Stories from Deli

(From the Nieuwe Bat. II. B.)

Makassaarsch handels-blad 08-11-1872

Dear Editor,

You have requested from me an explanation of the state of the country before the uprising and a suggestion of the means to bring this important settlement to peace. I will attempt to fulfill this to the best of my ability.

Eight or nine years ago, the first European, a Dutchman named Mr. Nienhuis, settled in the territory of the Sultan of Deli. He acquired uncultivated land from the Sultan under lease; this land is excellently suited for tobacco cultivation. Currently, there are about 40 European settlers in these regions, excluding their wives and children, who are engaged in the cultivation of tobacco, nutmeg, and coconuts. This year, tobacco fetched an average price of ƒ1.70 to ƒ1.75 per half kilogram on the European market. The export of this product is now expected to amount to 8,000 to 9,000 piculs.

In 1858, the relationship between the Sultan and the Dutch Government was further regulated by treaty. A controller was stationed there, who holds a position similar to that of the British residents with native rulers or, if you will, our residents in the Vorstenlanden on Java. The Sultan’s territory was relatively small. It extended just above Medan Poetri. He now effectively rules the land with the djaksa, a Malay, who was formerly a captain on a native vessel and who married a member of the Sultan’s family. This djaksa is an ordinary Malay, who is well-versed in flattery and deceit, but who has managed to gain enormous influence and has the Sultan’s ear completely.

There is indeed a sort of council (karapattan), of which the grandees of the realm and various chiefs are members; but the daily management of political affairs actually rests with the trio: the Sultan, the djaksa, and the controller, as the latter has a consultative voice in all important matters.

The controller, Baron de Raet, was a capable and energetic official. He knew how to handle Malays and Bataks well. He was feared as the representative of the Company. The controller, Mr. de Haan, who penetrated into the Batak lands, succeeded him; but he was somewhat sluggish, and under his administration, the seeds of unrest began to develop.

The Sultan increasingly leased out uncultivated land. His own territory soon became insufficient to meet the demands. At the same time, he used the prestige of his alliance with the Dutch Government to enlarge his power and increase his income. Gradually, he encroached on the territory of the neighboring Batak chiefs. Around the core of Deli were the Ampat Soekoes, including Soengal, each with a Dato at its head. They were in a special relationship with the Sultan. These Loesson Bataks, settled at the foot of the mountains, were once entirely independent. But when the Sultan saw the revenue he could draw from import duties, opium leases, and leasing of uncultivated land, he tried to turn the Dato’s into his vassals. Supported by the prestige of the Company, he succeeded, although the Dato’s were greatly feared for their warlike abilities and their connections with their relatives in the mountains.

One of the most influential men in that area was Dato Ketjil, the uncle and former guardian of the Dato of Soengal, now a young man of little significance, whom the controller Deerens treated very cautiously before the outbreak of hostilities. Dato Dalil, the other leader in the struggle, was also one of the chiefs who previously, in Loesson, demanded tributes from passing traders, imposed tolls, and occasionally engaged in river piracy. To combat this last activity above all, our controllers supported the Sultan’s efforts.

The ruler of Deli and the djaksa gradually began to dispose of the uncultivated lands of the Dato’s step by step, without granting them their rightful share of the profits. This went so far that the residence of Dato Ketjil was soon surrounded by private lands that had been ceded, extending even to Timang Langkat, although that area is governed by its own ruler. Initially, very few people were concerned about the cession of the extensive uncultivated lands. There was not much protest, although people expressed dissatisfaction. Later, protests were made repeatedly in vain. As the Dato’s saw their incomes dwindle and their former arbitrary levies curtailed, discontent grew, eventually leading to an outbreak.

At first, people feared the power of the Company too much to dare to rebel. But when some arbitrary actions were taken and punishment did not follow promptly, the Dato’s gained courage, and the conflict broke out. The Dato’s were summoned to Laboean in vain; summonses to appear before the karapattan and the controller had no effect. When they saw no strong arm approaching to enforce the summonses and the time passed, even threats that the Company would make them feel its power were met with scorn. The Dato’s began to prepare for war. However, the fear of the Company was still strong enough to make them hesitate, even though the Dato’s were gradually emboldened by impunity in their resistance.

Finally, Dato Dalil seized a prahu belonging to Messrs. Peyer and Schlotter, loaded with rattan. Dato Ketjil, for his part, illegally imprisoned the Chinese opium leaseholder of kampong Soengal. Messrs. Peyer and Schlotter, old colonists who had been on good terms with the Dato’s and whose lands bordered Timang Langkat, went to them to settle the matter. But they refused to return the seized goods or to offer any compensation for the unlawful act.

Thus began the conflict. Undeniably, the Sultan had encroached on the rights of the Ampat Soekoes and arrogated rights he did not possess. The political authority on our side supported him in this. The agreements between the land tenants and the Sultan were even ratified by the Resident of Riau, who followed the reports of the Assistant Resident of Siak, to whom the controller of Laboean-Deli is subordinate. Apparently, the European officials supported injustice because they did not understand the situation well enough.

The Assistant Resident of Siak is at a distance and operates under entirely different circumstances. Had a settlement been arranged promptly through wise action at the first signs of resistance, it would have saved us much blood and treasure. There were two options: either to help the Sultan in everything or to do justice. If the first course had been chosen, the representative of Dutch authority should not have issued idle summonses unless he could act promptly and forcefully, but should have immediately taken control of the Dato’s once some troops had arrived in Deli. That would have been entirely possible. A coup de main would have decided everything. The Resident of Riau evidently viewed the situation in this way, and he correctly assessed the situation, at least in that respect. Therefore, our side should have refrained from involvement until our officials had some power at their disposal that would have effectively crushed any further resistance.

However, only after the Dato’s had completely ignored the controller’s demands did they attempt to act with force. That was the first mistake. In Eastern countries, it is still very true that might makes right. But as soon as the natives perceive that orders from above are not backed by sufficient force, the prestige, however powerful it may have been in suppressing legitimate discontent, disappears, and the opposition gradually becomes emboldened. And grievances existed.

The most just course would have been to go immediately to the Dato’s and bring about a settlement between the Sultan of Deli and the Ampat Soekoes, even if it meant compelling the parties to do so. The conflict could have been avoided by buying off the rights of the Soekoes and granting the Dato’s a pension. The Dato’s, who once stood nearly on equal footing with the ruler of Deli, perhaps even in better conditions due to their connections with the mountain Bataks, were now on an almost equal footing, but were subsequently unable to impose levies, which were then made impossible for them.

It is also undeniable that the Sultan leased lands that were not his property. There was a lack of knowledge of the situation and a lack of policy, and now we are experiencing the consequences of that.

When the first expedition, under the command of Captain Koops, arrived here, the war was still entirely national, if I may call it that. Despite the incitement by the two Dato’s, their following, ready to accept the challenge, was still extremely small. The Malays of Deli could not be mobilized. The Bataks of Deli were partially attached to the planters. The Soengal-Bataks only disappeared from the plantations much later, and they seem to have responded to a call. But among the 5,000 to 6,000 workers of the planters, there are still many Bataks. The planters work mainly with Chinese laborers. However, they have also employed some Bataks, who do not engage in actual cultivation but mainly in forest clearing. The Malays of Deli are too lazy to do anything. The Bataks come annually from Loesson, the foothills, to seek work with the planters; they are perfect workers who deserve all trust. The actual mountain Bataks rarely come down.

The preservation of the plantations is due to the firm stance of the workers, who declared themselves ready to repel any attack, a sufficient proof that the relationship between the planters and their people can be considered excellent.

When Captain Koops had to take action, he found himself in an anything but easy position. The land was completely unknown to the authorities. There were no maps to speak of. Where the roads led, what resources were available, or what the enemy was capable of, all this was a mystery. No reliable information could be obtained from the Sultan or the djaksa. The Assistant Resident of Siak, Controller Deerens, and Captain Koops still rightly believed that if they acted quickly, everything would be won. Mr. Reyer offered to lead the troops to Timang Langkat. They decided to advance with three divisions, encircle and trap the Dato’s. However, the expedition did not achieve its goal.

On the side of Deli, a column of Malays, under the command of the djaksa, was supposed to advance. They accomplished nothing, and hence the entire plan fell apart. Upon encountering a small fortification, the djaksa requested permission to advance; this was denied, whereupon he remained idle for a few days; but when the fortification was abandoned, the djaksa entered and triumphantly captured an old woman who was still there. Our troops could not reach the Dato’s; they escaped. But according to rumors, the panic was so great that at one point the Dato’s had only 8 men around them.

Our troops, however, burned Timang Langkat and Bandjoe Betoel. Then negotiations began, and they allowed themselves to be badly misled. Bataks came down, claiming to be envoys of the panghoeloes. As proof of their good intentions, they brought the usual tribute, a white hen. In vain did Mr. Reyer warn the civil authorities that initiating negotiations would lead to nothing because these people were not sent by the mountain Bataks but were spies of the Dato’s, who came to buy time for their masters to gather new followers. He urged that they continue to advance immediately; then they would receive help; the attitude of one of the most influential panghoeloes was still wavering; but if they advanced, he would certainly join us and help us to capture the Dato’s. These warnings were not heeded. Messrs. Locker de Bruijn and Deerens listened to the information from the Sultan, or rather from the djaksa, even though the latter took everything he was told at face value, investigated nothing further, and blindly trusted his spies. The result was that when they advanced 9 days later, our troops had to retreat. Once again, it was evident that the Sultan and the djaksa had no knowledge of the land.

Mr. Reyer then once again offered to lead the troops to the commanding officer, Hombracht. He would lead them wherever desired and locate the Dato’s, provided he was entrusted with the leadership of the operations and no longer relied on information from the Sultan. Whether the then-chief of the expedition could not or dared not accept such an offer, the result was that they again began negotiating the surrender of the Dato’s, then advanced again, and our troops, after displaying the utmost perseverance, once more encountered defeat.

What should be done now, and what results can be expected from the strong action of Major van Stuwe? A word first about the state of the country, as reported by various accounts.

From Deli, one reaches a mountain range, behind which (I have not personally ventured there) a wide valley stretches, bordered again by mountains, the actual territory of the mountain Bataks. There is an extensive plateau, on which the important Toba Lake is located. This plateau is said to be very prosperous; there is significant industry; a large population can be found there, with magnificent rice fields, a colossal livestock population, and horse breeding; indigo is grown there, and there are weaving and dyeing industries. According to some estimates, this plateau reaches a height of 3,200 feet. Around the lake, the population is densest, and one might also encounter a few tribes of cannibals. A large marketplace, which is constantly busy, is also located on the plateau. It is said that roads extend in four different directions from Lake Toba. One of these roads is said to lead to Singkel. The Bataks have so far brought their goods there along this route. However, when I speak of roads, I mean simple footpaths, along which one cannot travel on horseback. The Bataks travel on foot and lead their horses along the narrow paths, climbing over rocks and along terrifying ravines. Another road leads from this plateau to Aceh, a third to the southern coast, and one with several branches to Soengal, Pertjoet, Langkat, and Deli. The distance from Deli to Lake Toba is said to be 3 to 4 days’ march. The various roads would all converge on the large marketplace on the plateau, where primarily significant horse trading takes place. (To be continued.)