Ayodhya Across the Eastern Sea

Imagine a man and a woman from India’s educated, progressive slice of society. Malini Saran, with a post-grad degree in art history, sp...

Imagine a man and a woman from India’s educated, progressive slice of society. Malini Saran, with a post-grad degree in art history, spends more than a decade in Southeast Asia, of which five are in Indonesia. Vinod C. Khanna, educated in Mumbai and Oxford, is an IFS officer. He puts in three years in the ’80s as India’s ambassador to Indonesia and writes a book, between whiles, on the future of Sino-Indian relations.

They discover a shared fascination with the Indonesian Ramayana tradition and decide to work together on a book. Their spouses and families pitch in gladly. A simpatico publisher from their circle of Delhi contemporaries is found. More than ten years pass. The authors are rarely in the same country. They have to locate source material at long distance on how this Hindu tradition works in the world’s largest Muslim population. Delhi scholars are generous with help and resources: Professor Lokesh Chandra, Romila Thapar, Krishna Deva, Devangana Desai, Himanshu Prabha Ray, Kapila Vatsyayan, Professor Azhar (the authority on Persian Ramayanas), K.V. Soundara Rajan, C.D. Paliwal. Australian and Dutch scholars, Indonesian and Malaysian experts, Tamil expats in Kuala Lumpur: a host of people find the time and inclination to share learning. Saran’s husband, Ajit, who took many of the pictures, passes away. Finally, after four drafts revised by Ravi Dayal, the book appears in print, with nine chapters, three appendices and the necessary glossary, index and biblio.

In their preface, the authors say: ‘‘To get a true idea of what the Ramayana has meant to the people of Indonesia over the last thousand years or so, we feel it necessary to take an integrated look at all that the cultural spheres which the Ramayana has touched — literature, the plastic and performing arts, political and moral philosophy. When we could not find any single study with such a comprehensive view of the subject, we decided to attempt it ourselves.’’

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Accordingly, the first two chapters lay out the historical journey of the Ramayana to Indonesia, starting with its multiple forms in its land of birth and the creative processes through which the Mahabharata and the Ramayana travelled across the eastern seas nearly two millennia ago. Chapter Three zeros in on the earliest known depiction of the Ramayana in the islands of Indonesia and its transformation into stone in the beautiful friezes of Shiva and Brahma temples of the great Lara Jonggrang palace in Peramban in Central Java, circa the ninth century (this is one of the meatiest chapters and fascinating to read). Around the same time that the Ramayana is being etched in stone, a literary form of it takes shape right there in Central Java, in Old Javanese: the Ramayana kakawin (kathayan). It is a masterpiece in its own right and the authors examine the views on its relationship to its source, the Sanskrit poem ‘‘Bhattikavyam’’.

Chapter Five shows how the Ramayana grows and adjusts in Javanese flavour as political power shifts from Central to East Java in the tenth century. In the 15th century as the Majapahit (Hindu-Budhhist empire) declines and Islam sweeps the archipelago, interesting new chapters are written in the Javanese Ramayana — the focus of Chapter Six.

In the ’90s epic symbols were used during the overthrow of Suharto. He in turn sponsored allegorical plays in which Ram rescues Sita

The social beliefs underpinning the epics as performing arts in Java and Bali are examined in Chapter Seven (respect for the mother is a big cultural pillar). Epic symbols are cleverly used in contemporary politics, during the overthrow of President Suharto. The pop song ‘‘Anoman Obong’’ becomes a hit in 1996. It tells of how Anoman (Hanuman) during his visit to ‘‘Alengka’’ in search of ‘‘Sinta’’ is captured by ‘‘Rawana’s’’ forces and his tail set alight, by which he sets Alengka ablaze. In turn, Suharto sponsors plays in 1998 like ‘‘Rama Tambak’’ in which Rama builds a bridge to rescue Sita. This is allegory for Suharto (Ram) saving Indonesia (Sia) from the Asian economic crisis.

The last chapter sums up the enduring importance of the epic in the inner lives of Indonesians and how Islam, in this case, has not killed off older local culture. Indeed, the ‘‘Hikayat Seri Rama’’ has a happy ending for Valmiki’s doomed couple.

The authors tell their tale in a gentle, factual way, devoid of Indian chest-thumping. Throughout, it is impossible not to feel deeply moved by the many felicitous links between people and cultures, then and now: vasudaiva kutumbakam.