Malay, just as "imeum" in Achehnese. The Pěnghulu Masjid is quite a humble individual, a sort of sacristan of the mosque. The headmen of large villages are also called pěnghulus; but in some states the same title is given to an official whose position somewhat resembles that of the ulèëbalang in Acheh. Such for example was Sayyid Ali the Penghulu of Jelebu in the Malay Peninsula, who revolted against the hereditary Yam Tuan and became the ruler of that small independent state before it came under British protection. (Translator).
  197. A member of the same family lies buried at Luar Batang in Batavia. His tomb is widely venerated.
  198. [This ambitious sayyid died at Jeddah in 1896.]
  199. These are religious performances, wherein the performers wound themselves with knives, sear their bodies with red-hot chains etc. while the bystanders chant religious formulas. The wounds are supposed to be immediately healed by the mystic influence of the holy personage whose litanies are being recited.
  200. This word is properly the plural of wali in the Arabic, aulia, with an Achehnese pronunciation; but it is also used as a singular both in Achehnese and kindred languages, in the same way as ulama, also a plural in Arabic.
  201. "Great" in Achehnese is raya or rayeuʾ.
  202. Pangulèë hareukat meugòë.
  203. See above p. 122.
  204. See p. 161 above.
  205. In the few cases of apparent enmity against him on the part of some of the chiefs, their hostility besides being of a somewhat harmless description was in reality always directed against some panglima (military leader) of the ulama on account of some excessive interference with their traditional privileges.
  206. See above p. 52.
  207. Tapa in the sense of absolute hermitical seclusion is admired and respected, but very seldom practised by the Malays of the peninsula. When ascending Gunong Jěrai in Kědah I heard of a holy hermit there who had spoken to no human being for five years; but he was said to be a stranger. Tapa for short periods is however popular. (Translator).
  208. A Javanese whose tomb is now an object of veneration at Ulèë Lheuë is known by the name of Teungku Lam Guha, having done tapa for successive years in this cave of the Darōy.
  209. See p. 150 above.
  210. See p. 71 above.
  211. [Mat Amin was killed in action in 1896, when the Dutch troops captured the fortress of Aneuʾ Galōng. Two other sons of Teungku Tirò, Teungku Bèb (died 1900) and Teungku Mahidin or Maʾ Et, together with their kinsman Teungku Chòt Pliëng (died 1901) much respected for his piety and learning continued to do their utmost to maintain the collections of the sabil contributions in the dependencies on the North Coast. Great Acheh no longer furnishes a field for the labour of these men and their fellows.]
  212. See p. 132 above.
  213. See p. 132 above.
  214. See p. 101 above.
  215. [After the submission of Teuku Uma to the Dutch Government, Teungku Kutakarang withdrew to a great extent from public life and died in November 1895. He never came into contact with the Government, but in the last years of his life his friends succeeded in making the Dutch civil officers believe that this fanatic ulama had been transformed into an ardent advocate of acknowledgment of the supremacy of the Gōmpeuni.]
  216. For our present purpose chronological details of the reigns of the Achehnese kings are of minor importance. We shall merely observe that the list of these dates is very variously given in the different native authorities. Thus some have it that Sidi Meukamay reigned from 1540 to 1570 A. D.
  217. Compare also J. A. Kruijt's Atjeh en de Atjehers p. 58.
  218. 28th October 1889.
  219. Here and in other similar Achehnese documents (Arabic characters) stands in place of (Arabic characters).
  220. As regards the reverence paid to this teacher, who founded the order of Qādir iyyah, see p. 165.
  221. The Arabic afwāh, properly = "mouths", is used in Achehnese to signify the mediation or beneficent help of some illustrious personages, to which good fortune is often politely attributed in conversation.
  222. It is noticeable that the blessing is invoked of the identical sultans whose names appear in the chab sikureuëng. The only additional one is this Muhamat (1824–38). As a rule, only three or four of the names contained in the seals are repeated in documents such as these.
  223. Qurān 79 verse 24.
  224. As to this imaginary private secretary see above pp. 124–5.
  225. Chap halilintar, as the nine fold seal is officially called in Malay.
  226. The office of tandil, like so many others, has disappeared from Acheh and its very meaning is now lost; yet it still subsists as an hereditary title of certain chiefs in the highland districts of the West Coast. (This word, the Tamil "tanḍal" is in common use throughout the Malay Peninsula and Straits Settlements in the sense of the headman of a gang of coolies or of the crew of a boat. The original meaning according to Winslow is a collector of moneys, a "bill-collector", but it was also used for the captain of a cargo-boat, in which sense no doubt it first found its way to the Eastern Archipelago. (Translator).
  227. The whole content of this document, and especially this last clause, form an absurd contrast to the actual state of affairs in Acheh, and show the composition of the earlier models on which these letters patent are based to have been the work of ulamas. (See pp. 7–8 above).