CHAPTER 10

TRAGEDY IN LOMBOK

(1891-1894)

Origin in Bali and Lombok of Sasak Insurrections

The chain of events which culminated so disastrously in Bali proper with the puputan in Denpasar (1906) and Klungkung (1908) had, in fact, already led in 1894 to a penultimate climax in Lombok which was in certain respects even more shocking and horrible. The Lombok tragedy of 1894 clearly signaled the fate of the Dewa Agung and those of his vassals who objected to the active exercise of the Dutch sovereignty which they had long since acknowledged but never fully accepted. This catastrophe on the nearby island was directly related to the late nineteenth-century turbulence in Bali itself. In playing a minor role in the dissolution of the Dewa Agung’s empire, the state of Karangasem, a dependency of the Balinese Raja of Lombok, triggered a crisis which destroyed the Lombok rajadom.

Lombok and Karangasem enjoyed almost half a century of peace and obscurity between the troubles of the earlier part of the century and those which broke out in the 1890s. At the end of the Balinese–Dutch War of 1849, the Dutch rewarded the Raja of Lombok, who provided the troops which conquered Karangasem, by recognizing his claim to the state and permitting him to rule it through his own regent. Neither Karangasem nor Lombok gave the Dutch any special trouble for decades thereafter. In 1870 Lombok came under the rule of Raja Ratu Agung Gede Ngurah, who proved to be extraordinarily capable and durable. In Karangasem a Balinese prince of Lombok, Gusti Gede Putu, was Regent, but his half-brother, Gusti Gede Jelantik, had become the actual ruler.

Gusti Gede Jelantik; His Career in Bali and Lombok

Gusti Gede Jelantik, one of the most controversial figures in Balinese history, was a prince of the Balinese royal house of Karangasem who was born and brought up in Lombok and was treated by his uncle, the reigning Raja, as a prime favorite. In his early youth he fell in love with his uncle’s daughter whose caste (Brahman) was higher than his own (Wesya). When the affair resulted in accusations of defilement of caste, an offence for which the death penalty was mandatory, Gusti Jelantik was suddenly forced to flee to Bali, doing so, it seems, with the connivance of his uncle and his half-brother.

In Bali, very soon after his arrival, he all but openly ruled Karangasem. His domination of the state was so complete that when the Regent’s son committed the same offence of which he, Gusti Jelantik, had been guilty in Lombok, he prevailed upon the father to cause the son to fall by the kris. His influence over the Regent and his obvious intention to clear the way for his own succession aroused intense resentment among various members of the Karangasem court. But at just that time Karangasem was being pressured by Lombok to intervene in the wars in the southern Balinese states, and Gusti Jelantik was the obvious choice for command of the joint Karangasem–Lombok forces then assembling. His subsequent campaign in Klungkung ended in disaster, especially for the Lombok soldiers, who were poorly armed, clothed and provisioned and suffered frightful losses. These Lombok troops were reluctant recruits drafted from the native Sasak population into the service of their Balinese rulers. Their decimation in Klungkung combined with efforts to impress and send replacements precipitated outright Sasak rebellion at home. Gusti Jelantik, who had so recently been fighting a war for Lombok in Bali, was suddenly called upon to lead a Balinese expeditionary force of 1,500 men to go to the aid of the Raja of Lombok. Jelantik and his army crossed from Bali to Lombok on November 29, 1891, and there, for the next year, he himself was deeply involved in the tangled affairs of the Lombok rulers.

Royal Family of Lombok; the Raja; Gusti Made; Gusti Ketut

In 1891 Raja Ratu Agung Gede Ngurah was already long since past his prime, frail, deaf and at times childish. He was given to unpredictable displays of the alert intelligence for which he had been famous but also to studied or unstudied senility and stupidity. He had placed the affairs of the realm largely in the hands of his eldest son, Anak Agung Made, or Gusti Made, the son not of a noble wife but of a low caste concubine. According to conflicting accounts, Gusti Made was possessed of enormous capability and courage or of almost infinite craftiness and cruelty. As his heir apparent, the old Raja had designated his eldest son by a noble wife, Anak Agung Ketut, or Gusti Ketut, a youth who seemed to the Dutch to be moronic. Since the Raja had dozens of wives, scores of children and hundreds of royal relatives holding high positions at court, the rajadom was riddled with intrigue. The three closely adjacent towns of Ampenan (the port), Mataram (the seat of the Crown Prince) two and a half miles away, and Cakranegara (the seat of the Raja) a mile further distant, were Balinese-Hindu enclaves in an island where 95 percent of the people were resentful and rebellious Sasak Muslims. The Sasak complained, and were able to cite convincing evidence, that the Balinese rulers, especially Gusti Made, oppressed, exploited and terrorized them, in fact brazenly robbed and murdered, and might be planning a war of extermination of Muslims as a counter measure to Sasak rebellion. Such was the stage setting for the reappearance of Gusti Jelantik together with his force of 1,500 Balinese warriors at the court of the old Raja, with whom he swiftly re-established himself as favorite.

Sasak Petitions; Raja’s Appeal to the Dutch and the English

Both the Raja and the Sasak rebels had addressed themselves frequently to the Dutch, the Raja seeking aid in putting down the rebellion, the Sasak requesting a Dutch punitive expedition against the Balinese leaders and promising to join it. The Dutch were cool to the Raja’s advances, being much preoccupied at the time with a long and costly war in Aceh, Sumatra, and indisposed to open a distant second front. They sententiously reminded the Raja of their recently redefined colonial policy of “abstinence,” signifying non-intervention in local disputes. The Raja turned to Singapore, seeking to buy arms and charter ships and to invite the colonial British to intervene. He employed as his intermediary Said Abdullah, an Ampenan merchant who belonged to a wealthy and influential Singapore Arab family and held the post of Syahbandar which had once been occupied by Mads Lange and George Pocock King. Said Abdullah and his sons were murdered not long afterwards, presumably because they served also as intermediaries for the Sasak, who turned to them as co-religionists and potential confederates.

The Raja, it might seem, could have caused no greater dismay to the Dutch than to appeal to their British rivals, but he managed to compound his offence in an objectionable manner and thus to destroy the possibility that they would espouse his cause. When Dutch agents journeyed to Lombok to investigate the Sasak complaints—first and several times later a Controleur, once the Resident himself—the Raja refused on one flimsy pretext or another to receive them. The Dutch dignitaries indignantly departed to report unanimously that they had confirmed the worst of the Sasak charges and to recommend firm measures against the insolent and cruel Balinese. They had laboriously drafted a letter which was not exactly an accusation or an ultimatum but included nicely calculated nuances of both. They were especially annoyed that they were never able to deliver it.

Ultimatum and Military Expedition of 1894

In June 1894, when the Aceh war seemed to be won and troops could be released for other operations, the Governor-General drew up an ultimatum in which he made four demands, to which, later on, another three were appended. From the Raja he required: (1) sincere repentance for his disrespectful behavior; (2) solemn assurance of future compliance with Dutch wishes; (3) immediate banishment of the evil Gusti Made; (4) acceptance of Dutch mediation to restore peace between the Balinese and the Sasak; and later, (5) abdication in favor of the Crown Prince; (6) declaration of willingness to conclude new treaties; (7) payment of indemnity. The Raja rejected the ultimatum. The Dutch launched the Lombok Expedition.

The Lombok Expedition of 1894 was assembled in Batavia and Surabaya out of elements hastily withdrawn from Aceh and was placed under the command of Major-General J. A. Vetter with Major-General P. P. H. van Ham as his deputy. The designation of these two highly respected and experienced officers to joint command signified the importance which the Dutch attached to the new enterprise and the high regard in which they held Balinese warriors. The expeditionary fleet consisted of four warships and eleven transports. The land forces consisted of 107 Dutch officers, 1,320 European soldiers (including 175 cavalry), 948 indigenous troops (mainly Ambonese), 216 servants, 64 overseers and 1,718 convict laborers.

The invasion fleet arrived off Lombok on July 5 and the Generals at once sent the Raja another ultimatum which would expire at sunrise the following morning. The Raja sent back a messenger requesting three days’ delay, but the Dutch held to the original deadline and at 6:30 a.m. on July 6 they began landing their troops. They encountered no resistance whatever. The whole expedition was ashore by mid-afternoon and scouting parties were sent out into the countryside, where all seemed to be quiet. On July 8 a strong reconnoitering force set out in the direction of Mataram and Cakranegara with Generals Vetter and van Ham in the lead and Controleur Liefrinck accompanying them as representative of the Resident of Bali and Lombok and expert adviser on matters of local psychology and politics. The party very soon encountered Gusti Jelantik who had come, in fact, to intercept it and report to it on conditions at court. Gusti Jelantik engaged in a long and friendly conversation with the Dutch officials and promised to meet them again the next day after first conferring with the Raja and Gusti Made. He kept his July 9 appointment and informed the Dutch that the Raja accepted virtually all of their conditions. His report was confirmed the following day by a letter from the Raja requesting modification only of the provision with regard to Gusti Made, suggesting that arbitrary banishment might incense the people. He would prefer that the Dutch first conduct an on-the-spot inquiry into his alleged offences. The Commander replied that the prince must be surrendered to him at once or else the expedition would march upon Cakranegara as, on July 11, it did, no reply having yet been received.

The march on Cakranegara had barely begun before messengers arrived with a letter saying that the Raja had given Gusti Made the choice between exile and suicide. A second messenger followed hard upon the first to announce that, in fact, the prince had committed suicide and that his wife had joined him in death. The Dutch were skeptical but accepted the messenger’s suggestion that they send someone actually to view the bodies. The assignment fell to Controleur Liefrinck, who was personally acquainted with the people in question. Arriving in Cakranegara without incident, Liefrinck was admitted at once to the puri, which seemed to be virtually deserted, but was then subjected to a long wait. Eventually, he demanded to see Gusti Jelantik, who presently appeared, asked him to wait just a little longer, then vanished. After another long delay, Liefrinck again demanded to see Jelantik. The prince returned and escorted the Controleur into an interior courtyard in which lay two bodies clothed all in white. Liefrinck recognized one as that of Gusti Made, who just at that moment drew his last labored breath.

The Dutch never determined to their own satisfaction, and Gusti Jelantik never confided in them, exactly what had been the circumstances of the prince’s death. He had plunged his kris into his own heart, just as the old Raja had said, was the official version of the incident. Most people thought Gusti Jelantik had guided his hand. Others held that the old Raja had condemned him to death just then in expiation of the crime of incest and that the high priest had been the executioner. Whatever the true explanation, Gusti Made, whom the Dutch regarded as the evil genius behind the Lombok troubles, was undeniably and opportunely removed from the scene and there seemed to be no further obstacle to peaceful relations. The troops marched into Mataram and Cakranegara that same day through what appeared to be a friendly countryside. Seemingly cheerful spectators lined the roadways and the town markets remained open with stall keepers and buyers alike apparently unconcerned about any danger. Everybody, in fact, seemed much diverted by the military parade and delighted with the martial music.

General Vetter, General van Ham and Controleur Liefrinck took up residence in comfortable compounds requisitioned from the nobility. They adopted Gusti Jelantik as their confidant and intermediary in their relations with the local people. The troops settled themselves into bivouac areas on the outskirts of Cakranegara, Mataram and Ampenan, with the largest contingents in Cakranegara, and prepared to enjoy an agreeable stretch of not very strenuous occupation duty. The old Raja abdicated, the Crown Prince succeeded him and exchanged ceremonial calls with the Generals and the Controleur. Negotiations began for fulfilment of Dutch conditions, most of which the young Raja seemed to accept with such compliance and indeed indifference that the Dutch suspected, and Gusti Jelantik confirmed, that he really did not comprehend except when it came to payment of indemnity. The Dutch demanded fl. 1,000,000 and the prince quickly paid over the first three installments—200,000, 250,000 and 250,000 in silver coins—but not without evidence of anguish. The only real trouble the Dutch encountered came not from the Balinese but from the Sasak. It was part of the Dutch mission to reconcile the Sasak to Balinese rule, but it was not until they promised to station permanent Dutch representatives in Lombok to look out for Sasak interests that the Sasak leaders became receptive to Dutch suggestions.

The Generals were elated by their bloodless victory. The Controleur was delighted with progress in treaty-making and the troops were so relaxed in their bivouac areas that they neglected to take the most elementary precautions against trouble. They drilled and paraded and staged concerts of band music for great crowds of admiring, respectful spectators, among whom were many Balinese soldiers. It seemed only mildly curious that Gusti Jelantik’s own army of some 1,500 men from Bali proper still remained in Lombok, even though it had been several times scheduled to return home. Then in late August there were certain danger signals.

The Balinese soldiers became less respectful and, in fact, occasionally provocative, one of them, for instance, throwing a bottle at soldiers who were counting the coins in the latest installment of indemnity payment. One morning the market places were almost deserted and the population of both Mataram and Cakranegara seemed strangely diminished. Then came an informer on August 24 to report that the Balinese were planning a surprise attack upon Cakranegara for that same night. The Dutch sought to consult their trusted friend, Gusti Jelantik, and also the simple-minded young Raja. Both were much too ill, it seemed, to be visited. They sent a military doctor to diagnose Gusti Jelantik’s sudden seizure. He pronounced it a stupor induced by opium. It was already much too late in the day to stage an orderly withdrawal from Cakranegara, and to retreat in great haste, said Controleur Liefrinck, would only make the Dutch appear cowardly and ridiculous in the eyes of the bold, proud Balinese warriors. So they called a special alert and posted a heavy guard and the night passed without incident. They learned only much later that the Balinese had suddenly discovered that the horoscope readings were inauspicious for an August 24 attack. Next day the Dutch roused Jelantik from his torpor long enough to get him to swear that he had absolutely no knowledge of any conspiracy. That night, at 11:15, just as they were congratulating themselves that danger was quite certainly past, the attack came.

The camp in Cakranegara was suddenly surrounded by hundreds, perhaps thousands, of Balinese warriors, firing off rifles with deadly aim, their battle cries as blood-curdling as their attack was furious, massacring Dutch soldiers who had no place to take shelter. The attack continued all night. At 7:00 a.m. on August 26 the Dutch withdrew in reasonably good order to a nearby temple in which they would have stone walls to protect them. But they were without food, water or adequate ammunition, and the Balinese soon began boring holes through the walls and firing into the closely packed masses of troops in the restricted and sweltering compound. At 3:00 p.m. the Cakranegara forces began to retreat toward Mataram.

General van Ham himself was fatally wounded just after he emerged from the temple gateway. The troops suffered frightful losses as they moved from Cakranegara into and through the town of Mataram. The Balinese could and did take shelter behind thick stone walls in order to fire with quite devastating effect upon the confused Dutch ranks, especially at one point where the road made a right-angle turn. When the retreating troops reached the Mataram bivouac area, they discovered that the Mataram garrison had been subjected to equally strong attack and had already withdrawn toward the coast. The next day the Cakranegara forces also retreated to the port town of Ampenan, suffering losses all along the way but not as severe as on August 25–26. By final official report, once all the scattered detachments were accounted for, including several which had been dispatched to the interior and one which was captured—and freed—by the Balinese, the Dutch casualties on August 25–27 totaled 98 dead and 272 injured. The dead were 60 Europeans (nine officers) and 38 members of the Ambonese and other indigenous auxiliary forces. The injured were 121 Europeans (17 officers) and 151 indigenous auxiliaries.

General Vetter’s own telegraphic summation of the events of these dreadful days by which his career was irretrievably ruined warrants at least the following partial citation as a moving historical document:

Cakra attacked on the night of 25th. Firing continued all day. Losses in course of 26th are 14 killed and 85 wounded. No water, foraging impossible, losses increasing; at 3 p.m. retreated to Mataram. Baggage left behind so as to carry wounded in wagons. Heavy losses on the road. Situation Mataram worse. Camp deserted. Eight in the evening Bijlevelt’s column from the interior arrived, also heavy losses. Provisions failed, could not reach bivouac, communication with Ampenan interrupted, hemmed in between Cakra and Mataram; impossible to take offensive. Situation untenable on account of numbers wounded, on morning 27th retreated Ampenan in southerly direction, losses were comparatively small. Killed: four officers, 63 soldiers; Wounded: 12 officers, 153 soldiers; Missing: six officers, 143 soldiers. Four field guns left behind at Mataram. Nothing known of Van Lawick’s column in the interior.

“Treachery” of August 25–27; Puputan at Mataram and Sasari

The August 25–27 Battle of Cakranegara and Mataram entered Dutch colonial history as “The Lombok Betrayal” or “The Lombok Treachery.” When telegraphic word reached Batavia and the Netherlands, the wrath of the government and the people could only be assuaged by the immediate assembly and launching of a new expedition to reinforce the remnants of the old and to carry the battle back to its starting point. The reinforcements began arriving in Lombok in early September, eventually totaling at least another 1,000 officers and men, among them a higher percentage of Europeans than before. There were also large detachments of convict laborers—650 of them at first with more to follow.

The Dutch took every possible precaution against being surprised and advanced only very deliberately through the countryside in which every village proved to be strongly defended. Since each village was a maze of compounds with thick stone walls, the seizure of any one of them was no easy tactical maneuver. The Dutch resorted to virtual demolition, first laying down such heavy artillery fire that the walls began to crumble, and then, upon occupying a village, moving in the convict laborers to level the walls in order to preclude any possibility of reoccupation by the Balinese forces. Relentlessly they advanced upon Mataram, which they seized on September 29 and systematically razed, an enterprise which occupied them for the next several weeks. It was not until November 18 that they reached Cakranegara and not until November 19 that they actually occupied the whole of the city, subjecting it afterwards to the same treatment as Mataram.

In Mataram the defenders took up their final stand in the puri of the young Raja, who seems to have roused himself from his habitual torpor to lead them in the final act of defiance, which was the performance of the rite of the puputan. The Dutch finally broke into the puri over mounds of bodies which piled up without and within as the defenders performed the puputan. Among the corpses they discovered and with some difficulty identified that of the young Raja, so hideously mutilated that they later declined to show it to his grieving father. In Cakranegara, after a day of hard fighting, the Dutch next morning captured a deserted puri. The old Raja and his court had fled during the night to the nearby town of Sasari.

On November 20 the Dutch marched upon Sasari and demanded immediate surrender. The old Raja delayed for two hours, then, dressed all in yellow, seated in a palanquin carried by four slaves, accompanied by escorts who carried two golden parasols—all that remained of royal splendor—he caused himself and a grandson to be carried to the Dutch lines. The Dutch refused him his last request, that he be carried by his own bearers to whatever destination they chose. They assigned him convict bearers, who carried him to Ampenan, where he was held until he could be sent to Batavia. But the rest of the court refused to yield. There was therefore enacted yet once again the appalling rite of the puputan as men, women and children emerged as in a trance from the village and if they did not die by the kris, they rushed headlong into the fire of the troops. By Dutch count there perished that day at Sasari ten of the highest-ranking noblemen of the kingdom and 50 of their wives and children. Even this was not the finale. More and more people reported themselves to surrender, but others, including the next heir apparent, Anak Agung Nengah Ka-rang, fled to a village still further distance, where, on November 26, occurred the last attack and puputan.

Before they razed the puri in Mataram and Cakranegara the Dutch afforded both the native and the European troops opportunity to ransack and loot while officers sequestered the treasure which they found in the royal storerooms. In Mataram they found 1,000 pounds of gold and 6,996 pounds of silver, and that was only a part of the booty. In Cakranegara they discovered to their amazement a room fifty feet square in which silver coins were heaped six feet high. Other valuables such as kris and ceremonial vessels of sold and silver were piled upon the money. Together with fl. 450,000 of indemnity which the Dutch sent out from Cakranegara before the surprise attack or else carried with them in their retreat, the proceeds of the Lombok War much more than offset the total expenditures, which, according to announcement in Parliament, came to exactly fl. 2,658,917.

Fate of the Raja, Lombok and Gusti Gede Jelantik

The Dutch thus swiftly and to their own satisfaction wound up the Lombok campaign. The deposed Raja was sent off to exile in Batavia, where his arrival and transit from the port of Tanjung Priok to the residence which the Dutch made available to him on Tanah Abang created a momentary public sensation. He died on May 20 of the following year, then all but forgotten and unattended, most of his own people having repudiated him for not having led the puputan.

As for Gusti Jelantik, who vanished from Lombok and reappeared in Bali well before the seizure of Mataram and Cakranegara, the Dutch debated just how to reward or punish what had been, according to variant versions, his singular services or deceptions. They decided at last to make him Regent of Karangasem. Although he experienced grave difficulties at first with his own subjects and aroused profound misgivings on the part of the Controleurs, he proved, in fact, to be a loyal and effective ruler. In Lombok itself the Dutch established direct rule through an Assistant Resident and three Controleurs, dividing the state into 24 districts, 12 of them presided over by Balinese and 12 by Sasak chieftains. Lombok began almost immediately to prosper again and so too did Karangasem. Nevertheless, the events in Lombok in 1894 left deep scars upon the Balinese soul and the Dutch conscience.