1 Introduction

The Islamization of Java is apparent since the fourteenth century when Islamic graves began to be built near the Hindu-Majapahit royal court. It has been assumed that the process was made easy by the spread of Sufism, a current within Islam which seeks union with God, and as such may have appealed to the mystically-minded Javanese. The same explanation is used in connection with pre-Islamic pantheistic philosophy, which seems to oppose the direct adoption of Islamic monotheism and jurisprudence. However, we have not had adequate discussions of the consequences of adopting the term “Sufism.” According to Yasushi Tonaga, Sufism can be analyzed along three axes: mysticism, ethics, and popular veneration, with changing preferences over the course of time (Tonaga 2005). Still, we do not know what type of Sufism we are dealing with, and how it developed in Java.

In Java, the Sufi saints referred to as walis are well known. Local society believes that Islam spread peacefully in Java as an achievement of the legendary Nine walis (J. wali sanga).¹ Actually, the number of walis is not nine, and their names are not fixed. One of the earliest Javanese manuscripts,² called the Ferrara kropak,³ describes the Deliberation of Saints (J. Musawaratan para wali) held on the Gunung Kadaton, and the number of the walis who appear there is eight (Drewes 1978). Probably, later Javanese tradition set the number of walis at nine. The famous wali sanga are included in the larger number of walis who appear in the annals of the Javanese kingdoms and are believed to have spread the faith of Islam to this island in the fifteenth to sixteenth centuries. Many legends in all areas of Java ascribe numerous elements of culture to them (musical instruments, shadow plays, works of literature and so on). However, the truth of such stories, or sometimes even the very existence of some of these walis, is difficult to prove because of the limited availability of historical sources. Some walis have several tombs in different areas. Most of the manuscript sources on the walis are relatively recent copies from the nineteenth century.

Sunan Bonang, whom I discuss in this chapter, is one of the most famous walis among the nine. His father, Sunan Ampel, is the progenitor of the nine walis and is believed to have been the teacher of Raden Patah, the first king of Demak, which was the first Islamic kingdom in Java. He himself also converted Sunan Kalijaga, a legendary hero throughout Java, to Islam. In the popular story of Siti Jenar, Sunan Bonang is the representative of the “right” walis who punished Siti Jenar for being heretical (nevertheless, Siti Jenar has enjoyed popularity in Javanese society to the present). The Babad Tanah Jawi, the chronicle of the Mataram kingdom, only mentions that Sunan Bonang had many disciples and exerted extensive religious influence, especially after Raden Patah defeated Majapahit and became the king of Demak. One of the deeds attributed to him was the forging of a holy sword, part of the royal treasure.

Sunan Bonang is also credited as the author of many religious poems, as Drewes (1968) emphasizes. The most famous of these is one of the few surviving sixteenth-century manuscripts, which B.J.O. Schrieke estimated in his 1916 doctoral dissertation to have been written by Sunan Bonan himself (Schrieke 1916). What is even more interesting is that the content of this manuscript is not the legendary tales common in the later manuscripts and oral traditions of Java, but rather a discussion of Islamic doctrine. G.W.J. Drewes (1899–1992), who published the text of the manuscript in transcription with an English translation in 1969, gave the text the title of “The admonitions of Seh Bari.” It is a valuable source of information on Islamic doctrine in the sixteenth century, especially because the sayings and deeds of walis known in the oral tradition of popular veneration are legendary and insufficient for analyzing the contents of their doctrine. In the Babad Tanah Jawi, the Mataram Kingdom Chronicle, the walis have the supernatural power of prophecy and have a role in giving legitimacy to the kingdoms, but their doctrine is never discussed.

It is difficult to ascertain whether these latter teachings can represent the religious situation of the time in Java. As for Sunan Bonang, it stands to reason that a meticulous comparison between the text of the sixteenth century manuscript and the other writings ascribed to him is urgently called for. However, the purpose of this chapter is to discuss some focal points of Islamic doctrine apparently current at the time by analyzing the sixteenth century text, not to ascertain its authorship. Rather, we should take into consideration the meaning of the claim that Bonang wrote this text.

Before going into the main topic, since the purpose of this volume is to explore new directions in the study of Javanese literature, it is important to ask whether this sixteenth century text falls into the category of “literature” in the first place. Therefore, this chapter follows the definition of Javanese literature as suggested by Th.G.Th. Pigeaud in his book Literature of Java, i.e., “any text written in Javanese is considered as belonging to literature and registered as such, because all texts can supply information on Javanese civilization in its various aspects” (Pigeaud 1967, 1: 2). According to the four-stage development of Javanese literature he proposed, this text belongs to the Pasisir (north coast) literature phase, the third era which began around 1500 CE when Javanese literature developed under the influence of Islam, mainly at the port cities on the north coast. Pasisir literature was created by borrowing vocabulary from the Malay, Arabic, and Persian languages. This is because these languages had already been used as a medium to disseminate Islamic literature in Southeast Asia outside of Java. However, many elements of the pre-Islamic Old Javanese literature were also assimilated into Java’s northern coast (J. pasisir) literature (Pigeaud 1967, 1: 6–7; Robson 1981: 281–88). At first, “the mystic and the legalistic orthodox currents existed side by side,” and the mystic legendary tales seem to have been popular in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Pigeaud listed the text which I discuss here under “Notes on theology and mysticism” (Pigeaud 1967, 1: 78–81). While the content is indeed a doctrinal treatise on theology and mysticism, the format is didactic fiction, depicting a question-and-answer dialogue between a teacher named Seh Bari and his disciple.

2 The Manuscript

The text is contained in Cod. Or. 1928 of Leiden University Library. Before being published by Drewes, it had been published by B.J.O. Schrieke as his dissertation in 1916, under the title “Het boek van Bonang” (the book of Bonang), as mentioned above. The manuscript formed part of a collection of manuscripts in the possession of Bonaventura Vulcanius, professor of Greek at Leiden University in the period 1578–1614. According to Schrieke, the manuscript was acquired at an East Javanese port (Sedayu or Tuban) during one of the first two voyages by the Dutch to Indonesia before 1600. It was probably presented to Vulcanius by one of his students, who was in contact with the organizers of the voyages to the East.

The manuscript consists of 88 pages of Javanese paper measuring 18 by 25 cm. The text numbers 83 pages. The manuscript is “bound in a shabby European cover with a parchment spine and has a double fly-leaf at the front and back” (Drewes 1969: 2). According to Taco Roorda (1801–74, professor of Javanese in Delft and Leiden), the manuscript was written in a type of Javanese script that shows the peculiarities of the north coast of Java, not of Central Java (Drewes 1969: 3).

The author of the text is assumed to be Sunan Bonang, on the basis of what is written by the copyist in the final line of the text: “Tammat carita cinitra, kang pakrĕti Pangeran ing Benang (Thus ends the written story, the author is the Lord of Bonang).” The text is written in the form of questions and answers exchanged between a teacher, Seh Bari,⁴ and his pupil. The name of the pupil is not mentioned, but Schrieke concluded that this pupil must be Sunan Bonang, the text being based on the disciple’s memory of the instructions given by his teacher. It is not clear who this “Seh Bari” is. He is not one of the nine walis, nor is he known to be a famous wali. Drewes adds the information that a group of manuscripts originating from Banyumas in Central Java mention the name of Seh Bari as a teacher of a famous school in Karang, Banten, West Java (Drewes 1969: 8–13). In the text, however, the teacher talks about admonitions from imam Ghazali⁵ (1058–1111) on heresy to a certain three Javanese teachers as if he were witnessing the scene. It is not clear whether “Seh Bari” really existed, or whether the author of the text created the story for the purpose of preaching.

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Kitab Pangeran Bonang, late 16th century (?)

Leiden University Library, Cod. Or. 1928, ff. 2–3

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In this chapter, I do not intend to participate in the debate on whether the author of this text really is Sunan Bonang, or who Seh Bari is.⁶ The point on which I focus is that this manuscript was copied in sixteenth-century Java and is ascribed to Sunan Bonang who is a central figure among the walis. This means that this text reflects a contemporaneous discussion, and the copyist insists that the views expressed here are the correct ones.

This text is mentioned by Ricklefs and Zoetmulder in their books (Ricklefs 2006; Zoetmulder 1995), but it has not been fully analyzed, presumably because they thought its content was only a dogmatic argument translated from Arabic literature and did not reflect Javanese society at the time. Here I refer to the translation and transcription of Drewes and Schrieke, but I also use my own when necessary because I found some differences between their two transcriptions, and I also wish to make the translation more literal.⁷

3 The Contents of the Text

At the beginning of the text, the author writes that it contains the words of Seh Bari addressed to his friends about the meaning of usul suluk (principles of the knowledge concerning the journey along the mystical path), quoting from the Iḥyāʾ ʿUlūm al-Dīn and the Tamhīd:⁸

Nyan punika caritanira Sekhul Bari tatkalanira apitutur dhatĕng mitranira kabeh; kang pinituturakĕn wirasaning usul suluk, wĕdaling carita saking kitab Ihya ulumi din, lan saking Tamhid, antukira Sekhul Bari, amĕtheti tingkahing sisimpĕnan, ing nabi wali mukmin kabeh. (Cod. Or. 1928: 1–2)

This is the tale of Seh Bari when imparting instruction to all his friends as to the meaning of the principles of the knowledge concerning the journey on the mystical path. The narrative comes forth from the Iḥyāʾ ʿUlūm al-Dīn and the Tamhīd. Seh Bari took parts that were hidden by all the prophets, walis and true believers.

After this, the conversation between Seh Bari and his pupil begins. The term suluk (path) is difficult to define precisely here. But the term being used in the beginning gives the impression that the goal of this text is to teach some form of mysticism. Contrary to that expectation, however, the explanation by Seh Bari about God’s transcendence, repeated in several ways, occupies most of their conversations. And, although the author claimed that Seh Bari’s teachings are quoted from al-Ghazālī’s Iḥyāʾ, the main theme of the conversation is God’s transcendence and the relationship between the divine being and human beings. Explanations about virtue and vice as described in the Iḥyāʾ only appear in the last part of the text (Cod. Or. 1928: 75–83). The exact title of the Tamhīd (“Preface”) is unknown, so its contents cannot be identified.

In his explanation of the “correct” teachings on God’s transcendence Seh Bari first mentions the names of several persons who spread “wrong” teachings as kafirs (infidels). Seh Bari repeatedly explains what kinds of understanding of the faith are wrong, or what kinds of understanding can turn people into infidels. The persons and teachings characterized as infidel or wrong are those of Abdulwahid ibni Makiyah (ʿAbd al-Wāḥid b. Makkiyya), Bataniyah (Ar. Bāṭiniyya), Karamiyah (Ar. Karrāmiyya), Muntanengiyah (Ar. Muṭāʿiyya), Arabiyya (Ibn al-ʿArabī), and three “shek” who are allegedly denounced by al-Ghazālī (Shek Sufi, Shek Nuri, Shek Jaddi). Except for Ibn al-ʿArabī (1165–1240), the identity of these persons and schools is not known due to a lack of information. The descriptions of the last three sheks are presented as if Seh Bari had had a conversation on this subject with al-Ghazālī himself, as if the two were acquainted. Since al-Ghazālī lived in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, it is unlikely that Seh Bari spoke directly with him. However, by claiming to have spoken with al-Ghazālī, we can see that the author wants to emphasize the importance of this teaching on heresy and orthodoxy. The explanations that appear in the text appear to be too difficult for the average Javanese of the time to understand, but they clearly show that there was a conflict of views about what the orthodox teaching was.

4 God’s Transcendence; the Use of Negation

The introductory lines are followed by what Seh Bari has to say about the oneness of God:

Miwah kawruhana yan sira Pangeran, tunggal tan kakalih; saksenana yan sira Pangeran, asifat sadya suksma, mahasuci tunggalira, tan ana papa-dhanira, kang mahaluhur. (Cod. Or. 1928, 2)

And know that the Lord is one and not two. Bear witness that the Lord has eternity and immateriality, that All Pure is His Oneness, and that there is none like him who is Most High.

Here it is claimed that God has two attributes (sifat), sadya and suksma. The word sadya has several meanings. In Modern Javanese sadya means “aim, intention, purpose, resolution, what a person intends or wills to do; to intend or will (doel, bedoeling, oogmerk, voornemen, war iemand van zins of gezind is te doen; van zins of gezind zijn, voornemens zijn)” (Gericke-Roorda 1901, 1: 794). In Old Javanese, sādhya means “object to be obtained, aim, goal, desire” (Zoetmulder 1982: 1590). In Malay, sĕdia means “already; admittedly; of old; ready; prepared; at all times; immemorial” (Wilkinson 1932: 399). In Javanese, suksma means “soul, immaterial.” In Old Javanese the word suksma (originally from Sanskrit) means “subtle, unsubstantial, not accessible to the usual organs of perception, but perceptible to those gifted with supernatural powers; invisible, immaterial; to assume an invisible state, disappear” (Zoetmulder 1982: 1841–42).

Next follows the explanation of the meaning of the confession of faith:

Iki si lafale, tingkahing anakseni ing Pangeran, Wa-ashhadu an lā ilāha illāʾllahu waḥdahu, lā sharīka lahu, wa-ashhadu anna Muḥammadan rasūluʾllāhi, tĕgĕse iku ingsun anakseni, kaananing Pangeran, kang anama Allah, kang asifat sadya suksma,⁹ langgĕng kĕkĕl, wibuh sampurna, purba kadim, sifatira mahasuci, orana Pangeran sabĕnĕre, anging Allah uga Pangeran kang sinĕmbah, sabĕnĕre kang agung. (Cod. Or. 1928: 3)¹⁰

These are the words, the way of bearing witness to the Lord: Wa-ashhadu an lā ilāha illāʾllahu waḥdahu, lā sharīka lahu, wa-ashhadu anna Muḥammadan rasūluʾllāhi, i.e. I bear witness to the eternal and immaterial Being of the Lord whose name is Allah. His attributes are eternity, everlastingness, perfection, and all pureness. There is no Lord but Allah, the object of our devotion, He the truly high.

After this, an explanation is given of the meaning of the word “no” (ora/nora), because the confession of faith begins with the word of denial.

He mitraningsun, karana satuhune lafal nora iku, nora malih angorakĕna satuhuning Allah, Pangeran, nora malih angorakĕna Pangeran siya-siya. (…)

Kewala si lafal nora iku, sikĕping wong kang sinung wasil paningale, kang antuk pasthining iman sakadare, ika, kewala lafal nora iku ingkang andĕlingakĕn mahasucining Pangeran, yan tunggal tanpa kufu, iku siptane, kang anduweni sabda iku. (Cod. Or. 1928: 3–4)

My friends, in reality, pronouncing the word “no” does not negate the reality of Allah as God; nor does it rashly negate the Lord (…)

So, as for the word “no,” for one who has been granted the vision of union and has acquired a surety of faith to the greatest extent possible, the word “no” is what shows the Absolute Purity of Allah, who is one without any equal. That is the understanding of one who possesses the Word.

Therefore, Seh Bari uses a word of negation, “no” (ora), to explain the singularity of God and he begins his long and esoteric expositions about the differences between the heretical teachings and his own by expounding on the meaning of the word “no.” He explains that a heretical scholar named ʿAbd al-Wāḩid b. Makkiyya from Mecca offers wrong understandings of nothingness.

He mitraningsun, aja sira kadi ujaring wong sasar.

Iku si ujaring wong sasar iku, ʿAbdulwahid arane, mangka angucap ʿAbdulwahid, ibni Makiyah, anak pandhita Mĕkah ika, atunggul sastra, tan apaut kalawan tĕgĕse. (Cod. Or. 1928: 6–7)

My friends! Do not follow the opinion of those who went astray! Here is an example of the doctrine of such a person, ʿAbd al-Wahid by name. ʿAbd al-Wahid ibn Makkiyya, the son of a Meccan scholar, taught in keeping with the text, but not in conformity with the meaning. (Drewes 1969: 43)

Then, Seh Bari quotes an account written in Arabic by a scholar named ʿAbd al-Wāḥid, and gives its Javanese translation as follows.

Al-aṭhalu ’l-qadīmu, wa-huwa nafsu ’l-muṭlaqi, wa-huwa dhātuʾllāh taʿālā, ḥaqqun maʿbūdun, tĕgĕse kang liwung sadya iku, iya iku dhātu ʿllah, sabĕnĕr-bĕnĕre Pangeran kang sinĕmbah,¹¹ tatapi ta nafining Allah, liwunging Allah iku nora yan suwunga, Walakin qabla halki rasuili Muhammad, tatapi ta sadurunging andadekĕn nabi Mohammad,¹² anging sira Pangeran kang ana dhewek tanpa rowang, norana kawula sawijia, kadi ta angganing sungging sadurunging andadekĕn panuli, sadurunging anulis, iya iku tĕgĕsing liwung nafi dhātuʾllah, nora ing dheweke. (Cod. Or. 1928: 7)

Al-aṭhalu ’l-qadīmu, wa-huwa nafsu ’l-muṭlaqi, wa-huwa dhātuʾllāh taʿālā, ḥaqqun maʿbūdun, It means that Primordial Void (liwung sadya) is the dhatuʾllah, the Essence of the adored Lord, [Arabic quotation lacking] but this Divine nothingness, this Divine Void is not empty. Walakin qabla halki rasuili Muhammad i.e.: but before the creation of Muhammad the Apostle [Arabic quotation lacking], the only one in existence was the Lord and He alone, without any servant. He may be compared to a painter before he has made his brush and before he has set to work. This is the meaning of the Essence of Allah being the Void, the Nothingness as such. (Drewes 1969: 43)

The word liwung often appears in the text and refers to the dhatuʾllah, the Essence of God. In the quoted Arabic text, the word aṭhal is the original word for liwung. This means “destitute, devoid.” Drewes translates the word liwung as “Void.” And it also seems to refer to the condition before the Creator began his act of creation. But it is not clear what the author or Seh Bari means by this word because, according to Modern Javanese dictionaries liwung means “furious, raging, senseless, crazed” (Robson and Wibisono 2002: 449), or “frantic from an attack, senseless from despair or sadness; mad with infatuation” (“verwoed van een aanval, zinneloos van radeloosheid of droefheid; dol van verliefdheid,” Gericke-Roorda 1901, 2: 125). It seems that the meaning is contradictory. In Old Javanese the word means “vast and deep (of water, cave, ravine)” (Zoetmulder 1982: 1042). In Modern Javanese we find the expression alas gung liwang-liwung, which means “extensive and dense jungle” (Poerwadarminta 1939: 276; Robson and Wibisono 2002: 449).¹³ It is possible that the author imagines a vast and deep jungle when describing the primordial universe. According to Soewojo Wojowasito, we can also find in the Kawi lexicon the expression aliwung-liwung, which means “empty; mentally deranged” (Mills 1980: 484). The meaning of the word sadya following liwung is aim or intention as mentioned above, but here we see that the original Arabic word is qadīm, which means “time long since past, old times; time immemorial; infinite pre-existence; timelessness (of God)” (Wehr 1994: 877).

Here it is argued that this liwung sadya, translated by Drewes as Primordial Void, is the Essence of God and that it is not empty. Seh Bari, however, rejects as false Abdul Wahid’s explanation that this liwung sadya is the state of the universe before the birth of Muhammad.

Mangka anabda Shekhul Bari, he mitraningsun, pamanggihingsun ta nora mongkono, kaya ʿAbdulwahid iku, karana satuhune pangucape ʿAbdulwahid iku kufur ing patang madahab; dhatu llah den-arani nafi, nora ing dheweke, kalawan sira Pangeran den-arani durung andadekĕn ing rasulullah, durung andadekĕn ing sawiji-wiji, iku kufure, karana satuhune kaananing Pangeran, sadya purba. (Cod. Or. 1928, 8–9)

Seh Bari said, My friends! My opinion is not like that of ʿAbd al-Wāḥid because in fact his statement is disbelief from the perspective of the four madahab; the Essence of Allah is said to be nothingness (nafi), non-being itself. And he says that God had not created the Apostle or anything yet. This shows his infidelity because in fact, the existence of God is since all eternity.

Mangka anabda ShehulBari, he mitraningsun, ʿAbdulwahid angucap kang liwung den tĕgĕsaken maring ora ikupon kufur, karana tĕgĕsing liwung iku suksmaning Pangeran, mahasuci sadya ananira tan ana wikana ing suksmanira, tan lyan piambĕkira uga, punika rĕke tĕgĕsing kang liwung sadya wruh ing suksmanira piambĕk. (Cod. Or. 1928, 9)

Seh Bari said, My friends! It is from unbelief that ʿAbd al-Wāḥid teaches that Void is interpreted as non-being (ora), because the meaning of Void is the immateriality of the Lord, whose Being is All-Pure and eternal. And his immateriality is unknown to anyone but Himself. What is meant by the Primordial Void is that He knows His own Immateriality.

Seh Bari explains that liwung does not mean “no” (ora) or “empty” (kosong) but the suksma (immateriality) of the eternal and transcendent God, an attribute which only He knows. This description of the universe can lead us to imagine pantheistic philosophy even if we cannot make clear yet what the word liwung means. However, Seh Bari continues explaining God’s transcendence and His attributes using various concepts, and emphasizes the differences between the characteristics of the Creator and the created, while mentioning the names of erroneous scholars.

5 The Universe and Ibn al-ʿArabī

Among these erroneous scholars Ibn al-ʿArabī is one of the most criticized. First, Seh Bari does so as follows:

Utawi ana wong sasar sawiji, Arabiyah arane, akĕcap, sadurunging ana jagad iki kabeh, nama Allah pon dereng nyata, lan dereng ana, iku dhat, mangkana malih dhat iku anyatakakĕn ing asmanira, sarta lan dadine jagad iki, kabeh, ingupamakakĕn dhat iku, kadi angganing wiji-sawiji, awit agodhong, akĕmbang awoh, iku sami amuji ing wit, lintang nekmate, rasane manise, godhong sĕkar woh iku, singgih punika rahasya kabeh, rahasyaning wit, … . (Cod. Or. 1928: 27–28)

There is another person who has lost his way. His name is ʿArabiyya. He teaches as follows; Before this world came into being even the name of Allah had not become manifest and did not exist. This was at the grade of Essence (dhat). The Essence manifested its names together with the genesis of the universe. The Essence may be compared to a body of origin which comprises leaves, flowers, and fruits. All these praise their origin; delicious and sweet-flavored are the leaves, flowers, and fruits and all this is a mystery, the secret of its provenance.

Jagad iki kabeh, gĕlaring wiji sawiji, maksih sawiji tan ana wawaneh. Kadi ta angganing wĕsi bariyuh sawiji, wontĕn dadi tumbak, dadi dhuhung, tatah wadung, panyukur, dadi usu, cacathut, ĕdom kadut, linĕbur pinalu dadi tosan malih, dene si angsale saking wĕsi sawiji, mulih kajatine sawiji; mangkana malih, osiking jiwaraga iki osiking dhatu ʿllah, paningaling kawula iki rahasyaning dhatu ʿllah, kang angucap iki pasthi kinĕkĕlaken sasoring narakaning kafir, kang anĕmbah ing brahala ika. (Cod. Or. 1928: 28–29)

This whole universe has sprung from one seed, and this is still the only seed. It is like a piece of iron which may be made into a pike, a kris, a chisel, a hatchet, a blade for shaving, a wusu [a bow-shaped tool for cleaning cotton], pincers or sacking-needle, but melted down all these objects once more become iron; originating from one piece of iron they are made again into one. In the same way the actions of the individual body and soul are the actions of God’s essence. The vision of the individual (kawula: servant) is the secret of God’s Essence. Whoever teaches this is doomed to stay forever at the bottom of the hell of the idolaters.

Since the original Arabic text is not cited, it is unclear whether these explanations of Seh Bari are quotations from Ibn al-ʿArabī. However, although the name of the doctrine that Ibn Arabi is believed to have advocated,¹⁴ wahdat al-wujud (Ar. waḥdat al-wujūd: Oneness of being / Unity of existence), is not found in the text, Seh Bari clearly states that Ibn al-ʿArabī is a scholar spreading false teachings, and carefully describes the philosophy of Ibn al-ʿArabī using meticulous examples closely related to the daily life of the Javanese. The concept of wahdat al-wujud, often also regarded as “pantheism,” holds that God is the only true being and that all other beings are temporary or illusory, and the entire universe is understood as the self-manifestation of the One. After this, Seh Bari continues with his criticism of statements about the existence of the world before the appearance of God. Above all, what Seh Bari is clearly arguing is that even if God and man are one, the actions of man, the servant, absolutely do not determine the actions of God. He is adamant in his criticism of any understanding that would reverse the relationship between God and man.

He mitraningsun, sira Pangeran, agĕlar ing kawidagdanira, anyatakĕn ing saniskara kabeh, kasaktenira, dhat sifat afaʾalira, kalawan kawruhana salwiring pakaryanira, norana apakarana saking kawula, utawi anaa sakĕdhep netra ing angĕn-angĕne, anaa uga apakarana saking kawula, kufur. (Cod. Or. 1928: 30)

My friends! Displaying His wisdom, the Lord made manifest the whole universe, His power, attributes, and works. None is induced by man. Should you imagine even momentarily that this could be the case, then you are guilty of unbelief. (Drewes 1969: 61)

Ibn al-ʿArabī’s leading thought is the ontology of wahdat al-wujud and the theory of the “perfect man” (insan kamil, Ar. al-insān al-kāmil), and there are passages in the text that seem to be an explanation of this “perfect man.” However, Seh Bari does not criticize this “perfect man”; Seh Bari uses the expression “excellent man,” not perfect man. Seh Bari answers affirmatively to the pupil’ s question as to what the wong lĕwih (excellent man) is. The term wong lĕwih is translated as “perfect man” by Drewes and Zoetmulder (Drewes 1969: 47, 65; Zoetmulder 1995: 84). This translation can be expected to be made in reference to Ibn al-ʿArabī’s insan kamil (perfect man) even though the term insan kamil does not occur in the text. Seh Bari explains wong lĕwih as follows:

Mangka matur Rijal, ya guru amba, punapa ta puniku lampahing wong lĕwih.

Mangka anabda ShehulBari, he Rijal, lampahing wong lĕwih iku kabeh, yen ta sira wikana, mangkana¹⁵ luputa ing paninggalira iku kabeh, mapan sakathahing kang karasa, ingkang tiningalan, miwah ing osike jiwaraganira iku kabeh ing ĕnĕnge, ing dukacipta nastapane, kabeh iku dudu lan dheweke, saparti bathang lumampah, anging lumampah lan idining¹⁶ sih, kaarsaning Pangeran ugi, ika minangka sapatemonira lan Pangeran. (Cod. Or. 1928: 33–34)

So, a man said: My Master, what is the behavior of the excellent man (wong lĕwih)? Seh Bari answered: Men! If you do not know it, the behavior of the excellent man is such that his vision is never amiss. All that he experiences and sees and all his individual actions, his silence, distress and sorrow, all these are not his own; he is like a walking corpse, which only walks by the permission and the will of the Lord. This is his unison with the Lord.

We can find another description of this wong lĕwih:

mapan ananira iki ingupamakakĕn, kadi angganing wawayangan, kewala si dening kinarsakĕn, enggening anunggal paningalira, ingkang angilo pribadi, kang aningali tiningalan, kang asih sinihan tan lyan piambĕkira, kewala si panduluning kawula iki, pinangka cihna panduluning kang asih, asih sinihan ing dhewekira, dadi nir panduluning kang sinihan, kawibuhan dening sihira kang sadya aningali, kewala si panduluning kawula iki darma amalĕsi. (Cod. Or. 1928: 34–35)

Because your existence is like a form of shadow, only by the intention of God, the oneness of yourself reflecting vision that sees and is seen, who loves and is loved by none other than Himself (yourself). Only the servant’s vision is proof of the sight of the one who loves, loves the one who is loved by Himself, so there is no vision of the loved. Coupled with God’s ever-seeing love, this servant’s sight is nothing but a form of reflection.

Seh Bari describes the wong lĕwih as “a walking corpse” (bathang lumampah), but he has no intention to ridicule the person, as he uses the word lĕwih (excellent). Wong lĕwih connects with the Creator, but his being is possible only by Divine Ordinance.

In conclusion, Master Seh Bari rejects the argument of wahdat al-wujud, which explains the manifestation of the world, because he is dedicated to asserting the transcendence of God. He also holds that the existence of a perfect man united with God is due to God’s great will.

6 Ethical Sufism

As mentioned at the beginning of this text, the purpose of the author is to impart instruction to his friends on the meaning of the principles of suluk. Drewes translated suluk as “mysticism.” If we understand suluk as “spiritual path to God,” the author has to explain what that way is. The only reference is in the following passage.

E Rijal mitraningsun kabeh, den-sami amiarsaa ing tuturingsun iki; kalayan sapisan ingsun lumampah ing ara-ara iman, sun-tingali tindakingsun ika; sarta lan idining sih nugrahaning Pangeran, sasampun ingsun lumampah ing ara-ara iman, tumindak ingsun ing ara-ara tohid, ya ta sun-tingali tindakingsun ika tan katon, kang katingalan deningsun ika kaananing Allah, kewala; sasampun ingsun lumampah ing ara-ara tohid, lumampah ingsun ing ara-ara maʿrifa, norana kaananingsun, tingalingsung kang maring Pangeran pon nora ana, tĕgĕse iku dening sampun anunggal tingal, dadi nir tingalingsun ika, ing tingal tunggal, kang tiningalan kang sadya andulu dinulu ing pandulunira. (Cod. Or. 1928: 74–75)

Men! All my friends! Listen to my words. As I entered the field of faith (iman), by nature of God’s mercy and grace I could see my own doings. After I entered the field of faith, I proceeded to the field of tawḥīd (tohid),¹⁷ then I did not see my own doings, what I saw was only the existence of God. After I entered the field of tohid, I proceeded to the field of intuitive knowledge (maʿrifa). There my existence did not exist, I also did not see God, that means that because the vision had merged, my own sight vanished into the one and only sight, and what was seen was He who is the eternal subject and object of His own sight.

Seh Bari explains the successive steps such as imān, tawḥīd, and maʿrifa. Several times in other parts of the text he describes the differences among these three levels by deliberately using various expressions, even though he only instructs on the progress to the goal and does not explain the methods. The third level, maʿrifa, is commonly translated as “knowledge or cognition,”¹⁸ but its meaning is not discussed here. Instead, this process of development is explained in close connection with the understanding of God’s transcendence. This text can be said to lead to the entrance to, but not cross the threshold into, the field of mysticism.

In the latter part of the text, Seh Bari stresses the ethical teachings and basic obligations of a Muslim, that is, five ritual prayers (salat limang waktu) and charity (sidekah) (Drewes 1969: 90–93). Pupils are taught to concentrate on God and keep away from worldly pleasures and extravagances of food, dress and sleep.

Mangka akĕcap Shekhul Bari, kang sinampurnakakĕn iman tohide maʾrifate, dening Allah taʾala, e mintraningsun, den-sami awas sira ing Pangeranira, den-sami angestokĕna kalawan sira anglaranana sarira, tĕgĕsing anglarani sarira iku, aja sira suka-suka awakira, kalawan ta aja mamaesi pangan panganggenira, turunira ing dunya, atinira aja madhĕp ing lyan, balikan sira asukan-sukana, akalangĕna lan Pangeran. (Cod. Or. 1928: 41–42)

Meanwhile, Seh Bari whose faith, tawḥīd, and maʿrifa are perfected by God said: “My friends, you should be alert to God, obey His commandments and hurt your body, which means that you should not indulge in worldly pleasures nor in extravagances of food, dress and sleep. Turn your hearts to God alone and seek your pleasures and delight with Him.”

In the end, Seh Bari admonishes his pupil for a lack of sincerity and teaches that outward piety, ascetic life, great learning, or even a high position, is of no value if one lacks sincerity of heart.

E mitraningsun ora sun-kalĕwihakĕn ing wong atapa kang kaliwat sangĕte kasutapane, dereng ta ikĕlas atine. ……

E mitraningsun ora sun-kalĕwihakĕn wong kang andrĕbeni kapandhitan, na, lan kawruh kang abĕnĕr, dereng ta ikĕlas atine. ……

E Rijal, mitraningsun ora sun-kalĕwihakĕn wong kang andrĕbeni bangsa kang kaliwat¹⁹ luhure, ingkang andrĕbeni kagungan kang kaliwat gunge, dereng ta ikĕlas atine. (Cod. Or. 1928: 75–78)

My friend! I have no respect for ascetics, who are given to severe austerities but lack sincerity of heart.

My friend! I have no respect for people who possess learning and great knowledge but lack sincerity of heart.

My friend! I have no respect for high-born people who are held in the highest esteem but lack sincerity of heart. (Drewes 1969: 97–99)

7 Theoretical Controversies of Sufism in Aceh

In Southeast Asia, the Sufi doctrine of Ibn al-ʿArabī was famously embraced by Hamzah Fansuri, the sixteenth-century Sumatran Sufi poet,²⁰ and the first writer known to articulate mystical pantheistic ideas in the Malay language. He was a prolific writer who composed many poems (syair) praising Ibn al-ʿArabī’s philosophy. His works enjoyed popularity, especially in the Aceh royal palace, in the early seventeenth century, the heyday of the Aceh Darussalam kingdom ruled by Sultan Iskandar Muda (r. 1607–36). However, this popular poet was severely criticized as heretical and his books were burned by Nūr al-Dīn al-Ranirī, an Islamic scholar from Gujarat, India, who served the sultans of Aceh (1637–44) as jurisconsult and later as shaykh al-Islām (the highest-ranking religious office). Al-Ranirī was a partisan of the anti-wujūdiyya movement which denied the doctrine of wahdat al-wujud (Al-Attas 1962: 36) and criticized Hamzah’s belief as pantheistic in the sense that he believed God’s essence is completely immanent in the world and that God permeates everything that is seen (Al-Attas 1970: 31). This anti-wujūdiyya movement flourished in the middle of the seventeenth century in India. It was influenced by the Naqshbandiyya,²¹ under the reign of the Mughal emperor Shāh Jahān (r. 1628–57), but the Wujūdiyya succeeded in gaining popularity again in the latter half of the seventeenth century. Therefore, “Raniri’s action was a reflex of the internal discord among the Indian Muslim themselves on the subject of the compatibility of the doctrine of Ibn al-ʾArabī with orthodox Islam” (Drewes 1986: 16).

This seventeenth-century religious debate on wahdat al-wujud in Aceh is very famous in the history of Indonesia. Curiously enough, The Admonitions of Seh Bari indicates that the controversies concerning wahdat al-wujud already existed in Java in the sixteenth century at the latest, when Hamzah Fansuri was active in Sumatra and the influence of the Wujūdiyya doctrine was enormous, especially during the rule of Akbar the Great (1542–1605) in the Mughal Empire. How should we evaluate the Indian influence? Did the author only translate the foreign polemics of Sufi mysticism into the Javanese language, or did he resist the new ideas from abroad and was it his intention to protect his own philosophy? It should be noted that we can already find theoretical discussions of Sufism in sixteenth-century Javanese texts, even though Java experienced Islamization in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, much later than Aceh, where the first Islamic kingdom was established in the late thirteenth century.

The text originates from the north coast area (pasisir) of Java, where many emerging Islamic port-polities flourished at that time. The author could have been of foreign origin, as Ricklefs argues that on the north coast the Javanization of foreign Muslims and the Islamization of Javanese was underway (Ricklefs 2006: 15–29). We do indeed find some vocabulary from the Malay language, but the author describes the structure of the universe using various Javanese expressions, including in Old Javanese. He did not merely translate items of Arabic origin, because he uses examples of daily commodities used in Javanese society, such as tumbak (spear), dhuhung (keris/ceremonial dagger), tatah (chisel), wadung (hatchet), panyukur (blade for shaving), usu (a bow-shaped tool for cleaning cotton), cacathut (pincers) and ĕdom kadut (sacking needle). He is harshly critical of Ibn al-ʿArabī’s philosophy, but the rich description shows a deep understanding of it.

His expression of the Essence of the God as liwung also makes us imagine a pantheistic philosophical leaning. In any case, this literature provides us with an opportunity to reconsider Javanese religion in the sixteenth century. It is often thought that advanced Islamic knowledge was not brought to Java until after it arrived on Sumatra and in the Malay Peninsula, but the flow of knowledge may have been faster, or taken a different direction than what has been assumed.

Furthermore, this text of Sunan Bonang repeatedly emphasizes the transcendence of God and strongly criticizes the doctrine of wahdat al-wujud. Regarding union with God, only the three stages for approaching God are indicated, but the methods are not explained in the text. The last part of the text is characterized by the teaching of ethical Sufism which teaches the fulfillment of the basic obligations of Islam, which are only to be performed during the first stage. Perhaps that is what the author means by suluk in the first place. According to Seh Bari, after all, the final stage can never be achieved by human will. Considering the three axes of Sufism described by Tonaga (2005), namely mysticism, ethics, and popular veneration, the content preached by this text can be classified in the category that gives prominence to the ethical aspect.

In addition, given the significance of the text’s claim of attribution to the “legitimate” wali, Sunan Bonang, who gave religious authority to Javanese kings and punished heretical walis, it is quite possible to assume that this type of ethical Sufism may have been a leading faction at the time, or was considered important.

8 The Meaning of Heresy

As we have seen, the admonitions as to what kinds of understandings make one an infidel are regularly repeated in the text. The names of “wrong” persons or teachings are repeated in order to mark the contrast with the right ones. The same holds for another surviving sixteenth-century Javan manuscript, also published by Drewes in 1954, under the title Een Javaanse Primbon uit de Zestiende Eeuw (“A Javanese Primbon from the Sixteenth Century”).²² This text focuses on what true believers and Sufis should do, while its teachings are more basic and more of a moral nature. However, here also the differences between Muslim and infidel/hypocrite (munafik) are emphasized repeatedly.

The author of “The Admonitions of Seh Bari” makes an effort to analyze God’s transcendence precisely because he is aware of the existence of “heretical” teachings. The subtleties offered help us to imagine how difficult this discussion must have been for religious intellectuals in the sixteenth century. It is plausible that the same debate created the literature that has as its theme the heresy of people like the wali Siti Jenar, who proclaimed himself one with God. On the other hand, we can find the following sentences in the Suluk Malang-sumirang, a text which was allegedly written by the “heretical” Sunan Panggung who was burnt at the stake, on the orders of the King of Demak.

Dosa’gung alit tan dèn singgahi, ujar kupur kapir kang dèn ambah, wus liwung pasikĕpane, tan andulu-dinulu, tan angrasa tan angrasani, wus tan ana pinaran, pan jatining suwung, ing suwunge iku ana, ing anane iku surasa sajati, wus tan ana rinasan.²³ (Poerbatjaraka 1952: 100)

If you avoid neither big nor small crimes, and if you follow the words of infidels, it shows your empty body.²⁴ You do not see and are not seen, do not feel and do not understand. You are without direction because the essence is empty and in the emptiness is the existence. In the existence there are the real meanings. Already there is nothing to be felt.

Pangrunguningsun duk rare cili, nora Sĕlam dening asĕmbahyang tan Sĕlam dening pangangge, tan Sĕlam dening saum, nora Sĕlam dening nastiti, tan Sĕlam dening tapa, nora dening laku, tan Sĕlam dening aksara nora Sĕlam yèn anut aksara iki, tininggal nora ĕsah.

Sĕlame ika kadi punĕndi, kang ingaranan Sĕlam punika, dening punapa Sĕlame, pan ing wong kapir iku, nora dening amangan bawi, yadyan asĕmbahyanga, yèn durung awĕruh, ing sajatine wong Sĕlam, midĕra anglikasan amontang-manting, jatine kapir kawak. (Poerbatjaraka 1952: 101)

I often heard when I was a child, that one is not a Muslim because of prayer or because of clothing, fasting, thriftiness, austerities, behavior, this script or that script, but that not adhering to these things was illegal.

What is Islam like? How does something called Islam become Islam? Eating pork does not make one an unbeliever. If you pray without knowing the truth of being Muslim, even if you go around like a spinning spool, actually you will be always an outdated infidel.

This plea that one must follow each teaching of Islam, but even if one follows them, if it is only in form and if one does not understand the true meaning, one will remain an infidel in the end, shows the dilemma of Javanese Muslims who continue to search for true answers.

Although Pigeaud explains that in the Pasisir literature “the mystic and the legalistic orthodox currents existed side by side” (Pigeaud 1967, 1: 78–81), the sixteenth-century text discussed in this chapter shows that the various controversies surrounding Sufism had already entered Java (at least among the Islamic scholars), where Islam had only begun to spread its influence, while the author, who claims to be “orthodox” in the name of Ghazālī and Sunan Bonang, insisted on the transcendence of God and emphasized ethics. The harshness of the criticisms against the wahdat al-wujud philosophy makes us imagine that there were certainly people who supported the philosophy.

In this chapter, in response to the frequently used historical explanation that the influx of Sufism facilitated the Islamization of Java, I have attempted to clarify the nature of Sufism in Java in the sixteenth century through an analysis of manuscripts from the same period. I believe that it is possible to trace the history of Javanese Sufism by examining the religious discussions of the walis in manuscripts from the seventeenth century onward and comparing them with those of the sixteenthth century, although the number of manuscripts copied in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries is small, and the acquisition or date of writing is uncertain. Comparisons with religious debates that developed in South Asia during the same period will also be important to understand the background of the discussions in Java.

It is difficult to understand the history of Islam’s spread in Java during the period of Islamic influx in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. However, by rereading the manuscripts from the perspective of historical changes and interregional comparisons, it will become possible to use the manuscripts for the purpose of writing the history of Islam.