maintained was via the incessant struggle of keeping the forces of nature at bay. For the Malays of the archipelago, the forests that encircled their riverine and coastal settlements were actually barriers to their movement and freedom. While the sea was the open plain where they roamed and ruled, the forest was the insurmountable obstacle that kept the Malays perpetually corralled by the forces of nature. This geographical factor explains why the Malays viewed the forest in the way that they did.
The forest that surrounded the Malay world was an unknown, mysterious and at times impenetrable space. In its dense, humid and dark undergrowth, the forces of nature ran riot. Demons and ghosts lurked within the forest, inhabiting the trees and swamps, forever on the lookout for wandering human beings who had strayed too far from the protective confines of their homes and villages. For the people of the archipelago, the forest was, at best, a place where one's character could be put to the test, and, at worst, an infernal green hell where one ultimately became the meal of predators and foul spirits. Southeast Asia abounds with tales of heroes who had to undergo their trials in the middle of the foreboding forest.3
What was worse, the natural environment of the forest also tended to encroach onto the world of men and their civilization at every given opportunity. Should the borders of civilized Malay society recede, the creeping tendrils of the natural forest would immediately advance to fill the void. The forest was a stark contrast to the orderly world of the Malays, which was governed by norms and protocols of religion and civilized society, and the Malays could not help but wish to keep these natural forces at bay. George Maxwell (1907) described the Malay view of the forest thus: 'The forest envelopes their homes and their lives; but the more they explore it the more they know that it is a world apart. That it is so near and extends so far adds to its majesty and terror.'
An early 20th-century jungle scene in central Malaya taken by the Sumatran-based photographer C.J. Kleingrothe. It illustrates the lush natural environment in which the Malays of the 18th and 19th centuries lived. Photograph reproduced by permission of the Syndics of Cambridge University Library.
The Malays knew that whenever they entered the forests they were trespassing into another realm which they were not the masters of. Therefore, they prepared themselves with all manner of charms and esoteric knowledge (ilmu) that would be used to keep the hidden forces of the forests at bay. When they ventured into the jungle in search of wood or provisions, they were careful to begin their expedition by first hailing the spirits of the forests. They would read out certain time-tested charms such as the one below. Such charms or mantras were designed to ensure that no harm would come to the individual or his family and community as a result of this act of transgression into the unknown. Yet, between the known world of men and the unknown world of the jungle, there stood one common element that was shared between the two: the tree.
It was, in fact, the tree, one of the most vital elements in the natural environment, that kept the forces of nature in check. The tree was magical, but far from sinister. For it was the tree that provided the Malays with the defences and fortifications that protected their settlements and towns. The walls and palisades that were made from the trunks of trees and from bamboo were the barriers that kept out the numerous threats from the world of men and nature. Both invading armies and wild beasts (not to mention ghosts and forest spirits) were thus kept at bay.
| Assalamualaikum, | Assalamualaikum, |
| Aku datang ini bersahabat sahaja, | I have come in peace, and friendship, |
| Sahaja nak mencari hat kebidupan, | Come to seek my livelihood, |
| Janganlah engkau mengharu-hara aku, | (O ye spirits) please do not harm me, |
| Dan anak isteri aku, | Or my family, |
| Dan rumah tangga aku, | Or my home, |
| Dan segala kampung halaman aku, | Or my village and community, |
| Aku yang nak tumpang sababat ini, | For 1 count on your good will, |
| Mintalah selamat pulang balik. | And may you let me return safely. |
The tree was also the vital source that provided so much material for the daily maintenance of civilized Malay life. Wood was the natural element that kept Malay society together, literally. It provided them with houses, and within those houses, walls. (Thus the tree not only kept out the forces of nature, it also served to ensure that the existing social relations within this compartmentalized society could be maintained as well.) Trees provided the Malays with tools to work with, to farm with, to write with, to eat with and to fight with. It was, in short, the singular natural element upon which all of Malay civilization depended. Civilization, as the Malays knew it then, was almost impossible without this natural element. However, the Malays never forgot the fact that the tree also came from that chaotic and uncontrollable world of natural forces. Its presence in the midst of human society signified the penetration of nature into the world of men. As such, its status and role in the context of Malay civilization was always an ambiguous one.
The tree was the boundary marker that denoted the distinction between the kasar and the halus, the jungle and the settlement, the chaos without and the order of things within. It was therefore accorded the respect and awe that was due to it. And even when it was brought within the purview of human civilization as a resource and tool, it maintained its aura of mystery as something that was originally beyond the pale of humanity. Like that other vital natural element, fire, the tree was something that was necessary for human survival, but it needed to be kept under control. Thus the tree became, and remains, a curious totem or fetish of some unknown and mysterious force of nature. The belief in the semangat, or vital force', of nature and of trees, in particular, ensured that the Malays' attitude towards trees and wood was a carefully regulated and circumscribed one. The tree was so highly esteemed because it provided the Malays with one of the most indispensable elements used to build the Malay world: wood. Malay kingdoms, as we have seen, were dependent on wood in every respect. Thus, the possession and utilization of wood, and good wood, in particular, became part of the Malays' expression of largesse, power and civilization.
In the use of trees for wood and woodcarving, however, the Malays were particularly careful not to upset the natural equilibrium that maintained the balance and harmony between the world of men and nature. Malay woodcarving thus evolved a complex and advanced code and hermeneutics of its own, and eventually reached the status of a fine art that ranked as high as any philosophical system that had been developed by the Malay mind.
Cengal (Neobalanocarpus heimii), a tree of the deep forest, was domesticated in the 19th century and planted in the compounds of wealthy families to provide a ready source of timber. A hard, durable wood, resistant to insect attack, it is used for almost all structural elements in a building, but is also suitable for decorative panelling.
HILT, KERIS TAJONG (KW109)
Kelantan, late 20th c., kenaung wood, 16.5 x 15.25 x 5 cm
The sharply uptilted nose, the eye ornamentation and the strong lines of the jaw and crown combine to convey an aggressive quality in this highly ornamented hilt. The cup supporting the base of the hilt, called a pendokok, is made of silver, ornamented with pucuk rebung (bamboo shoot) and telurikan (fish egg) motifs. Carved by Nik Rashiddin Nik Hussein.
The Spirit of Wood in
