(9789004170261 - A History of Christianity in Indonesia) Chapter Thirteen. The Sharp Contrasts of Sumatra
(9789004170261 - A History of Christianity in Indonesia) Chapter Thirteen. The Sharp Contrasts of Sumatra
The cultural, economic and religious pattern of Sumatra was, around 1800,
much more diverse than that of any of the other greater islands such as Java,
Kalimantan, Sulawesi or Papua. This diversity was not only evident among
the inhabitants of the inland regions, the population of the mountain chain
of the Bukit Barisan that runs along the western coast from Aceh to the
south, the home of the inland tribes of Batak, Gayo-Alas, Minangkabau,
Kubu (Jambi) and Lampung. There were also, and still are, great differences
in the coastal regions: the Malay Sultanates of the East Coast, Java-oriented
Palembang, the proud and independently distinct identity of Aceh, equally
distinct Minangkabau, just to mention some of the major cultures. Besides,
there were quite significant differences in culture in the numerous smaller
islands surrounding Sumatra. Since the 1860s large numbers of migrants had
arrived from China in the islands of Bangka, Belitung and Riau. Many more
Chinese, and later many poor coolies from Java, came to the new plantation
area of Medan. These migrant workers dominated the tin mining, rubber,
tobacco and pepper plantations, and much of the non-agricultural smallholder
economy. The islands of Nias, Batu, Mentawai and Enggano preserved differ-
ent cultures again. Many of the Sumatran coastal cultures had been Muslim
for several centuries. The most assertive of these were the Acehnese, as well
as the smaller coastal settlements like Bengkulu and, on the Eastern coast,
the sultanates of Deli (Medan), Serdang, Langkat and Siak. There were also
strong inland Muslim traditional societies in the mountainous regions of
Minangkabau, Gayo-Alas, Palembang and Lampung.
Confronted with all this diversity it will be necessary to concentrate on two
major regions of mission and church development, those of the Toba-Batak
and Karo homelands in what is now North Sumatra, and more specifically on
two churches, HKBP and GBKP. Different in many ways, the developments in
these two regions and churches yield insights into the processes of religious
change in Sumatra without overshadowing the very important developments
in other regions and churches.
The Batak homeland, (today the larger part of the Indonesian province of
North Sumatra) lies between Aceh in the north and the provinces of West
years after the Treaty, and then unevenly. The final occupation of the Karo
plateau, for example, did not take place until 1904.
In this situation, missionaries in Tapanuli and planters on the east coast
of Sumatra entered areas that were completely independent of colonial rule
or significant European influence. Having established their enterprises they
continued, for some time after colonial penetration began, to overshadow the
colonial administration and its officials who often depended on their local
knowledge and their ability to speak local languages and to negotiate with
local leaders and rulers.
The Protestant mission among the Angkola, Toba and Simalungun Batak
peoples is widely, and appropriately, associated with the German Rhenish
Mission, which entered Batakland in 1861, and with the name of the great
missionary strategist Ludwig Ingwer Nommensen (1834–1918) who arrived
in Sumatra in 1862.1 However, the Rheinische Missionsgesellschaft (RMG) was
neither the first, nor the only, pioneering mission agency to enter the Batak
world during the nineteenth century, and Nommensen himself undertook his
pioneering work in North Tapanuli in company with others (among whom
P.H. Johannsen and August Mohri) and from a basis already established by
the Mission in the southern Bataklands.
The death in 1834 of two missionaries sponsored by the American Board of
Commissioners for Foreign Missions, Henry Lyman and Samuel Munson, on
their first entry to the inland Batak territory, is also well known, but over a
decade before this tragic event British Baptist missionaries had been active in
the region. This earlier activity was closely associated with the British presence
on the west coast of Sumatra and the personal interest the British Lieutenant-
Governor, Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles, had taken in the evangelisation of the
indigenous peoples of the Indonesian region.2 In 1824, the year in which he
finally left the east, Raffles had commissioned Richard Burton and Nathaniel
1
On the life of Nommensen, there is a note of the more accessible, modern European stud-
ies attached to Schreiner 1998:499–500. In what follows Jonathan T. Nommensen 1974 was
used, being an Indonesian translation by E.I.D. Nababan-Tobing, of the Toba Batak life, written
in Sumatra by Nommensen’s missionary son soon after his father’s death, and published in
1925. This work is written out of, and into, a Batak rather than a European or mission board
context. It is based on recollections and interviews and is largely free of the RMG image of
Nommensen and of the idealistic veneration that later grew around the first Ephorus of the
Batak church. Intent on telling the story of his father’s life the younger Nommensen provides
raw data, rather than an interpretation. In doing so, so closely after the events, he presents also
the unmistakable flavour of missionary life: piety, family tragedies, political manoeuvring with
respect both to Batak chiefs and the Dutch authorities. A second edition was published in two
parts in Pematangsiantar about 1963/4. It was not possible to use recent publications on L.I.
Nommensen, written by Martin E. Lehmann (1996) and Lorman M. Peterson (Nommensen’s
grandson-in-law who lives in San Diego USA), published in 2001.
2
Payne 1945:38–56 offers a comprehensive account.
3
Payne 1945:46–48.
4
Document H 302, KITLV, Leiden, edited by Schreiner as, “N.M. Ward’s Report on a Visit
to the Central Batak-Land in 1824,” pp. 59–65 in: Schreiner 1971:57–71, at pp. 60–61. The
Report, dated Padang 19 September 1846, is actually addressed to Major-General Michiels,
the Dutch Civil and Military Governor of the West Coast of Sumatra.
5
It was common to spell Batak as ‘Batta’ in the 19th century, the final ‘k’ being indistinct
in pronunciation. More confusing is the use of ‘Batak’, which unites several very distinct but
related peoples (the Toba, Karo, Simalungun, Pakpak and Angkola Bataks), with specific refer-
ence to the Toba Batak, or their culture, language or religion. This practice is so established
that it can no longer really be avoided.
6
Schreiner 1971:60.
7
A. Silitonga 1965:64–70 at p. 65.
8
Sahala is a Toba Batak concept similar to the Polynesian mana. Bishop Anicetus Sinaga
defines it as the “power of the soul and its authority which is seen as a living and effective
power in real manifestation,” Sinaga 1981:233, cf. Lumbantobing 1961:7–12.
9
Lempp 1976:110.
ways. Angkola and Mandailing have been predominantly Muslim since the
1830s, and the colonial government, seeking to pacify the region and disable
the Padri movement, quickly consolidated their own rule in these southern
Batak territories.
In the north many Batak communities were devastated. Although the Islamic
fighters were forced to withdraw, leaving the free Bataks bitterly opposed to
militant Islam, insecurity and fear were to be a continuing feature of Batak
society until the colonial power eventually established a substantial measure
of peace and order. Fighting in some areas had left communities unable to
bury their dead or to fulfil the requirements of their adat, a circumstance
to which some Bataks attributed later calamities that befell them. Unburied
bodies led to outbreaks of disease, culminating in an extensive outbreak of
fever and cholera.10
A modern Batak historian has described this invasion as an “impasse” that
disrupted every aspect of Toba Batak society,11 causing a serious breakdown
in social order, in patterns of belief and in the standing of the Singamangaraja
dynasty of ruler-priests whose head, the hitherto never-defeated Si Singa-
mangaraja X, had been killed in battle early in 1819.
This sense of perilous insecurity remained a constant in the Batak areas
unoccupied by the European colonial power and it is against this background
that we can begin to understand both the hostility of those who killed
S. Munson and H. Lyman in 1834 and the openness of some north Tapanuli
raja, thirty years later, to both the German mission and the Dutch colonial
administration.
Burton and Ward, as we have seen, were not able to complete their journey
as far as Bakara, the headquarters of Si Singamangaraja XI, and some Bataks
attributed the Padri assault and its horrific consequences to the failure of
the foreign visitors to observe the basic requirements of Batak adat. Totally
unprepared for their encounter with free Bataks, Munson and Lyman fell in
with a band who had determined to allow no other Europeans to enter their
territory and were killed.12
By the time Nommensen entered the free Batak territory of north Tapanuli
the social disruption following the Padri incursions had led to frequent
inter-village conflicts and a general breakdown of peace and security. In fact
Nommensen and his party, on their first night after crossing from the Dutch-
controlled area, shared a cave with fugitives from inter-village warfare, and the
10
Tarigan and Emilkam Tambunan 1974:35–37; J.T. Nommensen 1974:chap. ix.
11
Batara Sangti [Ompu Buntilan Simanjuntak] 1977:24–25.
12
This was the reason given to Nommensen by Raja Panggalamei, one of the leaders of the
band who killed the two missionaries. Cf. Nommensen 1974:62–63.
insecurity and distrust pervading the region remained a feature of the early
years of the mission in north Tapanuli.
The movement for the Christianisation of the Toba Bataks had commenced in
earnest in January 1857 with the settlement of the Dutch missionary G. van
Asselt in the Sipirok high country, in Angkola in the southern Batakland, by
this time already under effective Dutch rule.13 Here he was joined by three
fellow missionaries, Dammerboer, Van Dalen and Koster,14 all like himself,
sent out by an independent revivalist church in Ermelo, in the Netherlands.
Without financial backing the Ermelo missionaries supported themselves, in
G. van Asselt’s case by working as a coffee warehouse overseer in Angkola
and Sipirok.15 To this day, and notably at the time of the HKBP centennial in
1961, the Sipirok Protestants, a minority in the now overwhelmingly Muslim
southern Batak homelands, assert their place as the pioneer Batak Protestant
community. Recalling the pioneering mission activity in Sipirok in the 1850s
they celebrated their own counter-centennial celebrations.16
The first missionaries of the Rheinish Missionary Society (RMG) arrived in
North Sumatra in the aftermath of the 1859 Dayak rising in Dutch Borneo
(Kalimantan), when the mission withdrew after some of its staff were killed
and the colonial government prohibited further entry, or re-entry, to inland
areas.17 In the same year the RMG Inspector, Dr Friedrich Fabri,18 while visiting
the Netherlands, became aware of the publications of Dr Herman Neubronner
van der Tuuk who, from 1849, had undertaken a very productive survey of
Batak languages on behalf of the Netherlands Bible Society, operating from a
base in Barus.19 After discussion with Dutch mission leaders Fabri returned
to Barmen convinced that his mission should send workers to Batakland. His
13
Susan Rodgers Siregar 1981:chap. 1. describes modern Sipirok and Angkola.
14
Nommensen 1974:44. Lempp 1976:111 names Dammerboer [sic], Van Dalen and Betz.
Betz, also from the Ermelo Free Congregation, seems to have arrived separately.
15
Schreiner 1972:116, 141; Lempp 1976:110–111. ‘Christianisation’ (German Christianisierung,
Indonesian pengkristenan) has proved to be an unfortunate term in respect to inter-faith relation-
ships in modern Indonesia, heightening Muslim suspicion that Christians aim to overwhelm
the Muslim and other religious communities altogether.
16
Susan Rodgers Siregar 1981:41.
17
Fridolin Ukur 1971:90; cf. chapter twelve.
18
F. Fabri, 1824–1891, was Inspector of the RMG 1857–1884. Cf. Schreiner 1971:58–70, and
Hans-Werner Gensichen 1998:207.
19
Van der Tuuk was a colourful and eccentric scholar who entered well into Batak society
and was warmly accepted by the Bataks, who made a friendly pun on his name: ‘Pandortuk—Big
Nose.’ He may have been the first European to see Lake Toba.
board agreed and on 7 October 1861 three RMG missionaries, J.C. Klammer,
C.W.S. Heine and W.F. Betz joined Van Asselt for a discussion, in the home
of Bondanalolot Nasution in Parau Sorat, in Sipirok, where they established
the Batak Mission, assigning to themselves particular areas of responsibility.20
The missionaries Dammerboer and Van Dalen declined to serve under RMG
oversight and sought other employment, while Koster died in Pagarutan.21
The date of this meeting has since been recognised by HKBP as the date of
its foundation, with some Bataks later claiming to find a mystical significance
in the names of the four pioneers: Heine, Klammer, Betz and Van Asselt.
With v being pronounced as a p in Batak speech, the initials formed the now
familiar HKBP, Huria Kristen Batak Protestan, the Christian Protestant Batak
Church.
On 2 April 1861 Van Asselt had baptised the first Batak Christians, Jakobus
Tampubolon and Simon Siregar.22 Known locally as the ‘Rijnsche Zending’
the RMG appointed a number of missionaries to work in the south from the
1860s. Batak lay assistants were appointed and Bible schools were established
in some villages. From the time of the Padri war the southern Batakland has
been substantially Muslim with Christians forming a vibrant minority com-
munity that by modern times was stable at about 10% of the population of
Sipirok.23
Herman Neubronner van der Tuuk had concluded, from his researches
among the Toba Batak, that the mission organisations should withdraw their
personnel from the southern Batak regions of Angkola and Mandailing,
already substantially converted to Islam, and relocate them in those regions
as yet uninfluenced by outside religions. He considered the time available for
a successful mission to the free Bataks to be short, anticipating that with the
expanding Dutch colonial enterprise would come the Malay language, the
lingua franca of the archipelago, and in its wake Malay Muslim evangelists
from the coast.24
It was this vision that directed the attention of Ludwig Nommensen and
his contemporaries to the region of northern Tapanuli and the free Batak ter-
ritories as yet beyond the range of the Dutch colonial system, which at this
20
Nommensen 1974:35, 44 [which records Betz’ transfer to the ‘Barmen Mission’]. Schreiner
1971:65–66; Susan Rodgers Siregar 1981:44.
21
Lumbantobing 1961:25 n. 46; Susan Rodgers Siregar 1981:44; Nommensen 1974:44.
22
Lempp 1976:111. Pedersen 1970:49 suggests that an army chaplain may have earlier bap-
tised two Bataks returning from the Padri wars, but offers no names, time, place or evidence
in support.
23
Susan Rodgers Siregar 1981:2.
24
Cited in: Theodor Müller-Krüger 1966:210. In translating orang-orang Melaju in this cita-
tion as “people from Malaya,” Pedersen 1970:54 creates a misleading impression. Van der Tuuk
was not suggesting that Islamic missionaries might come from British Malaya.
time was limited in the north to the port towns of Sibolga and Barus. Work
continued energetically in Angkola and Mandailing, particularly in areas such
as Sipirok, Bunga Bondar, Sipiongot and Padang Bolak, under both RMG and
a Dutch mission usually referred to as the ‘Java Committee.’25
Adding ecumenical and international colour to the region was a small
Russian Mennonite community from the Ukraine, which settled in Pakantan,
in Mandailing, in 1838. In 1871 the Dutch Mennonite mission established a
station at Pakantan under Heinrich Dirks, followed later by two further sta-
tions, several subsidiary stations, two hospitals, an orphanage and schools.
These congregations joined themselves to the Batak Church, HKBP, in 1931,
along with congregations founded by the Java Committee,26 but the Mennonites
re-formed their own community in 1951.27
Müller-Krüger has observed that one important element in the extraordinary
success experienced by the RMG mission amongst the Toba Batak was its
organisation and cooperative strategies, and a strong backing from Germany
at least until 1914.28 From the meeting of the four missionaries in Sipirok in
1861 a plan was evolved and adhered to, and missionaries were located, and
relocated, to strategic areas as situations changed and opportunities developed.
Decisions were made on the field by consultation and consensus.
This feature must be kept in mind as the crucial contribution of Ludwig
Nommensen is considered. Of immense and increasing influence, he too was
part of a team and his work formed part of an overall strategy. Increasingly
his ability to understand the Batak and to relate to them on their own terms
opened new strategic opportunities. But of equally crucial importance to the
survival and then to the success of the mission in Silindung and Toba was the
early adherence and support of strategic Batak leaders, pre-eminent among
them the young Raja Pontas Lumbantobing.
Ludwig Ingwer Nommensen was born on 6 February 1834 on the Danish
North Sea island of Nordstrand that was later absorbed into Germany. His fam-
ily was very poor and as a child Nommensen had to work to support himself
and to help his family. He suffered ill health and it was in response to healing
from the effects of an accident that he committed himself to a life of mission-
ary evangelism. His religious education was Lutheran, outwardly conventional
although marked by the warm piety of the revivalist tradition. His son’s account
of Nommensen’s youth reveals an emphasis on individual profession of faith,
and the strong influence and support of his widowed mother.
25
The Java Committee was Dutch and Reformed, basing it’s teaching on the Heidelberg
Catechism. Its congregations united with HKBP in 1931 (Müller-Krüger 1966:212).
26
H.S. Bender et al. (eds.) 1955/1969, vol. 1:248 (sub Batta).
27
Müller-Krüger 1966:212, Lempp 1976:111, Pedersen 1970:56.
28
Müller-Krüger 1966:217.
29
Biographical details from Nommensen 1974:chapters 1–4. It is not possible in this con-
text to offer an adequate biographical study of Nommensen. For bibliography see Schreiner
1998:499–500. The theology of key teachers in the Seminary, and leaders of RMG, is discussed
in Schreiner 1972:33–70.
30
There is a fine study by Lothar Schreiner 1972:chapter II, where after a general introduc-
tion he discusses the specific theologies of mission leaders and teachers who shaped the RMG
missionaries’ tradition of faith. See also Jan S. Aritonang 1994:70–96 on the Seminary, the
Mission teachers and their theology.
31
Aritonang 1994:72–74, 76–77; Schreiner 1972:35; A. Lumbantobing 1961:47–51; Schreiner
1972:79–85.
32
Nommensen 1974: passim.
33
J. Sihombing 1961:19; Nommensen 1974:33.
34
Nommensen 1974:40.
35
Nommensen 1974:chapter 4; Aritonang 1994:111.
the free Bataks were now ready to consider the possibilities of a new religion,
which seemed willing to take their language, their social structures, and even
the major elements of their custom (adat) seriously. Missionary efforts in health
care, in education and in the ransoming and education of prisoners and slaves
demonstrated new social values that came gradually to be appreciated by the
democratic Batak communities and their leaders.
The village leaders (raja huta) who chose decisively to opt for this new way
determined the response of their communities to Christian preaching, and
became essential allies of the missionaries. Such a person was Raja Pontas
Lumbantobing, an intelligently pragmatic young leader from Pearaja who
saw alliance with the mission and acceptance of colonial rule as appropriate
responses to the social crisis of the free Batak communities.
Raja Pontas believed that the time of the Si Singamangaraja dynasty had
passed, along with the old Batak religion it steadfastly upheld, and he was
baptised by Nommensen 27 August, 1865.36 His authority, which was widely
respected as far as Lake Toba, in effect secured the Silindung valley for the
mission, and his ceaseless urgings to embrace literacy and the Christian faith
encouraged both conversion and education in the region. His own standing and
personal authority enabled Raja Pontas to travel freely wherever he chose, and
his name afforded right of passage and protection to the missionaries in their
travels.37 He died on 18 February 1900, described by Jonathan Nommensen
as the chief pillar of the Batak Church in Silindung.38
There were other strategic indigenous leaders,39 but there were also many
who, from the first arrival of the missionaries, rejected both them and their
teaching. Always alert to the outside world, many Batak leaders suspected
that Nommensen, in spite of his fine words, was a spy for the Gomponi, as
the whole colonial enterprise was long known in Batakland, and a forerunner
of colonial occupation of the free territories which, they feared, would bring
traumatic disruption to their traditional societies.40 The most dramatic Batak
opposition was mounted by the paramount leader, Si Singamangaraja XII.
Mission relationships with the colonial administration developed to the
mutual benefit of both parties, although there was competition in some areas
between government and mission schools. The colonial authorities reserved
36
Müller-Krüger 1968:256; Pedersen 1970:58–59.
37
Nommensen 1974:45, 90. Raja Pontas was given the name ‘Obaja’ (Obediah) at his baptism,
and is sometimes referred to by this name in missionary writings. It is a mark of his standing
as a traditional leader that his new name faded from sight in time.
38
Nommensen 1974:185.
39
Aritonang 1994:118 mentions several.
40
Nommensen1974:49, 51. Gomponi (Kompeni in Malay and Indonesian): the colonial
administration and its associated interests and activities were so termed until 1942—from the
Dutch East India Company—the Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie (VOC 1605–1799).
the right to permit or forbid missionary entry into even the free territories,
and to prevent mission competition. This latter restriction long delayed the
entry of Catholic missionaries into the Batak territories. Missionaries, for their
part, felt secure under Dutch protection, a not inconsiderable factor in the
wake of the RMG experience in Borneo.
Like most nineteenth century European missionaries the RMG workers saw
the civil mission of the colonial government as parallel and allied to the task of
Christian mission. Nommensen, as his son records, was quite ready to appeal
to Dutch colonial authority when his first intention to settle in Silindung was
challenged, although this region was still at that time free territory. With every
attempt to build a house and begin his work thwarted, Nommensen invited
local leaders, including the four raja recognised by Si Singamangaraja, and
confronted them with documents signed by the governor of Padang and by the
governor general of the Indies, permitting him to live in the region.41 Later, at
a time when Silindung was still free territory, the Dutch Governor of Padang,
P. Arriens, paid an extended visit to the mission, from December 1868 until
January 1869. Soon after, a district officer (controleur) was appointed and the
process of ‘pacification,’ as the colonial administration termed it, of the inland
Batak territories was commenced.42
Having achieved his goal of entry into the free territory Nommensen at first
attempted to establish his home, and base, in a settled village. Batak leaders
who had come to associate the visits of foreigners with outbreaks of disease
and other calamities opposed this. As the number of converts grew, to the point
where they could not longer be dismissed as village eccentrics, Christians were
expelled from their villages and Nommensen was forced to establish a Christian
village, Huta Dame, Village of Peace, with its own school and church.
41
Nommensen 1974:57–58. It appears that the Si Singamangaraja dynasty exercised a
moral authority in the wider Batak world that was much more extensive than that of a Raja
Huta, or village chief. The title singa or lion (an animal not found in Sumatra but represented
in Batak architecture) and mangaraja, maharaja or ‘great king’ is clearly Indian, probably
Hindu-Javanese, in origin. There is evidence that an earlier Si Singamangaraja had designated
four traditional leaders in each of the Batak societies to function as a tetrarchy. Even in his
own Toba Batak society this institution never became established, but the designated chiefs,
and their descendents, were remembered, and respected as representatives of the priest-king
dynasty. Nommensen names the four his father challenged by their personal, but not by their
clan (marga), names (p. 58).
42
The visit is described Nommensen 1974:98–100.
43
Recorded by his son, Nommensen 1974:49.
44
Nommensen 1974:77, 35.
45
Nommensen 1974:159.
46
Bishop Andar Lumbantobing, a modern Toba Batak theologian, dedicated the published
version of his doctoral dissertation 1961:3, “Dem Gedächtnis von Missionar P.H. Johannsen,
dem unübertrefflichen Übersetzer des Alten Testamentes in die Toba-Batak-Sprache.”
sionary publications, in the later histories, and finally in what became almost
the cult of the first ephorus or superintendent of the Batak Church.
In more recent times Lothar Schreiner, whose work greatly advanced our
understanding of both the theology and the history of the Batak Mission, has
clearly established the significance of the three-sided partnership between
Nommensen, Raja Pontas and Johannsen. This was to be a crucial factor in
the initial acceptance of the Christian Gospel in Silindung, and ultimately in
the dramatic success of the Batak Mission. Nommensen he sees as a man of
initiative and vision, “a spiritual personality with an unfailing vision, related
to the religious renewal.”47
Raja Pontas Lumbantobing may be characterised as a radical cultural nego-
tiator, who has suffered some eclipse in Batak history because of his ambiguous
role in welcoming the western influences intruding on traditional Batak society.
Open to both the mission and the coming of the colonial administration he
was able to influence other rajas to accept the new order. His was a political
role. As Schreiner notes, “His spiritual strength and insight into the mind
of his fellow men influenced the parbaringin organisation to give way to the
new faith. . . . His stand with the missionaries and the Christian congregations
helped the new faith to stay among the Batak.”48
Johannsen, for his part, provided the basis for teaching and preaching in
the local congregations. Schreiner sees him as a scholar and teacher concerned
with “the reconstruction of knowledge” in Batak society.49 Resting on a shared
insight, these three pioneers recognised clearly that historical continuity with
the social and cultural past was vital if Batak people were to be able to accept
a new faith, and with it a reconstructed world-view. The three-fold kinship
structure of Batak society (the dalihan na tolu), and the customary law (adat)
were to be safeguarded. Batak converts would become Batak Christians, living
in a society that would change with time but remain clearly and distinctively
Batak.
By 1876 there were about 2,000 Christians in the Silindung region and
the missionaries felt assured that the community would endure in the face
of strong reaction from the leaders of the old religion, and the opposition
of those who distrusted the motives of the mission and its close association
with what they still called the ‘Company’, the Dutch colonial administration
and its agencies. Characteristically, Nommensen’s reaction to this improved
situation was to move further north and engage in a new encounter, this time
with the people in the region around Lake Toba. He was careful to maintain
47
Schreiner 1987:179–187, at p. 185.
48
Schreiner 1987:184.
49
Schreiner 1987:185. Compare also Schreiner 1992:241–251, which includes a biblio-
graphy.
a formal relationship with Si Singamangaraja XI, and his successor, the most
prominent Batak leaders in the region, and the most prominent and enduring
stalwarts of the old ways.
Another feature of Nommensen’s strategic insight was the move made, from
the late 1870s, from emphasis on individual conversion to emphasis on the
conversion of family groups, or even whole communities, to the Christian
faith. Admission to church membership was always, and only, by means of
an individual profession of faith and baptism, but the missionaries had come
to realise that in Batak society the decision to accept instruction and then to
seek baptism was often a communal one. It was this move in strategy that
opened the way for the development of a genuine People’s Church (Volkskirche)
in Toba Batak society.
The mission theology in which Nommensen and his colleagues had been
trained lent itself to this rather pragmatic approach to Batak society. The view
of ‘salvation history’ taught by Friedrich Fabri and Georg Ludwig von Rohden
emphasised renewal as a paradigm for evangelism. New life in Christ could
penetrate and renew, rather than annihilate and destroy, the traditional world
of the Batak. Nommensen’s own method of evangelism emphasised instruction
by question and answer, a dialogue to determine what the seeker was looking
or hoping for, rather than a dogmatic proclamation of religious truths. Above
all, the early missionaries lived within Batak society, in solidarity with local
people and communities, both confronting the old religion and its practices
and demonstrating in their own lives that the new religion was a practical,
and promising, alternative for people seeking harmony and a renewal of their
social order.
Nommensen’s theology has been described as anthropocentric and this
enabled him to conceive of, and to present, a Christian life and ethos grow-
ing organically within the actual life of Batak communities.50 This theological
orientation enabled Nommensen not only to develop and present a doctrine
of human solidarity in Christ but also to accept as something quite natural
and proper his own human solidarity with Batak people, whose life ways he
respected and entered into as fully as he was able, for the rest of his life.
Nommensen’s ecclesiology has more complex roots, although again his open-
ness to human life and its potentialities is pivotal. He developed what Lothar
Schreiner has called a ‘contextual ecclesiology’, which took the adat—the Batak
customary law—and the social structures of Batak society seriously, unless they
were in clear contradiction to Christian faith and teaching. But his ecclesiology
is also rooted in the Lutheran Reformation, which identified the congregation
with the commune—the socio-political entity—rather than with the idea of a
50
Schreiner 2000:81–84, at p. 81.
distinct religious community.51 This Lutheran heritage, and the more modern
Folk-Church idea with its roots in the German Romantic Movement, facilitated
the development of the unique Huria Kristen Batak Protestan (HKBP). Huria,
a Batak word denoting community rather than church,52 catches well the sense
of identity between church and society. For this people’s church Nommensen
set apart appropriate lay leaders, the elders, more associated with a Calvinist
or Reformed church order but significantly appropriate to Batak society. The
kerygmatic paradigm employed by Nommensen in both evangelism and the
nurture of converts was the concept of ‘New Life’ that had been strongly
emphasised in the Barmen seminary.53
Put together these elements of theology, evangelism, missiology and eccle-
siology represent an astute and sensitively contextual response to the task of
introducing a new faith for consideration by a people whose confidence in
their own social order and system of belief remained intact, although under
severe stress. As the Christian community in Tapanuli moved beyond its initial
phase, 1864–1878, the small groups of baptised Christians began to take more
recognisable shape as local congregations. In this situation the mission leaders
began to seek out and train local leadership, to enlarge their outreach as well
as to educate members of existing congregations. Church elders, appointed
in congregations, worked closely with Christian rajas where the offices were
not actually held by the same person. Thus a German Lutheran model of the
relationship of ‘church and state’ came, quite naturally, to find an appropriate
incarnation in Batakland.
As suspicion of the missionaries’ association with the ‘Company’ diminished
villages began to ask for the appointment of a mission teacher and the open-
ing of a school. The desire for hamajuon, progress and advancement, always
to the fore in Batak motivation, and the added prestige a village would enjoy
in having a school and teacher, lay behind these requests.54
Initially these elementary schools doubled as preaching posts and places of
worship and were open to all children, in the hope that some might become
Christians. Later they were restricted to baptised children, not for religious
reasons but out of mission experience; the attendance of non-Christian pupils
was too erratic to be of any educational value. Later, schools were restricted
to larger villages, where there were fifty or more Christian families.55
51
A recent statement by Peter Matheson 2000:137 and passim.
52
Gereja in modern Indonesian, and most of the regional languages, derived from Portuguese
Igreja.
53
Schreiner 2000:81.
54
Aritonang 1994:118 and n. 21.
55
Aritonang 1994:124–125.
56
Aritonang 1994:89–92, 137–139.
57
Aritonang 1994:137–139 and n. 66.
58
Aritonang 1994:140 and n. 67, 68 which record the surprise of an RMG editor who added
emphasis (‘?!’) after reference to German—which had been taught at Parausorat also. Elementary
medicine was offered as an alternative to the traditional datu’s remedies. Nommensen translated
Luther’s Smaller Catechism in 1874.
59
Aritonang 1994:141, 146–148.
technical information and new vegetable and plant varieties for the develop-
ment of village agriculture.
Entering the Batak homeland at a time of social disorder the mission
strived to develop a Christian community, in which individual converts, and
later groups of new Christians, could find the new life that was central to the
missionary theology of Nommensen and his contemporaries. That it enabled
a whole society to make the transition into a wider and more complex world
without loosing the patterns and values of their own tradition and culture is
evident in the vitality of the modern Batak churches and in the contribution
individual Bataks have made to the now independent Republic of Indonesia.
There have been several large schisms from HKBP, and some bitter conflicts,
but the people of Tapanuli have found a new spiritual orientation for them-
selves and an orientation for life in a new age and a changed order that has
transformed their society in just over 150 years.
The success experienced in the early decades of the Batak Protestant church also
presented elements of challenge. Nommensen and his contemporaries knew
that their enterprise could not remain forever dependent on overseas mission
support. The magnitude of the task and the danger of producing a passive,
dependent Batak community both demanded a change in direction, toward
self-reliance and ultimately independence. To this end a Batak Missionary
Association, the Pardonganon Mission Batak, known more familiarly as the
Kongsi Batak, and later as the Zending Batak after it was integrated into the
HKBP structure in 1921, was formed in 1899. Henoch Lumbantobing, a
pandita Batak (Batak pastor), enjoyed some success in isolated areas such as
the district around Samosir, and on islands near Sumatra: Enggano, and the
Mentawai group, where an independent church, the Paamian Kristen Protestan
Mentawai was established.61
But not long after entering the twentieth century the Batak church faced
and experienced a series of waves of rapid and decisive change. Through
some channels of information, though still very simple and limited, the Batak
Christians knew that there was an emergence of nationalism among Asian
nations. Japan’s victory against Russia in 1905 raised a consciousness and
pride among Asian nations that they were not always behind and weaker than
60
A thorough study on this subject was provided in J.R. Hutauruk’s dissertation 1980 and
the Indonesian translation 1993.
61
Müller-Krüger 1968:286–287.
62
For a further description and analysis of HKB and M.H. Manullang see Hutauruk
1980:144–188.
63
One of the serious consequences was financial. Not only was its budget for its mission
field reduced significantly but RMG was also called to overcome the financial difficulties
faced by the churches in Germany. In some editions of Immanuel monthly in Batakland in
1925 we read RMG’s appeal to the Batak Christians and local congregations to collect funds
bahen manumpahi Rijnsche Zending na targogot di tingki on (to aid the RMG in its dire finan-
cial straits). A number of laymen and HKBP pastors even formed a Committee to Help the
Barmen Mission and Elders’ Mutual Aid Society that succeeded in collecting a sum to be sent
to Barmen: Aritonang 1994:276.
64
For a further information and analysis see Castles 1972:98–104 and Aritonang 2004:116–
118.
65
A similar spirit of independence and demands for indigenous participation was also seen
in the establishment of Punguan Kristen Batak (PKB, Batak Christian Gathering) at Batavia on
10 July 1927, that later grew to be a new church split from the great Batak Church, as well as
the Gereja Mission Batak (GMB, Batak Mission Church) at Medan on 17 July 1927. In November
1946 most of the HChB members founded Huria Kristen Indonesia (HKI, Indonesian Christian
Church), while some of them remained in HChB that in 1950 changed to become Gereja Kristen
Batak. For a further description see Pedersen 1970:149–156; Lempp 1976:232–272; Hutauruk
1980:204–208; and B.A. Simandjuntak 2001:476–490.
of the Batak Church, felt that they still needed time to establish a truly self-
reliant church, since they perceived that the Batak Christians were not mature
enough, especially in terms of spirituality and mentality. The attempt was,
however, intensified after the visit of Dr. Hendrik Kraemer in February-April
1930 and the receipt of his critical report. Kraemer concluded that the Batak
Mission showed a very strong possessive paternalism or patriarchalism, “the
pattern of relations was mostly patriarchal;” therefore he advised the German
missionaries to give the opportunity and trust to the Christian Batak.66 This
assessment was based on a very basic change in the theology of mission in
Europe after World War I. Strongly influenced by Karl Barth, one of the most
prominent Protestant theologians, Kraemer stated that the maturity of a church
did not depend on the evaluation of, and was not determined by, the mis-
sionaries, but merely by and under the judgment of the Word of God. World
War I had proved that the so-called Christian nations and churches were not
reliable anymore as the best examples.67
The Batak Mission called a synod in 1930 with the approval of the board
of RMG in Germany. This Great Synod (Synode Godang) produced a unique
church order or constitution and established a new name, Huria Kristen Batak
Protestan, as a fully recognised church, separated now from the founding mis-
sion. It was actually stated that the Batak Church should be led by the Batak
Christians and will become self-reliant (Batak: manjujung baringinna) and
an attempt was made to incorporate the wishes of the dissident groups into
the church order. In Kraemer’s words, “in this Constitution the Bataks have
been assigned a larger measure of independence and participation than they
had before.”68 But the bitterness of the division ran too deep. Moreover the
foreign leaders of the Batak Mission still needed time for the handing-over
of the leadership so that in the time of transition the top leadership posi-
tions should be still held by the German missionaries. That happened when
P. Landgrebe replaced Johannes Warneck in 1932 and E. Verwiebe replaced
Landgrebe in 1936.
This postponement of the transfer of leadership brought restlessness in
the Batak Church. It was no wonder then that not long after the Dutch
colonial officials interned the German missionaries, on 10 May 1940, as a
retaliatory response to the German occupation of the Netherlands, the Batak
Christian leaders held an Extraordinary or Special Synod on 10–11 July 1940.
They refused the agreement made by the Dutch colonial government, the
66
English translation of H. Kraemer’s report on Batakland and the Batak Mission/Church is
available in Kraemer 1958:43–72. The term ‘possessive paternalism’ was also used in Pedersen
1970:151.
67
Van den End 2002:15.
68
Kraemer 1958:63.
Zendingsconsulaat and the Batak Mission that the management of the Batak
Mission would be transferred to the Batak Nias Zending (BNZ), a special
mission institution established during the war to manage or to take over the
work and property of RMG in the Batak and Nias areas. In the election of
Voorzitter (Chairperson) of the HKBP (equivalent to the Ephorus) during that
Extraordinary Synod Pastor Kassianus Sirait, respected for his firmness and
willingness to confront foreign representatives at a time when independence
from the mission was at stake,69 won against Pastor Hans de Kleine, proposed
by the BNZ. Dr. J. Winkler, one of the officers of RMG, called this synod
Räubersynode (Synod of Robbers) and refused to release all property of the
Batak Mission to the “really self-reliant HKBP.”
The RMG could not understand how the HKBP could proclaim itself an
independent church without regard to the RMG, without expressing even a
few words of thanks for its ministry and without taking proper steps to effect
the separation. This disappointment increased when they read that the ‘radical
group’ in the Special Synod had laid claim to ownership of all RMG property
in the Batak area without buying it with money from the Batak Christian
community.70
While RMG was busy with the Dutch government and the Zendingsconsulaat
discussing how to continue administering its work and property, and while
BNZ was debating in a harsh quarrel with the HKBP leaders, Japanese troops
landed in March 1942, to occupy Indonesia. This Japanese occupation also
brought HKBP into a very difficult situation, among other factors due to the
Japanese suspicion that Christianity was a western religion, the religion of
the enemy and the religion of the colonialists, and that HKBP, like the other
churches, was pro-Western in its sympathies. During the short period of
1942–19145 many church buildings and practically all schools, hospitals and
many other buildings and property were forcibly taken over by the Japanese
to be used as warehouses, military barracks, etc. The seisure of property had
long-term consequences because this property sometimes passed to the control
of the succeeding government rather than being returned to the church.71
In the eyes of HKBP Japanese actions were a perversion of the message
in the Bible because they implanted anti-Christian teachings in the popula-
tion with the final goal of wiping out Christianity. For those who had been
with the RMG, these Japanese actions meant that, “the Church would lose its
69
Nyhus 1987:153.
70
Aritonang 1994:310. Only in 1948 did the RMG officially declare that the property of the
RMG in Sumatra belonged to HKBP. For HKBP this declaration was important as a symbol
of the change in relations with the RMG, i.e. partnership in obedience. Nyhus 1987:183, cf.
Aritonang 1994:312 and A. Lumbantobing 1961.
71
Nyhus 1987:131. For a further description regarding the effect of the Japanese occupation
on HKBP see Nyhus 1987:127–145 and 467–480.
influence over the youth. It would no longer be possible for the Church to
teach Christian young people in a Christian way through instruction in the
school.”72 For the members of HKBP in general, as happened too in all churches
at that time, this period also brought a serious temptation to their faith. They
were forced to worship and express homage to the Japanese Emperor Tenno
Heika by doing sheikerei (bowing or bending from the waist toward the sun,
since the emperor was believed to be descended from Amaterasu, the Sun
Goddess). Some of the HKBP leaders, like Justin Sihombing, tried to refuse
this ritual because they felt that by doing this they made the emperor equal
to God. But most HKBP leaders, for example at the Synods of 1942 and 1944,
publicly declared the church’s loyalty to the Japanese government, referring
to Romans 13:1–7.73
The two-year conflict with BNZ and the terrible conditions brought about
by the Japanese occupation were apparently too heavy for Kassianus Sirait
and so greatly disturbed his physical condition that he asked permission
to resign during another Extraordinary Synod in 1942. In the meantime,
with the arrival of the Japanese, many felt that a more quiet personality was
needed, and they found it in Justin Sihombing who succeeded as leader of
HKBP during this very difficult period.74 Like many other churches, the bitter
and harsh experience caused by the Japanese, however, brought a blessing in
disguise; it brought HKBP to a real self-reliance, according to Henry Venn
and John Nevius’ three-self formula: self-supporting, self-propagating and self-
governing. Although many Batak Christian teachers—doing a double task, in
the school as well as in the local congregation—resigned because the church
could not pay their salary and the Japanese authorities were not interested in
advancing education and the life of the church, HKBP was able to maintain
its existence and ministry.
72
As told by Hans de Kleine, who was also interned by the Japanese authorities, in Jahres
Bericht der RMG 1951/1952:20, quoted in Aritonang 1994:312.
73
Nyhus 1987:136.
74
Nyhus 1987:153. In the election of July 1940 Justin Sihombing was actually nominated by
many Batak/HKBP pastors. But he withdrew as an expression of his respect for Sirait, his senior.
Sihombing later became the longest-serving Batak Ephorus of HKBP (1942–1962).
75
Nyhus 1987:145–146, 483–484.
76
M. van Langenberg, “National Revolution,” 414–416; cited in Nyhus 1987:486.
77
Nyhus 1987:487.
78
Nyhus 1987:177.
79
Nyhus 1987:179–181.
80
By becoming a member of the LWF, from 1954 onwards HKBP could receive a generous
amount of grants, among others—with the support also of the RMG and some other overseas
partners—to establish a large university in Medan and Pematangsiantar, called Nommensen
University. Pedersen 1970:167–170.
81
Regarding PRRI see also Aritonang 2004:303–307 and R.Z. Leirissa 1991.
82
Regarding the migration in the 1950s see further Clark E. Cunningham 1958.
83
For a further description and analysis of this subject see Hutauruk 1980:208–222. A recent
study on GKPS can be found in Juandaha R.P. Dasuha et al. 2003.
(a government officer) and Rev. Jaulung Wismar Saragih (1888–1968, the first
Simalungun pastor)84 they also expressed their sincere aspiration by establish-
ing some supporting organisations such as Komite Na Ra Marpodah (Advisory
Committee, especially for literature and evangelism), Kongsi Laita (“Let’s go”
Society for Evangelism) and—during the Japanese occupation—Parguruan
Saksi ni Kristus (Communion of Christ’s Witnesses), and issuing the Sinalsal
(Ray) monthly.85 All this was attempted under a motto: Simalungun should
be won by and in the language of the Simalungun people.
The Batak Mission and the HKBP did not give a sincere and rapid response
to this Simalungun aspiration. Only in 1935 did Simalungun become a dis-
trict in HKBP and only some years later did a Simalungun pastor, J. Wismar
Saragih, administer it. In 1953, in the celebration of 50 years of the procla-
mation of the gospel in Simalungun, while the Simalungun Christians asked
for an independent church, HKBP declared a special autonomy for this
district, with a special name: HKBP Simalungun, and appointed J. Wismar
Saragih as a Vice-Ephorus for this autonomous district. In the eyes of the
Simalungun Christians this postponement of independence was just copying
the paternalistic character of the Batak Mission against the former aspiration
of the Toba-Batak Christians. Therefore they strove more intensively until
the establishment of GKPS was realised in 1963. Although the ‘maturation’
of GKPS was celebrated in a big ceremony, many Simalungun Christians felt
that the Toba-Bataks in HKBP wanted to continue their spiritual and eccle-
sial imperialism toward them. That is why, from then until the present, there
has been an increasing consciousness among some Simalungun people that
they are not a branch of the Bataks, notwithstanding the traditional belief or
mythology that the Simalungun margas (clans) are part or branches of the
margas of the Toba-Batak community.
We can find a similar case in Angkola-Mandailing region. Since the 1950s
the feeling has increased among the Angkola-Mandailing Christians that they
were too much dominated by the Toba-Bataks, while they were also aware and
proud of their own language (or dialect) and adat (custom) and of their region
as the starting point of the successful RMG work. When they asked in the
early 1960s for an independent church, HKBP only gave a form of autonomy,
including a special name: HKBP Angkola. After some further years of striv-
ing, in 1975 this church secured full independence with a new name: Gereja
Kristen Protestan Angkola (Angkola Christian Protestant Church) and—like
84
A recent study of J.W. Saragih from the so-called post-colonial perspective can be found
in Martin L. Sinaga 2004.
85
Van den End 2002:197.
86
See further J.U. Siregar 1999.
87
For supplementary description of the emergence of GKPI see; Pedersen 1970:173–178;
Lempp 1976:273–276; Raja Lubis 1982; and B.A. Simandjuntak 2001:489–500. In 2005 GKPI
had around 340,000 members gathered in around 1000 local congregations and served by
Besides GKPI, there is another church that split from HKBP during the same
time, the HKBP Luther (later changed to Gereja Kristen Luther Indonesia/GKLI,
Indonesian Christian Lutheran Church). This church, led by Rev. J. Sinaga and
his family, has a strong relationship with the Norwegian Lutheran Church as
shown by the establishment of a theological seminary at Sihabong-habong,
in North Tapanuli (now Humbang Hasundutan) where its headquarters is
also located. Some years later (in the early 1980s), after another internal
conflict in HKBP, especially in Medan, there came another split, forming the
Gereja Punguan Partangiangan, later changed to Gereja Protestan Persekutuan
(Protestant Church of Fellowship). Then in 1992—after some years of struggle
and attempts—the Pakpak-Dairi tribe in HKBP founded its own church, Gereja
Kristen Protestan Pakpak-Dairi (GKPPD). Therefore, since the 1920s there have
been at least nine churches split or derived from HKBP: HChB/GKB, HKI,
GMB, GKPS, GKPI, GKLI, GKPA, GPP and GKPPD. These churches (except
HChB/GKB that is already defunct) became members of DGI/PGI together
with HKBP, and most also became members of international ecumenical
bodies (WCC, CCA, LWF and UEM). However, an increasingly closer rela-
tionship and cooperation between HKBP and its ‘children’ is also seen in PGI
Wilayah (the regional communion of churches) in North Sumatra, as well as
in many other provinces. This phenomenon is included in what was termed
and described by Paul Pedersen in his book as the expression of Batak Blood
and Protestant Soul (1970).
The establishment of new churches solved not all internal tension and
conflicts. A quite sharp conflict in HKBP broke out again in the 1970s, also
involving the hands of political power-holders, either members of HKBP or not.
The epicentre was once again the Nommensen University, and in particular the
Theological Faculty. Since 1973 a number of lecturers and students were dis-
missed and in 1977 this faculty split into two entities. The one was still part of
the university while the other, called Sekolah Tinggi Theologia “Penggembalaan”
(‘Pastoral’ Theological Seminary), had to borrow some classrooms or buildings
from other churches (like HKI and GKPI) at Pematangsiantar. The problem
was solved when in 1979 the Theological Faculty separated from the university
and acquired its new name and legal entity: Sekolah Tinggi Theologia (STT)
HKBP (HKBP Theological Seminary) and the dismissed lecturers and students
were called back to the campus.
An unending struggle, experienced by HKBP and its ‘children’ together
with many other churches in North Sumatra (including GBKP below), is
approximately 225 pastors. Besides being a member of DGI/PGI since 1976, GKPI is also
member of WCC, CCA, LWF and the United Evangelical Mission (UEM, continuation and
extension of RMG).
the encounter and tension between gospel and adat (custom).88 Generally
speaking the Batak churches held the position inherited from the RMG, that
is to divide the adat or the whole traditional culture into three categories:
positive, neutral and negative. The positive elements (such as language, script
and literature, social and family system and relationship,89 certain marriage
values, and certain philosophical values) as well as the neutral elements (such
as housing and architecture, the agricultural system, textile and weaving, the
almanac and calendar system, some musical instruments, various kinds of
knowledge and technical/practical skills, and much equipments for daily life)
are accepted—even endorsed and developed—in the church, whereas the
negative elements (such as worshipping the ancestors, witchcraft and divina-
tion) must be rejected.90 In the respective church orders this acceptance or
rejection is also stated.
Evidently this categorisation is not always apparent and cannot help the
Christian Bataks to answer many questions. In its very essence adat or culture
is a all-embracing entity that cannot be specified using criteria from outside.
From 27 July to 1 August 1968, at Nommensen University Pematangsiantar,
HKBP held a Seminar Adat under a theme Panindangion Hakristenon di Adat
(Witnessing Christianity in Adat). Eight years later (6–9 August and 16–20
November 1976), together with some other churches in North Sumatra (HKI,
GKPS, GKPI, GBKP, Roman Catholic), HKBP and the Indonesian Regional
Asia Programme for Advanced Studies (IRAPAS), and sponsored by LWF, held
a series of Seminar Adat Batak. The aim of this seminar was to find a way out
to the problems caused by the encounter and collision of Christianity and Batak
Adat. There were a number of attractive findings and recommendations,91 but
many problems are still outstanding, even after so many seminars, workshops
and the like.92 In the meantime, since the 1980s and culminating in the 1990s,
some leaders from Evangelical and Pentecostal-Charismatic circles presented
their negative assessment and rejection of adat. Sometimes they showed this
through a demonstrative action such as burning ulos (traditional textile),93
carvings and many other traditional crafts, based on a judgment that all these
88
One of the in-depth studies on this subject is Schreiner 1972.
89
For a further description of family relationship see Kathryn J. Brinemann Bovill 1985:
127–136.
90
For a detailed specification of these three categories see Aritonang 1994:42–66.
91
Compiled in mimeographed publication, “Seminar Adat di HKBP 27 Juli–1 Agustus 1968”
and “Seminar Adat Batak diselenggarakan oleh IRAPAS,” 2 volumes.
92
The last big event on this issue was the seminar of 24–26 June 2001 in Jakarta, together
with the launching of a Festschrift for the 75th anniversary of Prof. Dr. Lothar Schreiner (ed.
A.A. Sitompul et al. 2001).
93
Besides some Christian Bataks’ writings, there is a very important writing on ulos: see
Sandra A. Niessen 1985. But the anti-adat groups generally ignore such an appreciation and
respect for traditional products.
materials are full of satanic power. Parallel with the increasing tendency of
exodus (or at least double-membership) of many members of the so-called
traditional churches to the Evangelical-Pentecostal churches, this conflict has
brought some losses to both sides. There have been many polemic publications
issued by both sides that ultimately were widening the distance between them
instead of promoting mutual understanding and respect.94
It is not exaggerating if we conclude that these two decades are the most
crucial period in the nearly 150 years of the history of the Batak Churches,
especially HKBP. Although in terms of quantity HKBP still flourished (in the
1990s around 3 million members) and many of its members were well-known
as successful businessmen and high-ranked government or military officers,
nevertheless—or just because of this fact—HKBP could not escape a series of
tremendous conflicts and turmoil. This episode became very important because
it was not only dealing with HKBP but also involved many other churches,
not to say all Christians in the country. Moreover during this period there
were also many other incidents that more or less paralleled or had connection
with HKBP’s case (see chapter six). As usual in religious history, theological,
personal and some other motives are interwoven and intermingled. Some
theological problems that come to the fore, especially regarding church rela-
tions to the government, are very fundamental and have been repeatedly faced
by the churches during many centuries.
In the Great Synod 27–31 January 1987 S.A.E. Nababan was elected to be
ephorus of HKBP for the term of 1986–1992.96 His competitor, P.M. Sihombing,
was actually his colleague and close friend during their ministry in DGI/PGI
in 1970s, and was the general secretary of HKBP in 1980–1986. His supporters
were dissatisfied and accused Nababan of using unfair and fraudulent tactics
94
One of the most prolific writers from the side of adat protagonist in this recent time is the
Methodist Church member Richard Sinaga, Adat Budaya Batak dan Kekristenan 2000, while
from the Evangelical-Pentecostal side there are two productive writers, Rev. A.H. Parhusip,
Jorbut ni Adat Batak Hasipelebeguon/The Awfulness of the Heathen Adat Batak n.d. and Posma
Situmorang, Ulos di tengah Adat Batak/Ulos in the midst of Adat Batak 1998.
95
It is not easy to present a clear and objective picture on this subject, since most of the
data come from one or the other side involved in the conflict; each of them trying to justify
themselves while blaming the other. We use here materials from both sides and from neutral
observers while trying to give a balanced description and evaluation.
96
The election synod should actually have been held in 1986, but due to the celebration of
the HKBP’s 125th anniversary that was also attended by President and Mrs. Tien Soeharto,
the synod was postponed to January 1987; P.M. Sihombing was also the chairman of the
anniversary committee.
to win the election.97 Since Sihombing and his followers98 could not prove the
charge, they had to seek other chances. Soon after Nababan became ephorus
he declared a programme of improvement, ‘reformation’ and development.
According to his observation, during the last twenty years HKBP had expe-
rienced a very serious decline in many aspects and fields, in socio-economic
as well as spiritual aspects.
To enhance the socio-economic life of the people and to fight for their
rights Nababan encouraged HKBP, based on his social theology,99 to support
some NGOs committed to the empowerment of the poor in North Sumatra.100
Parallel with this, in order to recover the spiritual life, and especially to stop
an increasing tendency to practice old beliefs (worshipping ancestors etc.)
after an enormous earthquake at Tarutung in April 1987, he announced a
programme of re-evangelising the members of HKBP. For this aim he recom-
mended the Badan Pendukung Pelaksana Zending (BPP Zending; Supporting
Body for Evangelisation), established in Jakarta a few years previously, to
organise a special team named Tim Evangelisasi Nehemia (TEN, Nehemia
Evangelisation Team).
This TEN had a very strong link with some Evangelical and Charismatic
groups (see chapter eighteen) and used some of their popular methods of
evangelisation like revival meetings, personal evangelism and healing (some-
times it was accused to practise baptism of naked adults and healing sessions
with women in closed rooms), exorcism, altar calls, giving of a blessing by
the laying of hands (by persons who were not ordained pastors). The P.M.
Sihombing or Parritrit group viewed these practices as contrary to the doc-
trine, confession of faith and order of worship of the HKBP, and charged
that Nababan and this TEN brought a serious danger to the spiritual life of
97
At least since the 1960s the process of election of the top leaders (ephorus and the like) in
HKBP as well as in any other Batak churches was frequently full of intrigues. There were always
a number of candidates trying to chase this chair. One reason was explained in A. Lumbantobing
1961, “The Christian Bataks believed that—as during the time of Nommensen—by achieving
this office the office-bearer will achieve a special sahala (special spiritual power) that in turn
would give certain benefits to the election winner or successful achiever.”
98
This P.M. Sihombing group, consisting of twenty pastors and some other ministers and
lay members, was later called Parritrit (Retreat group) because they held a retreat at Parapat in
March 1987 to consolidate them and to mobilise supporters. The minutes of the retreat were
issued in two booklets entitled “Parmaraan di HKBP—Quo Vadis HKBP?” (Disaster within
the HKBP), and “Nunga Lam Patar” (It has been clearer). “Building the Truth” (a document
provided by Nababan’s rival), p. 3; Steenbrink 1994:63.
99
His social theology was mainly developed since his involvement in the preparation of
the general assembly of WCC at Uppsala in 1968. See among others his writings: Iman dan
Kemiskinan (Faith and Poverty 1966), Apa Kata Uppsala? (What did Uppsala Say? 1969),
Keselamatan Masakini (Salvation Today 1973, translation of reports of and comments on the
1972–1973 Bangkok Assembly of the CWME).
100
John MacDougall 1994:6–7.
101
“Building the Truth”, p. 3.
102
There were 19 pastors dismissed (including P.M. Sihombing) besides a number of Guru
Huria (teacher-preachers), Bijbelvrouw (Bible women), deaconesses, officials of Nommensen
University and students of the Teacher-Preacher School; “Building the Truth”, p. 4; Steenbrink
1994:63; Moksa Nadeak et al. 1995:64–68.
103
“Building the Truth”, p. 1, said: “His harsh and authoritarian leadership had resulted in
many reactions and disagreement among the members and pastors of the HKBP,” while pp. 3,
4 and 6 said, “Dr. S.A.E. Nababan dared to treat the General Secretary [O.P.T. Simorangkir]
as not more than an ordinary employee.” “He often threatened his staff members, namely the
praeses, pastors of parishes and staff of headquarter”, and “Dr. Nababan during his leadership
term emphasised the obedience of all staff to the church constitution, but his own actions were
often beyond and contrary to the HKBP constitution. All the facts obviously had described
the characteristics of Nababan’s leadership which were authoritarian, controversial and uncon-
stitutional.”
104
Nababan and KSPPM sharply criticised this factory because it led to environmental
destruction around Lake Toba, both by causing air and water pollution and by clear-felling
the forest, while Soeharto and his regime backed it for certain benefits. Gerry van Klinken
1996:1–2.
and which had many members holding high positions in the government ser-
vice, Nababan’s criticism and opposition toward the government were viewed
unduly harshly and out of proportion.105 It is no wonder that as time went on
he experienced more and more resistance.
In the 51st Great Synod, from 23 to 28 November 1992, at Sipoholon-
Tarutung the tension escalated dramatically. “In reality the process of the
synod’s sessions was very heavy. Some sessions were knocked down by dis-
turbances and storms, so that the three items for the plenary sessions that had
been approved by the Police National Headquarter could not be decided by
voting.”106 Although it is not easy to provide an accurate number how many
of the synod participants were pro and contra Nababan, it is obvious that the
synod could not run properly. The last day of the synod assembly ended in
chaos. Nababan as the chair of the synod could no longer manage the assem-
bly. He suspended the assembly without a definite decision and went home
around 22.00 pm., while the licence for the assembly was valid until 24.00
pm. What happened after the suspension is quite unclear.107 Referring to the
document quoted in the footnote below, as well as some other documents
from the anti-Nababan side, it was Nababan’s side that asked the government,
in effect the military, to take over the leadership,108 while the documents from
105
Nababan’s criticism against some of the policies and acts of the New Order regime actu-
ally reflected DGI/PGI’s standpoint. But the government, esp. President Soeharto, developed
this into a personal sentiment. Nababan was once charged as a communist when he—at an
international conference in Portugal—expressed his support and sympathy for the Theology
of Liberation exponents in Latin America (cf. “Building the Truth,” p. 19; MacDougall 1994:8).
The government was also suspected of hampering his re-election as general chairperson of PGI
in the eleventh general assembly at Surabaya in 1989.
106
“Building the Truth”, p. 8. The three items were: (1) To discuss and approve the HKBP
Constitution of 1992–2002; (2) To elect the office bearers of the HKBP for the term of 1992–1998;
and (3) To resolve the conflicts within the HKBP. The quotation also obviously showed how
the government played its role in church business. Many other examples in this document as
well as in some other documents showed the same fact. Meanwhile this document did not tell
who were causing “disturbances and storms”, whereas Moksa Nadeak et al. 1995:75 stated that
they came from the anti-Nababan group, led by O.P.T. Simorangkir and S.M. Siahaan.
107
In “Building the Truth”, p. 9, it was said, “The members of the Central Council of the
HKBP immediately held an extraordinary meeting in order to take some steps to resolve the
confused session. . . . Bearing the responsibility to save the HKBP in his mind, and at the request
of the Central Council, the then General Secretary, Rev. O.P.T. Simorangkir, continued to con-
duct the session of General Synod for the remaining time before the deadline. After consulting
the Central Council members, he came to a decision that the caretakers were . . . (five names
were mentioned). They were expected to organise an Extraordinary Synod 5 months after the
51th General Synod. Unfortunately after presenting the decision in the plenary session, some
delegates . . . (some names from Nababan’s side were mentioned) protested the General Secretary’s
decision. They requested the government to cancel such a decision, and furthermore they asked
the government to take over the HKBP’s situation.” But in Moksa Nadeak et al. 1995:76–78 we
find a very different picture.
108
In a special section of the document “Building the Truth”, entitled “The Issue on Gov-
ernment ‘Intervention’ ” (pp. 11–2), it was among other things said, “The contribution or
the ‘intervention’ (campurtangan) . . . in the HKBP obviously was not a ‘cause’ but a ‘result’ of
Nababan’s side and certain observers insisted that it was the anti-Nababan
side that invited the government.109
Whichever is true, in fact Colonel Daniel Toding, the Military Regimental
Commander, took over control and announced that the HKBP issue was now
in the hands of the government, while he also said, “The government will
do the best for HKBP.” When the deadline of the synod’s licence had passed,
Colonel Daniel Toding dissolved the synod’s session without any formal clos-
ing ceremonies namely prayer, worship and the Holy Communion, which
were usual.110
The suspension or dissolution of the Great Synod brought HKBP to an
unclear situation. The Nababan side said that the synod was suspended, and
that Nababan was still the ephorus (this standpoint was later maintained by
Nababan and his followers until 1998). They did not recognise the dissolution
by Colonel Toding, because they saw that it was contrary to the constitution of
HKBP. But his rival’s side said that the dissolution was legal, since the licence
for the synod assembly was only until 28 November and Nababan’s term was
over. Therefore “since 29 November 1992 the leadership of the HKBP had
been vacant and therefore it was delivered to the government and security
officers.”111
After receiving reports from Colonel Toding and from the then general
secretary of HKBP, O.P.T. Simorangkir, Major General R. Pramono, the Area
Commander of the Military Region of Bukit Barisan invited the members of
the Central Council of the HKBP to hold a consultation on 16 December 1992
in Medan. An invitation was also sent to S.A.E. Nababan but he did not attend
the event.112 In the consultation, referring to certain articles in the constitu-
tion of HKBP, the members of the Central Council proposed three names
as responsible persons to organise an Extraordinary Synod, namely Rev. Dr.
W. Sihite, Rev. Dr. A.A. Sitompul and Rev. Dr. S.M. Siahaan. One week later, 23
Dr. Nababan’s leadership that had created the procrastinating and spread tensions. If the gov-
ernment’s involvement in the HKBP supported his interest and his followers’ interest, he and
his followers kept quiet about it and they would not identify it as ‘intervention’. Otherwise,
if government’s involvement did not support their wellbeing and inflicted their interest, they
immediately condemned it as ‘intervention’. . . . The fact impressed that Dr. Nababan and his
followers used a ‘double standard’ in evaluating the government’s involvement. They agreed
with something, which favoured them. Otherwise, they condemned something as ‘intervention’
if they were not in favour.”
109
B.A. Simandjuntak 2001:512 pointed out that it was O.P.T. Simorangkir who frequently
asked for the government’s intervention during his term as the General Secretary, especially in
1992, including in the cancellation of the planned General or Great Synod of June 1992.
110
“Building the Truth”, p. 10.
111
“Building the Truth”, p. 10.
112
In the document provided by Nababan’s side, Nababan did not attend because in his
opinion the government or the military commander had no right and authority to handle
church conflicts, as this was the church’s own responsibility.
113
“Building the Truth”, p. 11.
114
Reactions from PGI dated on 29 December 1992, 4 January 1993, and 2–5 March 1993
that among others regretted the intervention ‘from outside’ and the violence used.
115
Nababan’s side, that later was popularly called Setia Sampai Akhir (SSA, Be faithful until
the end), although they preferred to call themselves “HKBP Aturan & Peraturan” (HKBP-AP,
HKBP of Constitution), charged that the location of the synod in a hotel, i.e. Hotel Tiara, was
against the constitution. But the other side claimed that it was constitutional, because it was
opened and closed in a church building, i.e. HKBP Jalan Sudirman Medan, and argued that
the sessions took place in a public hall, Tiara Convention Centre, not in Tiara Hotel. Actually
the convention centre is part of the hotel.
116
Besides referring to certain articles of the HKBP constitution of 1982–1992 and the
proportion of participants (464 out of 562 that had credentials; according to Moksa Nadeak
et al. 1995:84 many of them were ‘fake’), the protagonists of this synod also pointed to the
presence of some government officers like Director General for the Guidance of Protestant
Society within the Department of Religious Affairs, the Governor of North Sumatra, and the
Area Commander of Military Region Bukit Barisan, “Building the Truth”, p. 13. This kind of
argument or defence was frequently found in the documents provided by the protagonists
(later called Simanjuntak-Siahaan group, although they were also commonly called “HKBP
SAI Tiara,” the HKBP produced by the synod in Tiara Hotel).
117
See conclusion in Gerry van Klinken 1996:3–4.
Whatever may be said by either side to prove their respective legality and
constitutionality, as a matter of fact, before and after the extraordinary synod
and in the coming years, at least until 1996, there were uncountable incidents
that showed a serious disruption, division and even hostility in the corpus of
HKBP. Brutal physical clashes (many times accompanied by hired thugs and
hoodlums, actions, arrest and torture by the military, in several cases leading to
death), intimidation, destruction of buildings and properties (including church
buildings and parsonages with their furniture), filing of lawsuits from each
side to the courts, and many kinds of violence were a daily picture.118 Certain
external observers noticed that there was some violence from the Nababan
side too, but this was legally prosecuted, while none on the Simanjuntak side
were prosecuted for their offences.119 This conflict split many congregations
into two factions (sometimes more) and they had to compete for use of the
church buildings. The smaller faction (most of them are the AP-SSA group)
in many cases had to gather in private houses or even in the open fields (par-
lape-lapean). This conflict also brought disharmony and division in society
and families: husband and wife, parents versus children, brothers and sisters
and members of the same clan were caught up in the harsh conflict. Not infre-
quently members of a family divided into these two blocks and it took long
time to recover. The conflict became more complicated when each side felt
that some institutions outside HKBP were taking sides. Simanjuntak-Siahaan
and associates, or the “Tiara” group, for example, complained that VEM/UEM
in Wuppertal-Germany and PGI supported Nababan.120 S.M. Siahaan even
wrote a letter to cancel the membership of HKBP in VEM/UEM.121 On the
other hand Nababan and associates, or the AP-SSA group, charged that the
118
In “Building the Truth”, p. 17, it was said, “the supporters of Nababan were not reluctant
to perform brutality and despicable deeds which had claimed a number of lives as well as
properties . . . besides doing some terrors and intimidation, killed a police officer sadistically.”
Whereas in Jochen Motte (ed.) ± 1994:21–23 (document provided by VEM/UEM as supporter
of Nababan), we find 132 names from Nababan’s side who were arrested and tortured by the
military and police before and after the Extraordinary Synod of February 1993. The more hor-
rible torture was described in MacDougall 1994:1–5, that among others fell on Rev. Nelson
Siregar, director of the HKBP community development department while also the executive
secretary of KSPPM.
119
Gerry van Klinken 1996:2 John MacDougall 1994:6.
120
The “Tiara” group, for example, mentioned the transfer of DM 480.000 from VEM/UEM
to HKBP (with a note, “Ephorus Nababan is the one who can spend this money”) through
certain accounts of PGI. They also complained that a number of mass media in Germany were
pressed by Nababan to publish a distorted story about HKBP, and that Simanjuntak and Siahaan
were not accepted as the official representatives in the Central Committee meeting of PGI at
Bandung on 7–13 May 1993; “Building the Truth”, pp. 15–6. On the other side, in Jochen Motte
(ed.) ± 1994:5 we find VEM/UEM’s statement that it supported and still recognised Nababan
as the Ephorus of HKBP and did not recognise Simanjuntak-Siahaan or the “Tiara” side.
121
Dated on 15 April 1993 and quoted in Jochen Motte (ed.) ± 1994:47–8.
government was playing a role behind this conflict with a plan to paralyse
and destroy Christian potentialities in this country.122
There were many attempts to resolve the conflict and to bring reconcilia-
tion and peace. In 1990, for example, there was another Tim Damai (Peace
Team) consisting of eleven prominent lay leaders in HKBP, led by Ret. General
Maraden Panggabean, Ret. Major General A.E. Manihuruk and Ret. Rear
Admiral F.M. Parapat, including some serving generals. This team was formally
sanctioned by the then Minister of Religious Affairs, Munawir Sjadzali, but
was rejected by Nababan as an initiative that “is unknown in our church order
and therefore should be considered as an intermingling of an outside power”.123
A similar attempt was made by the North Sumatra provincial government
that set up Kelompok Kerja Terpadu Penyelesaian Masalah HKBP (a United
Working Group to Settle the HKBP Problem) in October 1992. Members
included the regional commander and the provincial head of police. One of its
actions was to issue a statement that neither Nababan nor Secretary General
O.P.T. Simorangkir could be a candidate for ephorus in the upcoming synod.
Nababan’s followers, however, ignored the directive and nominated him.124
After the Extraordinary Synod of February 1993 another effort was attempted
by Ret. Major General T.B. Silalahi, State Minister for the Utilisation of the
State Apparatus, in June 1993, under the urging of President Soeharto.125 Mr.
Silalahi successfully organised a meeting between Dr. P.W.T. Simanjuntak and
Dr. S.A.E. Nababan. They signed an agreement of seven points on 14th June
1993. The agreement, among other things, stated that, “Rev. Dr. S.A.E. Nababan
supports the government decision in recognising Rev. Dr. P.W.T. Simanjuntak
as the HKBP Ephorus and gives him opportunity to lead the HKBP in harmony
122
See among others Moksa Nadeak et al. 1995 and Einar Sitompul et al. (eds.) 1997. It is
interesting to notice that at about the same time there was also a serious conflict within the
faculty of Christian University Satya Wacana at Salatiga-Central Java, in which the government
also interfered. A few years later a series of riots also broke out in many places that brought
tremendous numbers of victims and loss among the Christians (cf. chapter six).
123
Quoted in Steenbrink 1994:63. MacDougall 1994:8–9 also noted that the rejection was
also based on the findings of the Nababan group, that the main aim of the “Peace Team” was to
overthrow Nababan, as admitted by M. Panggabean in their ‘safari’ to Sibolga on 30 September
1990. This team, MacDougall added, also had the full cooperation of the military, and in
1992—after this team had discharged itself in 1991—Panggabean backed Maj.Gen. Pramono
in his bid to oust Nababan. See also Moksa Nadeak et al. 1995:68–73.
124
MacDougall 1994:10.
125
The “Tiara” group noted further: The event was broadcasted by the National Television
(TVRI) and published by the national newspapers. Unfortunately within less than 24 hours
Dr. Nababan had broken the agreement. In a service at the HKBP Church in Jalan Pabrik
Tenun Medan on 15 July (should be 15 June; ed.) Nababan was still declaring himself as the
ephorus, “Building the Truth”, 16–17. Toward such a charge S.A.E. Nababan, in his explana-
tion to the 14 June agreement, among other things, said that the handing over of the office of
ephorus must be done in the coming constitutional Synod, not in the moment of signing the
agreement; Jochen Motte (ed.) ± 1994:25.
and peace”. But this agreement was evidently abortive. In October 1994 the
“HKBP Tiara” held the so-called 52nd Great Synod at Sipoholon Seminary,
the same location as the chaotic and failed 51st Great Synod of 1992, under
the theme “And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts” and sub-theme
“The Oneness and Unity of the HKBP supports the National Stability for the
Sake of the Continuation of Nation and Country.” But this synod, like the
previous attempts, was also viewed by the AP-SSA side as unconstitutional
and “full of the political engineering of the government” and did not bring
any result for reconciliation.
Much has been published regarding this complicated conflict, from both
sides as well as from the external observers and analysts. Each writer tried to
explain and analyse the state of affairs including the causes and the contribut-
ing factors.126 But one of the very striking aspects, and the mostly criticised,
is the political aspect that is the involvement or intervention of the govern-
ment.127 This brought the conflict to a very fundamental question: how should
the church view and build its relationship with the government and how far
might the government enter church or any other religious community’s affairs?
Soeharto and his regime frequently stated that the government has no right
to interfere with the internal affairs of a religion, neither with its doctrine
nor with its organisation, and guarantees religious freedom according to the
Constitution of 1945,128 but this HKBP case showed otherwise. This question
becomes a perpetual question for all churches.
Whatever explanation, opinion and argument could be given, this compli-
cated HKBP conflict had broken the image of Christianity in Indonesia, and
especially that of the Protestant clergy. For a long time they were honoured
as vicarius Christi to bring peace and harmony, but since the conflict they
have been stigmatised as lover of conflict. While we may be glad that this
conflict has finally been resolved, it is not yet fully satisfying to all sides. After
so many riots and crises and after the fall of the New Order regime129 there
126
B.A. Simandjuntak in 2001:503–29 and in his article in Einar Sitompul et al. (eds.)
1997:41–72, for example, tried to explain this HKBP conflict from a social-cultural perspective.
He, among others, concluded that conflict is part of the culture and habit of the Bataks and
should not necessarily be assessed negatively; therefore he suggested that the resolution should
also refer to cultural values and practices. Cf. Kraemer 1958:51, “Great difficulties are caused
by the strong self-assurance of the Bataks and by their quarrelsome nature.”
127
MacDougall 1994:15–16, for example, among other things concluded: A series of measures
taken by military and civilian authorities were used to deny the AP-SSA members their inter-
nationally-recognised rights to freedom of religion, expression, association and assembly.”
128
Among others at the celebration of the Hindu day of fasting, Hari Nyepi, on 9 April 1992,
as cited in Steenbrink 1994:71 from an article by Eka Darmaputera regarding the conflict in
HKBP.
129
The fall of Soeharto and New Order regime could bring different interpretation and sig-
nificance among the conflicting sides. For Nababan/SSA’s side this might justify their conviction
The history of the Protestant mission to the Karo Batak people of North
Sumatra, unlike the steady progress of the church among the Toba Batak,
is one of staunch resistance followed by enthusiastic response, both features
that call for careful analysis and explanation. Sixty years of persistent and
well-informed Protestant missionary effort among the Karo people of North
Sumatra, from 1890 to 1950, produced a church of only 5,000 members, which
then grew to 35,000 in the next fifteen years (1950–1965), followed by 60,000
new baptisms in the four years, 1966–1970.131
Similarly, response to Islam in Karoland is marked by strong resistance until
the 1960s, followed by significant growth in Karo conversions since then.132
that they were so long struggling against a tyrannical power. For “Tiara” ’s side this might bring
an awareness that from now on they had no more ‘backing’ or protector so that it was better
to reconcile, to recover the unity of HKBP.
130
Because several recent studies of the mission to the Karo people and religious change in
their society are readily available, this section avoids repeating detailed information and seeks
instead to provide an overview of Karo response to the coming of Christianity. Some material
in this section was published in Rae 2000.
131
Rita Smith Kipp 1990 surveys the initial fifteen years, 1889–1904, from the perspective of
the mission and its staff. This basically historical study is enriched by Professor Kipp’s earlier
anthropological fieldwork in Karoland. Simon Rae, 1994, surveyed the process of religious
change into the late 1970s, from the perspective of Karonese reaction to the intruding world
religions. Professor Kipp’s collected essays, Rita Smith Kipp 1993 offers updated field reports
on some of the issues around Karo religion.
132
Because Muslim communities do not keep statistics of either new members or the member-
ship of local communities one must rely instead on local government statistics, often expressed
in terms of percentages of the total population, and on information from individual villages.
There were a few villages in the Karo highlands with significant Muslim com-
munities before World War II, and other villages with one or two Muslim
families. An unknown number of Karonese became Muslim in the lowland
areas of the Malay sultanates, but in doing so they departed out of the Karo
community to masuk Melayu, to enter the predominantly (Muslim) Malay
society of the east coast. In the years since Indonesian independence many
people in the former Malay sultanates have reclaimed their Karonese ances-
try, and resumed the use of clan names. Now consciously both Karonese and
Muslim they have given a new impetus to Muslim mission in Karoland.
Finally, in recent decades, there has been observed some development
toward a de facto secularism on the one hand and a revival of the traditional
religion and the assimilation of its beliefs and practices into a popular form
of Hinduism (one of the government-recognised Indonesian religions) on
the other.
133
Kinship structure and function have been extensively described by the Karonese anthro-
pologist, Masri Singarimbun 1975 and by Rita Smith Kipp 1976. Kipp 1996 is a valuable account
of ethnicity, social structure and religious practice in contemporary Karo society.
of the dead, but also on the cult of the tendi or spirit of the living, which on
death became a begu. This was a pattern of belief widely reported in regions
of Southeast Asia where Islam had not displaced traditional religions.134 In
the practice of their religion the Karonese gave attention also to the nature
spirits of land and water, mountain, and river and of places of particular awe
and mystery. The spirits of recently deceased close kin were believed to offer
support and protection and received offerings, but were forgotten with the
passing of time.
A major divinity was recognised by the Karonese, and spoken of by either
traditional Batak or Sanskrit names (the latter, Dibata, being now recognised
as the Batak name for God). This divinity was said to have a three-fold
being—God Above, God in the Middle World and God Below, probably a local
adaptation of Indian religious belief. There are few rites associated with the
divine triad, which is represented in daily life by other and more immediate
manifestations of the divine world.
Other supernatural beings were recognised, such as goblins, fairies and jinn,
and one very significant kin group also had a particular religious significance.
These are the kalimbubu, one’s wife’s father and brothers and their families,
and one’s mother’s father and brothers and their families. This group was
spoken of as dibata niidah or ‘visible gods.’ In traditional society they were
seen as a source of life and blessing, a living manifestation or agency of the
divine world.
Karo society was characterised by a curiosity about the beliefs and practices
of others, and a willingness to adopt at least some of the concepts and termi-
nology of the Indian traders and the Muslim communities they encountered
on the coast. Their society was characterised also by competition or rivalry
with both the lowland Malay population of the East Coast and the popula-
tion of Aceh to the north. Both of these neighbouring societies were Muslim,
the Acehnese particularly staunchly so. In the latter half of the nineteenth
century the Malay sultans, originally river-port rulers who controlled Karo
trade outlets and who could expand their own territories only at the expense
of the lowland Karonese, found powerful sponsors and allies in the European
colonial enterprises, established on the coast from about 1863.
The intentions of the warlike and ardently Muslim Acehnese were never
certain and the possibility of a forced Islamisation of Karoland, as had occurred
in the southern Batak territories, seems to have been a fear of the pre-colo-
nial Karonese. There is evidence that some limited Acehnese penetration of
Karoland had been attempted in pre-colonial times, and it was probably only
the protracted Dutch-Acehnese war that prevented this being attempted again
134
Jeanne Cuisinier 1951.
in the nineteenth century. On the other hand there are Karo traditions and
stories that speak of friendly contact with the southern Acehnese communi-
ties of Gayo and Alas, with which some Karonese can trace clan and lineage
connections.
135
Tengku Luckman Sinar 1978:188.
136
Tengku Lukman Sinar 1980:8, 10–25 described this “big war in a small village.”
137
Rita Smith Kipp 1990:chap. 2 sets out the circumstances.
138
A preliminary assessment Simon Rae 1991:125–33.
Missionaries also visited the free Karo communities in the highlands from
time to time at this period and were welcomed there, unless they showed an
interest in staying. In 1902 an attempt was made to establish a mission base
in Kabanjahe, in the highlands, at the invitation of a local chief, who in ret-
rospect seems to have been in need of some external backing in a struggle for
power on the highland plateau. An alliance of other Karo leaders resisted and
deposed this chief, and drove the missionaries off the plateau. The colonial
administration took this opportunity to invade the highlands in 1904, osten-
sibly in defence of the deposed chief and the missionaries he was sponsoring
but in fact as part of an Indies-wide campaign, at the end of the Aceh War,
to occupy and pacify all the free territories remaining in the colony.
The Karonese clearly saw the 1904 invasion of the highland plateau as a
military Christianisation of their homeland. In their view it was the Mission
that ‘brought’ the Dutch colonial government to the highlands where, at this
time, the lowland planters had no interest apart from the pacification of the
groups involved in raiding and sabotage. Clearly also it was the Mission that
benefited from the Pax Neerlandica that enabled Kabanjahe and other mission
bases to be developed on the plateau.
The colonial era brought many changes to Karoland. A road, begun in 1906,
extended from the existing lowland terminus to Kabanjahe, and then in two
directions, to Kotacane, in Aceh, and to Pematangsiantar, in Simalungun. This
road effectively broke down the long-standing isolation that had protected the
highland Karonese. Later, with improvements in transportation, it opened an
opportunity for inland Karonese to participate in the expanding economy of
the East Coast of Sumatra.
These developments were to change Karoland forever. Systematic health care
was introduced, inter-village conflict was reduced, and slavery was abolished
by the new regime. At the same time taxes were introduced, the old participa-
tory communal democracy was subordinated to the interests of the colonial
regime and many Karo communities came under the influence of Malay or
Toba Batak populations in the general re-organisation of local government
and administration in what became the Province, and later the Governorship,
of the East Coast of Sumatra.
Caught up in all this, the Karonese felt that the whole of their society was
under threat; their religion, customs, values, culture and their freedom to
organise their own lives. Because of this, Christianity was seen to be intrusive,
the religion of invading foreigners. The activities of the mission in the lowlands
had been tolerated, if largely ignored. After 1904 Christianity was dismissed as
agama Belanda—the religion of the Hollanders, and its Indonesian converts
as Belanda hitam—dark-skinned Hollanders.
The Dutch colonial era in Sumatra ended in March 1942 with the Japanese inva-
sion. The Japanese military administration, for political reasons, favoured what
they called native religions, among which they included Islam. Protestantism
was regarded as being pro-Dutch but was not actively suppressed. Catholicism,
at this time hardly represented at all in Karoland, was more favoured, reflecting
the importance of the Catholic community in Japan. There was no persecution
of Christianity and congregations were given permission to meet although
preaching was forbidden. Churches and individual Christians experienced
considerable restriction during the Japanese occupation. More significantly,
Christians shared the great suffering of the civil population as the Allied
blockade of Sumatra became more and more effective. This was the beginning
of a slow process by which the small Christian population came to be seen
more and more as part of the Karo community, and the Indonesian struggle
for freedom, rather than as part of the European colonial enterprise.
Immediately prior to the Japanese invasion in 1942 the Protestant mission
had established a Karo Synod, and the first two Karonese ministers were
ordained—fifty years after the mission was established. These two men, with a
small group of teacher-evangelists, held the Protestant church together through
the Japanese occupation and the revolutionary struggle that followed Japan’s
surrender in 1945. During this time membership of the Protestant Church
was maintained at about 5,000, new members just replacing natural losses
over this period.
The Indonesian Revolution, launched when news broke of the Japanese sur-
render, was in fact a much more difficult time for the Karo church than the
occupation had been. The Revolution in North Sumatra took the form of an
armed popular uprising against the allied attempt to re-establish the former
colonial regime. Traditional rulers were swept away, private armed factions
emerged alongside the nationalist army, and there were two attempts by the
returning Dutch administration to defeat the Republican forces in North
Sumatra by military action. Many nationalists were convinced that Christians
supported the attempt to restore Dutch rule, and some Christians were mar-
tyred in Karoland, while others died supporting the revolutionary struggle.
It was at this time that the Protestant church was able to assert its post-
missionary Indonesian identity. Karo church leaders openly supported the
Revolution and congregations prayed for its success. But most significantly
Karo Christians shared the armed struggle and the evacuation of large ele-
ments of the civil population from the Dutch occupied territories in Karoland.
In evacuation settlements the small Christian communities were seen to be
an authentic part of Indonesian life, sharing the suffering and the aspirations
of a people seeking freedom to develop their own national identity. They had
no choice at this time but to practise their faith in public. Their attitudes,
values and way of relating to each other and to others were under constant
critical observation.
139
Recorded by Rita Smith Kipp 1996:215–238, at p. 220.
140
Rita Smith Kipp 1996:221–222, notes a mass conversion, of 1,500, in Kabanjahe in
1968.
Karoland rose from 24,150 in 1966 to 31,775 in 1970141 and from this period
a significant and growing number of Karonese came to see Islam as a real,
and attractive, religious option.
By this time also some reactions had set in against the growing Christian
presence in Karoland. In the years since 1950 the Karo Batak Protestant
Church (GBKP) had grown and developed to become the largest and most
effective non-government organisation spanning the whole of Karo society. In
sociological terms GBKP was something new for Karo society, and for GBKP
itself, as neither the church nor the community had experience of operating
Karo-wide voluntary institutions and found that the values of their adat rather
than its precise provisions had to be explored and adapted to meet new chal-
lenges. This was not accomplished without some pain and puzzlement but
under strong elected leadership GBKP, and its leaders came to hold a place
of trust and respect in the wider society.
Reaction to this potential religious monopoly came in several forms. The
development of the Catholic Church, and the quality of its institutions and
programmes, gave disgruntled Karo Christians an alternative, as did the other
Indonesian churches for Karo people who moved in great numbers to the
cities of Sumatra and Java to take advantage of the new opportunities that
came with independence. Outside the Karo homeland significant numbers of
Karonese opted for Indonesian language, ethnically inclusive churches, such
as GPIB, the western section of the old Church of the Indies.
Sectarian and fundamentalist fellowships provided yet another Christian
alternative. Pentecostal Christianity had entered Karoland in 1935, represented
by the Gereja Pantekosta di Indonesia (GPdI),142 which established its first
Sumatran congregation in Kabanjahe in that year. The largest Pentecostal group
in Karoland, GPdI had over 9,000 members in 1986143 but has been joined by
other Pentecostal Churches, each seeking converts between both traditional
Karonese and members of other churches.
The Assembly of the Holy Spirit (Gereja Sidang Rohul Kudus) was established
in Medan in July 1959 by separation from the Assemblies of God (Sidang
Jemaat Allah) and saw its main mission among the Karonese. It grew from 8
members in 1959 to 6,914 members in North Sumatra by 1969.144 A break-away
group, the Victory of Faith Church (Gereja Kemenangan Iman Indonesia-GKII)
was operating among Batak villages in Langkat in the 1970s.145
141
Rita Smith Kipp 1996:221–222.
142
Originally De Pinksterkerk in Nederlands-Indië, registered as a legal body (rechtspersoon) in
1937, it was established by the Bethel Temple in Seattle, USA; Walter Lempp 1976: 290–293.
143
Rita Smith Kipp 1996:204: ‘Christianity, Ethnicity, and Class.’
144
Writer’s observations and interviews in Langkat 1976; Lempp 1976:295–299. There is an
interesting discussion of religious and social features of this church in Kipp 1996:204–214.
145
Writer’s observations, Tanah Seribu, a Langkat village, 1976.
146
Lempp 1976:306.
147
Kipp 1996:211–212.
148
Rae 1994:194–195, 202 from observations in the late 1970s. Compare more recent obser-
vations by Rita Smith Kipp 1996:11. Also Ginting 2003.
people saw Christians sharing their hardships and struggle without any foreign
backing, together with the clear and uncompromising support of the Karo
church for the nationalist cause, and an increasingly open endorsement of
Karo traditional culture (in particular music and dance) had begun to erode
the image of Christianity as a ‘European religion’ by the mid-1950s.
The quality of early Karo church leaders, who came to play an important role
in community leadership during the occupation and the revolution, quickly
established the fact that Christianity now had a Karo face, and that the church
was an organisation genuinely interested in the well being of the whole Karo
community. Similarly, by the 1950s, Christians who had been trained in the
GBKP youth programme began to take roles in local community leadership
and government administration. The Karo Batak Protestant Church was in fact
the first Karo-wide institution established in a society whose largest political
unit had, up to this time, been the urung, or local confederation of villages.
The presbyterial-synodal form of governance in GBKP encouraged lay par-
ticipation and offered a practical training in democratic decision making on
a larger scale than had been experienced before.
Over-stretched, the small church gave a wide-open opportunity for lay
leadership and participation, which attracted and encouraged enterprising
people to its programmes. The title of ‘elder’, and later also of ‘deacon,’ came to
confer social status on those elected to these offices of lay leadership. Also, as
educational opportunities were more eagerly taken up in the 1950s, Christianity
became associated more and more with modern, progressive ideas, and in time
with western science and technology, giving rise to the promotional slogan,
majun agama asang kiniteken sipemena—religion (meaning, in effect, a world
religion) is more progressive than the traditional belief.
Perhaps most significant of all, the Karo church from the outset endorsed
and supported the Karo adat, or customary law, backing it up where appro-
priate with church regulations and sanctions. This was particularly important
with respect to marriage, divorce and inheritance, the proper administration
of which lies at the heart of the Karo social system. Even traditional elope-
ment was given a Christian framework that safeguarded the values of both
religion and adat.
In time also the Protestant church shook off missionary restrictions on the
use of traditional music and dance, which in the traditional community had
religious as well as recreational and cultural functions. This recognition of tra-
ditional music and dance, and the quiet demise of the brass bands introduced
as an alternative by the missionaries, further enabled people to recognise a
Christian community with a Karo identity. There can be no doubt that these
clear endorsements of the ‘Karo way,’ and its appropriateness, even as the
community moved into a new and more progressive world, finally removed
for many the last shadows of doubt as to the suitability of Christianity as a
religious option for Karo people. It is significant that the Karo traditional
orchestra, banned in missionary days, was used for the first time in a church
programme during the 75th anniversary celebrations in 1965. For many this
event represented the opening of a long closed door, and was thus a major fac-
tor in the even more dramatic growth of GBKP in the period 1965–1970.
All that being said, it must also be recognised that the attempted coup in
1965 and the subsequent danger of being denounced as a communist (the
Communist Party having had a very strong following in parts of Karoland in
the early 1960s, when it was a legal entity, even among keen church members)
encouraged many to embrace, at least outwardly, one of the government-
recognised religions. It was probably the adat question, to which the Muslim
community responded more rigidly, that determined the evident preference,
at this time, for Christianity rather than Islam on the part of those choosing
a new religion.
During the Revolution many Karonese people had their first chance to
experience Islam in a positive context. Many of the evacuees from Karoland
found temporary refuge and hospitality in the border territories of Aceh.
Military service brought many others into close association with Muslim
compatriots, and Islam came to be seen not simply as the religion of Malay
and Acehnese neighbours, but as the religion of the leaders of the Revolution
in Java, and indeed of the majority of Indonesia’s population. Karo people also
came in time to distinguish between the role of the Malay ruling élites during
the colonial era and the situation of the ordinary Malay people who were as
much victims of the alliance between foreign capital and the local élites as
the lowland Karonese themselves had been.
This, however, still did not lead to any significant movement toward Islam
among the Karonese. Separatist movements in staunchly Muslim Aceh meant
that the threat of a ‘holy war’ against the ‘pagan’ Karonese was still not entirely
out of the question, and Karonese were aware of the repression of Christians
in Aceh and elsewhere in Indonesia, where regional attempts were made
to impose Islamic law. The sticking point, however, was clearly a perceived
Muslim disregard for Karo adat. Conversion to Islam meant that the believer
came under Muslim law in three areas of life vital to the Karonese: marriage,
divorce and inheritance. The 1958 Congress on Karo Cultural History still
warned of this, seeing it as a threat to Karo society’s freedom to organise its
own life in the way it saw to be most appropriate.
After Independence, both Islam and Christianity came to be seen as world
religions, linking their Indonesian members to worldwide faith communities.
If the Karo preference for Christianity was conditioned more by the adat
question than by any other single factor, Islam itself began to prosper among
the Karonese, when it came to be presented more sympathetically by Karo
people—either evangelists or family members. Then also a better understanding
of the cultural needs of the Karo Muslim communities was developed among
Muslim strategists.
The international role, and growing prestige, of world Islam in the 1970s
and 1980s, as a force able to resist both western capitalist exploitation and
communist domination of the third world, gave the politically astute Karonese
a better understanding of this great world religion. Competition between
Islam and Christianity for the still uncommitted, or secularised, Karonese is
a distinct feature of the religious pluralism of modern Karoland.
Attempts to revive the traditional religion reflect, among other things, the
frustration and disillusionment that followed the collapse of the political par-
ties on which the Karonese had put so much hope after Independence, and
a general dissatisfaction with the outcome of a generation of struggle. Often
the new way no longer held the attraction or promise it had once embodied.
Where the rituals of a new religion had not taken root a spiritual vacuum
developed and in some quarters it was felt that the old way might still offer
a new or better hope. In other quarters dissatisfied Karo church members
turned to more evangelical or sectarian forms of Christianity. Some, particu-
larly in the cities where choice was available, transferred to more evangelical
churches, or became aligned to sectarian and fundamentalist para-church
organisations while remaining in GBKP. After following the latter course for
several decades the Bandung congregation in West Java, which had played an
important role during the rapid evangelisation of the decade following 1965 and
had subsequently been deeply influenced by a revivalist (kebangunan rohani)
spirituality, split with one part leaving to form the Gereja Injili Karo Indonesia
(GIKI, Indonesian Karo Evangelical Church) and another group forming a new
Indonesia-wide denomination, the Gereja Kristen Kudus Indonesia (Christian
Holiness Church of Indonesia), led by a second-career pastor Pdt. Dr Kerani
Ketaren SE until his death in 2006.
In the end Perodak-odak failed to make a lasting impact because Christianity
had developed to a stage where it, and not a protest movement, offered, in
the mind of a clear majority, the best hope for taking hold of the new situ-
ation and creating a better future. Of very great significance is the fact that,
under Karo leadership, the church moved far from the pietist theology of an
earlier time, and emphasised a faith that encouraged enterprise, self-help and
responsibility. It encouraged people to become agents, and not victims, of
social, economic and political change, to move from fatalism to enterprise. The
Diakonia department of GBKP, developed and led by an enterprising business-
man and lay theologian, also played an increasingly important support role for
church members and communities, and the Development Department in the
1990s was establishing enterprises later taken up by the government, such as
mini-hydro generation that had the capacity to supply 2–3 highland villages
and water reticulation projects to provide for both irrigation and household
while its mission fields in Java and Kalimantan were temporarily terminated
in 1928, and some current Methodist congregations in Java were the expan-
sion of those in Sumatra. Nevertheless, we will also glance at its work outside
Sumatra, since it comes from the same Methodist mission.149
The first man who intended to spread Methodism to Indonesia, especially
to Java, was Thomas Coke at the time Indonesia was under the control of the
British government. In 1813 a group of Methodist missionaries left London
for India and Indonesia. Thomas Coke was not destined to reach Java, for on
13 May 1814 he was found dead in his cabin, on the way to Asia, and was
buried at sea in the Indian Ocean. His vision and spirit were implemented by
his companions in India but failed to reach fruition in Indonesia.
It was American Methodists who later brought Methodism to Indonesia. The
Methodist mission from America, working in Singapore and Malaysia since
1885, wanted to expand Methodism to Indonesia. In 1888 W.F. Oldham (later
bishop) visited Java to investigate the possibilities for opening new work there.
Due to the lack of money and workers there was no Methodist activity in Java
until 1905 although in 1892 Dr. Benjamin West, a Methodist missionary of
Penang, who had previously visited Kalimantan in 1890, visited Sumatra and
was well received by both Chinese and Batak.
From the beginning the work of Methodism in Indonesia was scattered
in islands, cities and among many ethnic groups. Java, Kalimantan, Sumatra
and Bangka (a small island near southern Sumatra) were four island fields of
Methodist activities in Indonesia. Jakarta, Medan, Palembang and Pontianak
were the main cities in Indonesia where the Methodist work was centered. The
Chinese, Batak and Sundanese were some of the ethnic groups evangelised
by the Methodist mission.
Rev. John Russell Denyes (1869–1936) was an American Methodist mis-
sionary appointed as a teacher in an Anglo-Chinese School in Singapore, from
1898. There were students from Java in the school who asked Denyes to start
a Methodist school in Java. From that time on Denyes was interested to open
the work of Methodism in Java and before going to America on furlough in
1903 he became greatly burdened for the salvation of the Muslims in Java.
He was greatly impressed by the fact that at that time there were twenty-eight
thousand Muslims who had converted to Christianity in Java. He was told that
if the money could be found he could be sent to begin the work. While in
America he was brought into contact with the young people of the Pittsburgh
Conference. They agreed to raise $ 4,000 a year with the purpose of sending
out missionaries to the foreign field. When they heard from Denyes of the
needs in Java, they decided to place their money there.
149
The following description is mainly contributed by Richard M. Daulay, a Methodist pastor
who currently also serves as the General Secretary of PGI.
150
Pedersen 1970:119; Van den End 2002:208.
From these three doors (Batavia, Medan, Pontianak) it was obvious that at
the beginning the Methodist mission was attracted to work among the Chinese
people who had established themselves in many Indonesian cities throughout
the archipelago. From the very beginning the work was very promising. That
was why, in 1907, the Methodist work in Indonesia was organised as a district
of the Malaysia Annual Conference, and Denyes was appointed its District
Superintendent. In 1908, Solomon Pakianathan was transferred from Medan
to Palembang, South Sumatra, to start another Methodist work in that area.
On 1 May 1908 a Methodist school was started. In 1909 the Methodist mis-
sion began working in Surabaya and in 1911 Mark Freeman, a Methodist
missionary from America, began work in Bangka.
In 1919 all the scattered Methodist work in Indonesia was organised as a
Mission Conference, named the Netherlands Indies Mission Conference. At
that time, there were around 2,000 members, 30 congregations and 14 pastors
(nine missionaries and five local workers). In the same year, a hospital was
inaugurated in Cisarua surrounded by Sundanese villages.
In 1921 the work among the Batak people in the interior of Asahan, Sumatra,
was commenced by appointing Lamsana Lumbantobing in response to a
Macedonian call from Tuan Nagori Manurung, a raja (village chief) who had
written a letter to Bishop Oldham in Singapore eleven years earlier (1909).
This chief asked Bishop Oldham to send a missionary to his village. At that
time there was a Batak pastor (an ex-pastor of the Batak Church initiated by
the RMG), Rev. Lamsana Lumbantobing, who visited Singapore (1908) and
joined the Methodist Church there. He was appointed by Bishop Oldham to
teach at the Jean Hamilton Training School (now Trinity Theological College)
in Singapore, for the Malay department. In answering the letter of the raja,
in 1913 Bishop Oldham sent Lamsana to investigate the situation in Asahan.
Even though the result of the investigation was good, the Methodist Mission
could not fulfil the request of Tuan Nagori because there were not yet enough
workers.
Besides evangelising the Toba Batak in the Pardembanan jungle, Lamsana
also conducted Sunday services for the Christian Bataks who migrated from
Tapanuli to East Sumatra to work as clerks and plantation workers. Most of
them were Christians because of the work of the RMG/Batak Mission. In 1920
the Methodist mission actually pledged not to work among the Bataks for
whom the RMG was doing a large and successful work. This promise became
more and more difficult to keep as the Toba Bataks began to migrate down
from Tapanuli along the coast and requested admission into the Methodist
churches. After some years of tension and misunderstanding, in 1931 the
Methodist mission and RMG made an agreement to resolve the conflict and
to build cooperation. This cooperation was also motivated by a competition
with Muslims who had preceded the work of missions among the pagan Bataks
in Asahan and the whole coastal area.151 In 1925 the work in North Sumatra
became a Mission Conference named North Sumatra Mission Conference,
separated from the Netherlands Indies Mission Conference.
In 1928 the Methodist Mission withdrew from Java and West Kalimantan
and concentrated its work in Sumatra. A number of local congregations
or posts with their physical facilities, including a hospital in Cisarua, were
released to other missions or to the government, or were closed. The mission
and church workers were moved to North Sumatra. The main reason for this
decision was the lack of funds due to the economical depression in America
in the 1920s. Both conferences (the Netherlands Indies Mission Conference
and the North Sumatra Mission Conference) were then merged to become
the Sumatra Mission Conference.
In the 1930s the condition of the Methodist activities in Sumatra was very
uncertain. There were a number of missionaries who went home for leave
and did not return. Contributions from American churches greatly decreased,
and the exchange on the American dollar was very unfavourable. Fortunately,
in that difficult time, two missionaries were added to continue the work in
Sumatra, Ragnar Alm and Egon Ostrom (both were from Sweden) who arrived
in Sumatra in 1930. Ostrom worked among the Chinese people of North
Sumatra and Alm between the Toba Batak.
In 1941, during World War II, all the American missionaries were evacu-
ated. Fortunately both Ostrom and Alm were from a neutral country and were
permitted to stay even though it was very dangerous for them. All white people
were suspected of being enemies during that uncertain political situation and
it is sad to record that Ostrom was killed in December 1945 in Tebing Tinggi,
by a young extremist who suspected him of being an enemy spy. Alm had to
flee for safety. During the war all the responsibilities of the Methodist mis-
sion in Sumatra were shouldered by the national ministers, like Luther and
David Hutabarat (Batak), Yap Un Han (Chinese). Many of the church workers
withdrew, because there were no longer sufficient salaries for pastors, causing
a shortage of workers.
After the war and the ‘revolution era’ of 1945–1949 the congregations and
schools were reactivated. Alm returned after three years on leave and new mis-
sionaries were added in 1950s, transferred from China after it became closed
to foreign missionary work. At that time (1950s) there were great migrations
of the Batak people from Tapanuli to East Sumatra. They were forced to leave
by the poverty in their land and were attracted by plantation land abandoned
by the Dutch. Many new congregations were organised but there were no
workers available. In 1953 Alm opened a training school for Batak Pastors in
151
Pedersen 1970:119–124.
Kisaran, to train four supply pastors to be ordained. In 1956 Alm also opened
a Pastor Training School for Bataks at the same place and the graduates (20
persons) of this school became the leaders of the Batak congregations. The
mission activity among the Chinese also lacked workers so, in 1954, the Chinese
District started a Bible School for Chinese in Medan.
Pedersen noted that during this time there was (once again) considerable
disharmony in the relations between the Methodist Church and the HKBP.152
The Bataks from Tapanuli maintained that all Christian Bataks were originally
from the HKBP and that the HKBP was the only Batak church in Sumatra.
There had been an unwritten agreement that members of HKBP could become
members of the Methodist Batak congregations and the reverse could also
occur. The migration of the Toba Bataks to the Methodist territory along
the coast had also increased the tension between the two churches. This ten-
sion, however, could be settled down by commissioning Rev. Alm to teach at
Nommensen University.
In 1964 the Gereja Methodist Indonesia (GMI, the Methodist Church
of Indonesia) became an autonomous Church. The political confrontation
between Indonesia and Malaysia was the main reason for this action as it was
very difficult at that delicate time for the Methodist Church in Indonesia to be
led by an American Bishop whose headquarters was in Singapore, considered
as enemy by the Indonesian government. Rev. Wismar Panggabean was elected
as the first leader (Chairperson) of the church. The statistics at that time were:
22,000 members, 21 pastors, 5 of whom were missionaries.
But a few months before the recognition of autonomy a group of pastors and
members who were not content to ask for an Enabling Act from the General
Conference, and were burning with the nationalistic fever of Indonesia’s
confrontation with Malaysia and Western imperialism, stepped aside and
formed a new church named Gereja Methodist Merdeka Indonesia (GMMI,
the Indonesian Free Methodist Church). They considered that leadership
had been in the hands of the westerners for too long and reflected a sort of
spiritual imperialism. A split could not be avoided.
In 1964 the GMI expanded its work to Java again after being absent for 25
years. The initiators of this work were the Methodist people who migrated
from Sumatra to Java. At this time the expansion of the GMI in Java and
Bali appeared promising. In 1969, the first General Conference was held in
Medan. The Conference decided that the GMI should have a bishop instead
of a Chairman and Rev. Johannes Gultom was elected to lead the church as
its first bishop. In 1973 he was re-elected for a second four-year term and
during his leadership the organisation of the church was consolidated. The
152
Pedersen 1970:126–128.
Book of Discipline was issued for the first time in 1973. During this period
an ecumenical ministry developed between GMI and GBKP in the lowlands,
particularly in rural development programmes, with some shared overseas
staff.153 In 1977 Rev. Hermanus Sitorus was elected to be the bishop. There
were 33,000 members, 50 pastors and 101 supply pastors at the time.
In 1981 Sitorus was re-elected for a second term. During his period the
GMI promoted its mission and evangelism, especially among the Karo Batak
in North Sumatra. Mass baptisms were conducted several times. Congregations
were also asked to be involved in mission activities. After this eight-year period
the membership numbered around 60,000. Penetration into the highland
homeland of the Karo people gave rise to the same tension as had earlier
occurred with HKBP in Asahan. To GBKP it appeared that proselytism had
taken the place of the earlier ecumenical cooperation.
The General Conference elected Johannes Gultom as the bishop for a third
time in 1985 but unfortunately, after two years, he died. The special session
of the General Conference held in January 1988 elected Rev. Hamonangan
Panggabean was elected as bishop and re-elected in 1989. During his term the
relationship between the Methodist Church in Indonesia and the Methodist
Church in Korea was extended and many church buildings were financed by
the Korean Methodist Church.
At the General Conference in Bogor in 1993, Hermanus Sitorus was elected
as Bishop for the third time. Before he finished his term he died in 1995.
Another special General Conference was held in April 1995 and Rev. Humala
Doloksaribu was elected as bishop. In the General Conference of October
1997 he was re-elected for the period of 1997–2001, and then succeeded by
Rusman Tambunan for the period 2001–2005.
There are now around 80,000 members, 180 pastors, 115 supply pastors,
300 congregations, and 155 mission posts. There are two Annual Conferences
and ten Districts, within the GMI. Around 70% of the members are Batak,
20% are Chinese, and the rest are from various ethnic groups. Since 2003 this
church has had two bishops, one for the North Sumatra Conference and one
for the Java and South Sumatra Conference.
There are two Reformed churches centred in Sumatra, both of them initiated
by Gereja-gereja Kristen Jawa (GKJ; see chapter fourteen), and some other
related churches in Java, in cooperation with Zending der Gereformeerde Kerken
153
Rae 1994:157.
154
This sub-section is mainly excerpted from Lempp 1976:310–314 with some updating.
155
As a Reformed church this Gereformeerd/GKI Sumut church would prefer to send
their aspirants to STT (later Faculty of Theology of the Christian University) Duta Wacana
at Yogyakarta rather than to Fakultas Theologia Universitas Nommensen (then STT HKBP)
Pematangsiantar, although some of the aspirants were Bataks. For the last ten years this church
supported an ecumenical theological school, STT Abdi Sabda in Medan, and sent its aspirants
to study there as well as appointing ministers to become lecturers or members of the board
of trustees.
156
Interview with Rev. Thomas Supardjo, the chairperson of the Synod of GKI Sumut, in
January 2005.
After 1965 this church, too, met accelerated growth due to political events in
Indonesia. Many Javanese who had only been nominal Muslims wanted to
become Christians. That increase lasted only some years. During the 1970s
and 1980s the migration grew tremendously. As a result of this extension,
new groups of Christians sprang up even in the provinces of Jambi and
Bengkulu.
In the reception of the Christian migrants, the Javanese missionaries played
an important role. They may be called the ‘church fathers’ of the GKSBS
and the Rev. J.S. Harjowasito was the pioneer. After his departure to North
Sumatra he was succeeded by the Rev. J. Siswodwidjo who during more than
thirty years was of great importance for the church in Lampung. In 1966 and
1970 Rev. R.S. Poedjosoewito joined him for South Lampung and Rev. Abner
Siswosoewito for North Lampung. They worked in good cooperation with the
ministers of the local congregations. In 1962 Hardjowasito came back to the
south and became a local pastor in the town of Palembang.
Often missionary activities of members of the congregations were reported.
Sometimes a group of Christians arose from the dedication of a teacher who
was the only Christian in his village. The parish of Sumber Rejeki sprang up
because a single woman started a Sunday school in her house. After 1970 the
missionary activities were increasingly dependent on the method of the New
Testament, the spontaneous witness of common believers. Evangelisation as a
directed activity was not allowed from that time. The distribution of Christian
reading material was also forbidden. However, in a Christian health-centre
and in some Christian schools, the gospel was passed to many people.
The motives of people who wanted to become Christian between 1965
and 1968 often were very curious. Some were looking for an escape from
the suspicion of being thought of as communists. Others became Christians
because they disapproved of Muslims being involved in the massacres of com-
munists. Mass conversions were not reported in southern Sumatra, but often
some families opted together for Christianity. After 1968 people came over to
Christianity individually or by families. Many of them had visited Christian
schools in Java and had postponed their conversion until they had left their
family and friends. Others were, in a quite new and strange environment,
attracted by the fellowship they saw in a small group of Christians. Finally
there were some people who for a long time had been in search of spiritual
deepening and rest for their soul. Later the Javanese society became less toler-
ant and every conversion had to rest upon conscious choice.
After the genesis of groups of Christians, as a result of the settlement of
Christian migrants and the communication of the gospel, action was set for
a regular construction of the church. The missionary ministers supported the
groups in becoming established and independent congregations. As part of
their missionary role they tried to develop pastoral and diaconal care of the
157
Data taken from REC’s website: www.recweb.org, accessed on 21 July 2005.
158
In 2002 GKSBS for the first time ordained a woman minister.
The story of the churches in the island of Nias and the surrounding islands,
west of North Sumatra, is no less interesting and complicated than of those
in the big island of Sumatra. Although the current population of Nias and
the surroundings, the Ono Niha, is less than a million and the cultural variety
(adat, language, traditional belief, etc.) is not very remarkable,160 but at the
moment there are at least six different church organisations centred in this
island besides some other churches coming from outside.
Nias (3,980 km2), the biggest among many islands on the west side of
Sumatra, recently became very well known all over the world due to a series of
earthquakes and tsunami on 26 December 2004 and 28 March 2005. Although
Nias and the surrounding islands are located in the Indian Ocean, almost none
of the inhabitants work as sailors. They commonly live as traditional farmers
and this makes them quite isolated, introverted, and less modern compared to
the people in Sumatra. Before the arrival of the westerners, the only contact
with the outside world was due to the slave trade. The Dutch colonial govern-
ment settled only from 1840 and did not complete the annexation until 1902.
When the colonial administration came the slave trade was stopped, but the
traditional social and governmental system was maintained. In the colonial
government system and later in the missionary work Salawa or siulu (village
chief) and tuhenöri (district chief) as well as fondrakö (a gathering to set up
huku-föna, adat law) continued to function.
159
This section is mainly based on Van den End 2002:211–217, Lempp 1976:8–36, and Uwe
Hummel & Tuhony Telaumbanua 2007.
160
Indeed there are some cultural differences between the northern Niasan and the south-
ern (such as in adat, dialect, clothes, house architecture, etc.) and these differences were also
pointed out as reasons to establish a new church in the southern area in the 1990s, but generally
speaking the Ono Niha are more or less homogeneous.
161
Precisely during the earthquake and tsunami season there was an attempt to establish
another new regency, Kabupaten Nias Barat; cf. the reason that motivated the Christians there
to establish ONKP in 1950.
162
This part is a summary of Uwe Hummel 2007—chap. 4:2–5.
163
U.M. Telaumbanua 1993:95.
came to Nias some time after Vallon’s death. He, too, died before he could
begin any missionary work. After this, there were no more attempts by
Roman Catholic missionaries to work on Nias and the Batu Islands until
1939. Unfortunately, there are no records about what happened to catechist
Francisco and his wife Sophie. If they survived and remained on Nias, they,
along with the hypothetically baptised children, could be considered to be the
‘stem-cell’ of the church on Nias.
In 1834 two Protestant missionaries from Boston, Massachusetts, USA,
Samuel Munson and Henry Lyman, came to Nias. The Congregationalist
Mission Society (ABCFM) sent them out. After investigating the eastern
coast, travelling northward from the south, they returned to Sibolga because
they could not get permission from the Dutch authorities to work on Nias.
Subsequently, they entered the Batakland (see above).
It was not until almost thirty years later that another Protestant missionary,
the German Ludwig Ernst Denninger (1815–1876) from the RMG had contacts
with an Ono Niha community, albeit initially in Padang rather than on Nias. In
this town on the western coast of Sumatra numerous Ono Niha were living in
special settlements.164 Many of them had been brought over from Nias as slaves
and were working as servants and unskilled labourers. Most were adherents
of the primal religion of Nias, though some had come under the influence of
Islam, especially those who had attended government schools.
Denninger is called the ‘Father of the Nias Mission.’ From 1848 to 1859, he
had served among the Dayak in Kalimantan, but had then had to flee because
of a revolt against all Europeans. After an interim period on Java, Denninger
and his wife Sophie arrived in Padang on 21 November 1861. Because of
Sophie’s poor health, Denninger settled temporarily in Padang. The longer
he stayed there the more certain he became that a mission post there would
be of strategic importance, both as a bridgehead for Sumatra in general and,
specifically, for taking Christianity to Nias. A Nias Mission, however, would
have to be centred on Nias itself, rather than being treated as a satellite of
the Sumatra mission.
164
According to W. Gulö 1983:6, there were about 3,000 Ono Niha in Padang at that time;
other sources mention 5,000–6,000. The Ono Niha constituted the largest non-Malay community
in Padang in the nineteenth century.
165
Sundermann’s name is perpetuated in the name of a theological college established by
BNKP in 1999.
1914 a delegation of government officials met with the leadership of the Nias-
Conference in Ombölata, in order to discuss a code of law for Christian Ono
Niha. The suggestions of the missionaries were partially taken into account,
so that the resident of Tapanuli could implement a special codex of adat-law
for the Christians of the Nias district, with the exception of the sub-district
of South Nias, in 1915. Though the government effectively strengthened the
status of Christians by implementing this special adat-law, it did not solve the
problem of a ‘dual system’ of values; the spirit of the traditional adat continued
to determine many aspects of everyday life.
To conclude, the years 1890 to 1915 were vital for the expansion of Chris-
tianity amongst the Ono Niha. Whereas at the end of the previous period
there had been merely three viable but struggling stations, all inside the GPA,
in 1915 there were fourteen rapidly growing stations, encompassing 120 filial
congregations, located throughout the island of Nias. Inspired by Warneck’s
vision of the Christianisation of nations and Wegner’s application of the three-
self formula, it had been possible to carry out the strategic idea of the triple
axis, creating a network of missionary stations all over Nias. Missionaries had
followed the rules of the adat in order to gain entrance to strongholds of the
primal religion or to win the sympathy of some chiefs.
The expansion of Christianity on Nias went hand in hand with the expan-
sion of colonial rule and with a new kind of collaboration between the two
in Christian education, in medical services, and in the development of a
Christianised adat. Missionaries openly supported forced labour (rodi) and
called on the colonial authorities for the use of force in order to ‘pacify’ areas
not yet under colonial rule. Despite this dubious synergy between mission
and state, the hearts of the Ono Niha gradually but surely turned towards
Christianity. In the year 1914, when the major powers of the world were slid-
ing into a bloody war, Paramount Chief Barani Dakhi surrendered his adu
and ancestral skulls to the missionary.
The more appreciative missionary view of the corporate identity of the Ono
Niha brought about a greater differentiation between the ‘valuable’ and the
‘useless’ elements of Niasan culture. The vernacular was studied thoroughly
and freed from its ‘heathen’ odour. Efforts were undertaken to ennoble the
adat. But traditional Niasan religiosity was fought more mercilessly than ever.
Cleaning a house of all its adu, or felling a sacred fösi-tree, was celebrated as
a victory of God over Satan.
There was no acknowledgement of the primal religion as a possible vital root
for a Niasan theology. In accordance with the paradigm of the Enlightenment,
it was thought that the primal religion could be eradicated and replaced by
Christianity without destroying the rest of the cultural identity. This proved
to be wrong and actually resulted in ‘cultural vandalism,’ which subsequently
caused a deep spiritual vacuum in the communal psyche of the Ono Niha. In
the midst of this devastation, however, a new national identity, based on the
new law of God (huku Lowalangi), was already beginning to take shape in
some parts of the Niasan population.
In the mean time the missionaries were not so content to see the spiritual
condition of the congregations manifested in the misuse of liquor and drunk-
enness, marriage disorder, reluctance to give offerings, and most importantly
the worshipping of the spirit of the ancestors through adu zatua. As a matter
of fact the majority of the people still rejected the gospel, until a tremendous
and unique revival, the Great Awakening, or mass movement of penance
occurred.166 We will follow Hummel’s description, analysis and conclusion
on this movement that spread over the whole island in several waves from
1915 until 1930.167
This Great Awakening, or ‘the great penance’ (fangesa dödö sebua), was not
only a revival inside Christianity, but also a campaign of a rapidly growing
Christian minority, evangelising a vast majority of adherents of the primal
religion. The symptoms were similar to awakenings elsewhere in the world.
Unique phenomena can be explained largely by socio-political circumstances
and cultural factors. One fundamental experience is existential community
fear. It was a matter of the collective rather than the individual conscience,
and therefore strongly affected the change of communal identity.
The actual movement of the fangesa dödö sebua started at the end of 1915
and continued in different ‘waves’ until 1930. Fries connects the outbreak to
the celebrations of the fiftieth anniversary of the mission in Gunungsitoli in
September 1915. The missionaries and indigenous co-workers had used this
massive celebration for intensive penitential preaching. In Helefanikha, a filial
congregation of Humene, Otto Rudersdorf regretted a lack of awareness of
sin among the members of his congregations, especially in preparation for the
Lord’s Supper. Therefore, he held special services during seven weeks before
Christmas in 1915, both in the church on Sunday afternoons, as well as in
the filial congregations on weekdays. These meetings were frequented by a
growing number of Niasan Christians. On one of these occasions, a Niasan
assistant-teacher by the name of Filemo experienced an unusual awareness
of sin and subsequently a strong conviction that his sins were forgiven by the
crucified Christ. This changed his life convincingly, affecting others.
166
A study on this first revival movement in Th. Müller 1931; and Felix Meier-Hedde
2003.
167
Hummel and Telaumbanua 2007:154–170.
In March and April of the same year there were numerous conversions in
Humene. Through the preaching of born-again sinenge and some elders, the
awakening rapidly spread to other villages in the vicinity. At the seminary in
Ombölata, the atmosphere was sceptical. This changed after Niasan seminar-
ians visited Humene and were, themselves, touched by the awakening. They
henceforth joined in as its agents.
From Humene the awakening spread southwards to Sogae Adu and west-
wards to Sifaoro’asi and as far as the Hinako Islands. In the absence of the
missionary, the awakening in Sogae Adu took on an eschatological character.
The doomsday atmosphere caused some to destroy their property or to com-
mit suicide. Some women stood up as charismatic leaders, one as a prophetess
and another as the incarnation of the Holy Spirit.
Eventually, the enthusiasts of Sogae Adu carried the awakening westwards
to the mission station Sifaoro’asi, wanting to convert the German mission-
ary Skubinna there. In Holi, one of the filial congregations of Sifaoro’asi, the
awakening took on tumultuous and violent dimensions. Skubinna managed to
suppress the movement, putting a number of its leaders in hospital and sending
the ‘pseudo-Christ’ to missionary Fries in Ombölata. On the following Sunday
the enthusiasts had to appear in front of the congregation in the church of
Sifaoro’asi, confessing their heresy and their spiritual arrogance. Henceforth,
the Ono Niha of Sifaoro’asi shut themselves off from the awakening.
Missionary Ludwig Borutta took a similarly repressive attitude towards
the enthusiasts in Lölöwua. A guru from the mission school, who followed a
prophetess from Humene, evangelising together with a large group of young
women in this area, was threatened by the missionary with expulsion from his
teaching post and subsequent forced labour (rodi). This not only intimidated
the guru, but also hampered the spread of the awakening in this area.
By 1917 the initial élan of the movement had calmed down somewhat,
but it did not stop. It moved beyond Humene and Ombölata to Gunungsitoli
where first signs were registered in 1918 and where it reached its peak a few
months later, in several prayer groups (sekola wangandrö). Pandita Josefo,
who served in Gunungsitoli at the time, at first received a big fright (ahölihöli
dödö), but then judged these outbursts of enthusiasm to be the work of the
Holy Spirit. Around this time (1917–1918) the Great Awakening also reached
Hilimaziaya in the north. Even in the south, in Niha Raya, there were numer-
ous conversions.
In 1922 the Great Awakening flared up again in full power, this time start-
ing in Gunungsitoli. It strengthened Christianity in Hilimaziaya and reached
out as far north as Lahewa. Also Sifaoro’asi and Lölöwua succumbed to the
strength of the awakening. Many, who were suspicious in 1916, were now
touched by it. This time the constructive influence of the Pandita was felt,
besides the continuing strong witness of the Sinenge and some women. In
1923 Niasan evangelists reached Börö Nadu Sifalagö Gomo, an ancient centre
of the primal religion in southern Nias. In 1927 missionary Nol baptised the
145 ‘firstfruits’ and in 1929 the remaining 119 inhabitants of this place of
descent of the ancestor Hija.
Unfortunately, 1922 was a troublesome year for the people of southern
Nias, including the missionaries. An epidemic claimed many lives. But it was
not this hardship that hampered the spread of the awakening in some areas,
and caused a number of villages to return to the primal religion or fall into
religious indifference. A serious obstacle to the spread of Christianity was
also the uncompromising attitude of certain missionaries, who rejected the
customary law (hada or adat). This was unacceptable to the proud rulers.
After 1925 the strength of the Great Awakening decreased continuously,
and even faded away. By 1930, however, Christianity had become the strongest
religion amongst the Ono Niha and the primal religion almost disappeared
from public life. The number of Christians more than quadrupled during this
period.168 A point of mature saturation was reached.
Besides the mainstream, however, the 1930s also brought some remarkable
outbursts of religious enthusiasm, especially in Sogae Adu. These were inci-
dental and limited in character. According to the Synod of the BNKP, these
minor awakenings were different in nature to the Great Awakening, since
they included a resurgence of pre-Christian magic (ilmu sihir) and resulted
in schisms.169 Phenomena like trance, glossolalia (li bö’ö) and healing, prac-
ticed by ‘Masters of Awakening’ (tukang fangesa dödö), were prominent in
the minor awakenings, including the so-called ‘jumping awakenings’ ( fangesa
dödö solaya) in the 1950s.
Much has been written about the causes of the awakening. Although it
has been stated time and time again that this awakening was the work of the
Holy Spirit, it also needs to be said that a number of cultural, political and
economic factors determined the condition in which this awakening broke
out and developed. Three more general factors (psychological strain, change of
social order and communal ties) and four more ecclesiastical ones (the jubilee
mass rally in 1915, the religious vacuum, identification with Christianity and
contextualisation of the message) have to be distinguished. Also concern-
ing the lasting value of the Great Awakening, or the so-called ‘fruits of the
Awakening’, we can see in at least eight points the significance of the Great
Awakening for the transformation of Niasan culture and society at large: the
168
1914: 17,795 baptised Christians, 9,000 catechumens, 120 congregations; 1922: ca. 52,000
baptised Christians (alternative counting: 49,877), 30,000 catechumens; 1926: 65,000 baptised
Christians, 23,000 catechumens; 1929/30: ca. 84,000 baptised Christians, ca. 13,300 catechumens,
164 congregations. These statistics do not include the Batu Islands.
169
For example: the Community Movement or Fa’awösa (see below).
170
Van den End 2002:214.
171
Quoted in Van den End 2002:214.
On 31 December 1929 the financial support by the Dutch government for the
work of the RMG on Sumatra and Nias, granted during the years of heavy
inflation in Germany after World War I, was terminated. The colonial govern-
ment implemented a policy of austerity in subsidising mission schools. On
top of this, the World Economic Crisis, as well as the strict foreign exchange
restrictions enforced by the Nazis since 1933, caused the worst malaise ever
in the history of the RMG (see above).
The financial malaise and the extinction of the fire of the Great Awakening
moved the missionaries to take concrete steps towards ecclesiastical inde-
pendence or self-reliance. In 1936 they finished drafting a church order. The
‘autonomy’ of the Niasan church was formally decided by the first synod of the
Banua Niha Keriso Protestan (BNKP, the Nias Christian Protestant Church) in
November 1936 and the draft of the church order was accepted. Gunungsitoli
was also decided on as headquarters. But European missionaries still occupied
the top positions in the leadership. The synod also accepted the desire of the
board of RMG in Barmen, Germany, to appoint all European missionaries as
full participants in the assembly. But on the other hand the missionaries refused
the aspiration of the Niasan Christians that every church-district could send
a social leader (a tribal chief) as a full member of the synod assembly.
In May 1940, the Dutch detained the German missionaries and the leader-
ship was handed over to Niasan office bearers. But soon Dutch missionaries,
working under the auspices of the Batak Nias Zending (BNZ), were transferred
to Nias and, in practice, claimed the lead in certain areas of church work.
The Japanese occupation of Nias and the Batu Islands (1942–1945) was a
serious test for the very existence of the BNKP. The Imperial Army of Nippon
invaded Nias on 17 April 1942 from Sibolga, and the occupation lasted until
15 August 1945. Around Easter 1942 all Dutch men on Nias were interned
and three weeks later all women and children were put into a number of
camps on Sumatra. The office of ephorus was taken over by a Nias pastor,
Atöföna Harefa.
At first, the Ono Niha received the Japanese as liberators, but this enthu-
siasm soon changed because of the suffering under the fascist regime, which
reached right down to village level. Many Niasan young men were compelled
to enter the Japanese army, the people were forced to dig trenches and supply
food. Women were raped. There was horrible torture and hunger. Though
religion was not prohibited, many churches were desecrated by using them
as storehouses. The three-and-a-half years of Japanese occupation was ‘hell’
for most inhabitants of Nias. Only a few traders of Chinese origin used the
opportunity for lucrative business with Singapore. It is remarkable that Niasan
Christianity did not wither away under such extreme hardship.
Only during the struggle for National Independence (1945–1949), after the
Japanese had left, did the BNKP start functioning as an independent church.
By 1950, the BNKP had become an established, independent entity, though
far from being self-reliant. Only in 1951 did German missionary-physicians,
Thomsen and his wife, come again to serve in Nias, followed by two theolo-
gians, Schneider and Dörmann, and two deaconesses, Blindow and Jung in
1952. Their functions were different from those of missionaries before the
war. In the post-colonial situation they no longer had a leadership position,
but would serve as ‘advisors’ (penasehat) to the BNKP.
The year 1950 marked the beginning of a ‘New Era’ (1950–1965) for the
church on Nias and to the period of 1950–1965 belonged the ‘coming-of-
age’ experiences of a maturing church. Several new perspectives concerning
ecumenical cooperation opened up, while at the same time a major schism
occurred in the Western area (ONKP), the Roman Catholic counter mission,
and enthusiastic movements challenged the BNKP. A very fortunate happen-
ing for the Christians on Nias and the Batu Islands was the merger of the
BKP with the BNKP in 1960 (see below). This was followed by a number
of important synods revising the church order and preparing for the 100th
anniversary of the BNKP in 1965.
The reconstruction of the history of the Niasan church in this period ends
with the ‘jubilee’ on 26–27 September 1965. This feast, the biggest ever so far
celebrated on Nias, was immediately followed by the greatest national disaster
in the history of the Republic of Indonesia: the so-called communist coup
attempt on 30 September 1965. Here begins a new period in Indonesian his-
tory, and with it also of the churches, including the BNKP.
After a brief review of the development of the Nias churches up to 1965, we
need to take into account special phenomena regarding the new revival and
the schism. After the revival of 1916 onwards the revival movement calmed
down, but a longing for repeating the tremendous experience never disap-
peared. In the 1930s and 1940s, a series of similar movements rose up again,
especially during the period of great suffering during World War II. But now
the focus of the movements, instead of forgiveness of sin, was Spirit blessings
(charismata), including miracles. The glossolalia (speaking in tongues) came up
and during the worship certain persons started to tremble or shout in ecstasy.
Instead of strengthening the community of the church these movements tore it
apart creating schism. While the first wave of the movement made the BNKP
a Volkskirche (folk church), the following movements broke up the church’s
unity in this island.
In 1933 the Fa’awösa (fellowship) movement started to split from the Nias
Mission church (later BNKP), because the adherents found that they had to
obey the voice directed received from the Holy Spirit more than the church
regulations. After releasing themselves from the mother church, the various
172
In the late 1990s this church, with around 32,000 members, was accepted as a member
of PGI.
173
The location of the tsunami in Nias on 26 December 2004 is Sirombu, Mandrehe and
the surroundings. The people and the ONKP ministers felt that the international and domes-
tic aid designated for them was not fully handed to them, some amount being withheld in
Gunungsitoli.
We also need to give space to the competition and conflict between BNKP
and the Roman Catholic Church. After the unsuccessful missionary attempts
174
One of the very famous traditional arts of Nias is stone jumping, to jump over a 2.3m
high pile of stones. The location is Bawömataluö and the picture of this action was reproduced
on the Indonesian Rp. 1,000 banknote some years ago.
in the first half of the nineteenth century, the Roman Catholic Church did
not send any missionaries to Nias until 1939. The initiative for a new start
was taken by four Ono Niha from Lölöwua, who were not satisfied with
the church discipline of the BNKP. Since 1936 they wrote letters to Roman
Catholic leaders in Sumatra, inviting them to come to Nias. On 13 December
1937 the Sibolga based priest Chrysologus Timmermans paid a visit to Nias,
contacting European and Chinese Roman Catholic families in Gunungsitoli.
He also called on Lölöwua, staying for one hour, reportedly making quite an
impression on the local population. The colonial authorities frowned on this
visit to the interior for fear of ‘dual mission.’ However, for two reasons, Roman
Catholic missionary activities were not prohibited: (1) There was no Islamic
majority, which could cause a stir-up in the face of another Christian mission;
(2) An influential Ono Niha collected signatures for obtaining the permission
for the Roman Catholic Church to operate.
Subsequently a Dutch Capuchin, Burchardus van der Weijden, arrived on
Nias in 1939. In 1940 Van der Weijden secured support from another Dutch
Capuchin, Ildefonsus van Straalen. In the training-courses they offered to
Ono Niha the instruction material was polarising, emphasising differences
with Protestantism (the Protestants did likewise). The Catholics presented
themselves as the one, true and undivided church, cleverly exploiting the fact
that a number of divisions had occurred in the body of the BNKP.
The Japanese detained the Dutch Capuchins during World War II. At that
time, about 300 Ono Niha had been baptised in the Catholic mission and
another 1,500 to 2,000 were preparing for baptism as catechumen. During the
following eight years, there was no Roman Catholic priest on Nias and the Batu
Islands. But the catechists and lectors, supported by some chiefs and wealthy
Chinese, formed a simple organisation and kept on spreading the Roman
Catholic creed, influencing many of their compatriots. Even at this early stage,
Roman Catholicism was a challenge to the BNKP. Three Dutch Capuchins
returned in 1950/1951 and their ranks were strengthened in 1952/1953 by
six German Capuchins from Tienshui (Kansu, China), who had fled from the
communists. Among them was Bishop Gratian Grimm.
Since 1955, there had been increasing Roman Catholic activities on the Batu
Islands. By now, the BNKP and the European Protestant missionaries saw the
Roman Catholic mission on Nias and the Batu Islands as a major offensive
or all-out attack. But whether this was indeed a ‘counter-mission’ has been
much disputed. Father Silvester Braun argued that the Roman Catholic mis-
sion did not harm the work in the ‘Lord’s vineyard’ on Nias, since it led the
BNKP to ‘self-contemplation.’ Most of the Christians who entered the Roman
Catholic Church were said to have come from the Community Movement
( fa’awösa), but the reality was much less fraternal. There was tough competi-
tion between the two branches of Christianity. Since both the RMG and the
Roman Catholic mission relied heavily on German personnel this was quite
confusing for many Ono Niha.
In the eyes of Ono Niha, Roman Catholicism seemed to be an easier religion
(agama saoha) than Protestantism. The church contributions (ame’ela) were
much lower and there was no prohibition on images (adu). The much richer
use of symbolism was impressive.
A major bone of contention was the issue of ‘rebaptism’ or ‘conditional
baptism.’ Protestants were furious when they heard that the Roman Catholic
Church re-baptised former members of the BNKP and the BKP. The BNKP
countered by calling the baptism of the Roman Catholic Church invalid,
against the advice of the missionaries. Both sides in fact practised ‘rebaptism,’
described as baptism ‘under the condition,’ without a strong theological basis.
The Roman Catholic Church—in principle acknowledging the baptism of
non-Roman Catholic Christians—argued that Protestant pastors use too little
water, hardly moistening the forehead. This could not be regarded as ‘rite’ in
a Roman Catholic sense.
While the question of the use of more or less water can never be an accept-
able argument for Protestants to justify rebaptism, the actual use of very
little water by many Protestant pastors until today is indeed an unnecessary
nuisance. There is enough water on Nias and holy baptism looses some of its
symbolic power if the congregation can hardly see the water. It seems likely
that this praxis is a result of unintended enculturation. Baptism as administered
by many Protestant pastors resembles the traditional blessing of a dying father,
for which also only a few drops are spattered on the receiver.
Despite the disturbances brought about by Roman Catholic mission, its
remarkable evangelising efforts may not be underestimated. Especially in the
field of conserving the traditional culture of the Ono Niha and integrating it
into liturgy, architecture and art, the Roman Catholic Church has been more
progressive than her Protestant counterparts, even before the Second Vatican
Council (1962–1965). Lately, suspicions between the two Christian denomina-
tions have become less and good cooperation is increasing.
In the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries the Protestant missionaries
L.E. Denninger and H. Sundermann studied the language of Nias. It was a
German Capuchin Friar, Johannes Hämmerle (b. 1941; since 1971 in Nias)
who continued this work with publications in Indonesian and German.
Different from his predecessors, Hämmerle’s informants were all Christians;
many of them were even catechists or teachers. They sometimes brought texts
to him that was typewritten by themselves. But these were ancient texts in
the sacral style of the archipelago: in the tradition of ‘speaking in pairs’ that
is also characteristic for the language of the Psalms and the Edda. As in the
Edda, a work of the pre-Christian North-European culture, but written down
in Christian times, also in the texts that were collected by Hämmerle we can
175
Hämmerle 1999:48.
176
This part is mainly based on Uwe Hummel 2002 and Hummel & Telaumbanua 2007:132–
153 and 172–179.
177
The complete name is Het Nederlandsch Luthersch Genootschap voor In- en Uitwendige
Zending, founded at Amsterdam on 5 April 1852. Hummel 2002:13.
In some ways incongruous to the developments on Nias, there was also the
gradual formation of an independent Batu church. The process started after
the arrival of a new generation of missionaries in 1919, but did not lead to
an autonomous church such as on Nias. The transfer of the only remaining
missionary from Pulau Tello to Gunungsitoli in July 1940 cut down mis-
sionary work to a minimum and the Japanese occupation in August 1942
stopped it completely. An independent Batoesche Synode or Batu church was
only proclaimed in 1945. On 11 August 1945, one day after the Japanese
troops left the Batu archipelago, an autonomous church was inaugurated and
named Banua Keriso Protestan (BKP the Batu Christian Protestant Church).
The chairperson (voorzitter) was an autochthonous pastor, Kana Wa’ambö, a
graduate from Ombölata Seminary in Nias. In 1948 the ties with the DLM
were finally cut.
After the termination of the work of the DLM on the Batu Islands, the
responsibility had, supposedly, been handed over to the RMG, in October
1948. Since the capacities of the RMG were limited, and work on Nias had
only recommenced in the 1950s, the devastating situation of the BKP drew
the attention of some international ecumenical organisations.
On 2–10 August 1957, the Church World Mission (CWM) met at Staten
Island, New York and a decision was reached that CWM would request a
deputation, consisting of representatives from the HKBP, the LWF and the
RMG, to pay an official visit to the BKP. The LWF was willing to help the BKP
where it was really necessary. With the HKBP and the BNKP there was no
official relationship, although delegates of the BKP had attended Synod meet-
ings of the BNKP twice since World War II, and four sinenge of the BKP had
been trained at the seminary in Ombölata. A problem was that the BKP was
not legally recognised, so that there was a real danger that church properties
might be confiscated by the state. Both HKBP and BNKP were willing to help
their small neighbour.
Due to the political situation in Sumatra during the PRRI rebellion, it
was impossible for the commission proposed by the CWM to visit the BKP
before July 1959. The delegation that finally made the visit consisted of A.A.
Sitompul (HKBP), Dana Telaumbanua (BNKP) and Gerhard O. Reitz (LWF).
Upon arrival on Pulau Tello they were heartily welcomed by Pandita Kana
Wa’ambö and other leaders of the BKP. Some BKP leaders desired to affiliate
with any one of the larger churches already recognised by the government
(i.e. BNKP or HKBP), but other elements did not want to be incorporated
into a much bigger organisation. They feared that they might not be able to
maintain a certain degree of self-determination.
The option to affiliate with the HKBP was kept open for some time. The
advantage of joining this Batak church was that the BKP would automatically
become a member of the LWF, which was in accordance with its confessional
(Lutheran) status. Alternately, joining the BNKP had clear cultural advantages.
The Batu Islands had much greater similarities in language and customary law
to Nias than to the Bataklands. Furthermore, the Batu Islands had become
part of the regency (kabupaten) of Nias since Indonesian independence. These
cultural and political considerations eventually tipped the scales in favour of
the BNKP.
The prospect of unification between BKP and BNKP was favourably dis-
cussed during the twenty-fourth Synod of the BNKP on 14–18 May 1959 in
Teluk Dalam. Subsequently the annual Synod of the BKP, held in August 1959
on Pulau Tello, decided to unite. At the following meeting between the Synod
Board of the BNKP and a delegation of the BKP in Gunungsitoli, it was agreed
that the church on the Batu Islands should become a special church circuit
(ressort istimewa) of the BNKP. The merger of the BKP with the BNKP was
decided by the twenty-fifth Synod of the BNKP, on 3 June 1960 in Ombölata.
The Batu Islands thus became the thirteenth church circuit of the BNKP.
It is remarkable that in the merger of the BKP with the BNKP the choice
for unification was made on cultural rather than denominational grounds.
While the Batunese congregations show distinctly Lutheran traits, especially
in liturgical matters, the sense of communion is determined by ethno-cultural
relations. Similar language and customary law, and especially family links
between Nias and the Batu Islands, by far outweigh ecclesiastical tradition.
Mentawai archipelago (totalling 3,135 km2), located off the west coast of West
Sumatra or Minangkabau, consists of a number of large and small islands.
Four of the largest are Siberut, Sipora, Sikakap (North Pagai) and South Pagai.
Although divided into several tribes that are ethnically of Malay-Polynesian
background, the people have sufficient similarity of language, adat, and ethnic
religion to be recognised as an ethnic group, called Mentawai. Their primal
religion was Sabulungan and centred on a belief in evil spirits. In the govern-
ment administration since the colonial era, up to the year 2000, this archipelago
was part of the Padang-Pariaman regency, in West Sumatra province. Therefore
in previous times we may find many Muslim traders and government officers.
Since 2001 this archipelago has been a separate regency and the regent (bupati)
is a pastor of Gereja Kristen Protestan Mentawai (GKPM, Mentawai Christian
Protestant Church), Rev. Edison Saleleubaja.
178
This sub-section is mainly based on ENI 1918-II: 706–711, s.v. “Mentawai-Eilanden”, and
Herman Sihombing 1979:94–124.
Western traders or colonists had already visited this archipelago since the
seventeenth century, but only in 1825 did the Dutch-Indies government reg-
ister it as part of the West Sumatra province. In 1893, the first colonial officer
was nominated. The RMG began its work in this archipelago in 1901 with the
arrival of the missionary August Lett, who formerly worked in Batakland and
Nias. He settled at Nemnemleleu, Sikakap that up to the present remains the
headquarters of the Mentawai church. The trigger for missionary work there
was quite unique. Slightly before 1900 the director of the RMG in Barmen
received a letter together with a spear from the Dutch harbour-master of
Padang, saying, “With this spear the Mentawainese had killed a crew member
of a trading ship. All inhabitants of the islands are still heathen and savage.
How long will it take until they hear the gospel?”
Lett worked with full energy and dedication, honoured and loved by most of
the people of Mentawai, and many times was asked by the colonial officers to
mediate. He also succeeded in building cooperation with the tribal chiefs such
as Djago Mandi Samaloisa, who was later baptised, and appointed as demang
(district head) by the colonial government. Unfortunately Lett was killed on
20 August 1909 while mediating in an impending war between Dutch troops
and certain Mentawainese.179 His work was continued by the missionaries who
followed as well as by a number of Batak ministers (pastors and teachers) sent
by the Batak Mission.
During World War II this embryonic church of Mentawai, like the other
churches, suffered very much, especially in leadership and pastoral ministry.
After the internment of the German missionaries in 1940, followed by the
Dutch ministers sent by BNZ and some Batak evangelist-pastors in 1942,
only since 1945 this church was led by Mentawai pastors, among others Ph.
Saleleubaja and Agustinus Samaloisa.
On 23 August 1951 this church was officially established and named Paamian
Kristen Protestan Mentawai (PKPM, after 1968 as GKPM), with a bestuur
(executive committee) led by Rev. Ph. Saleleubaja. This date was decided upon
as the birthday of the church. Three months later PKPM signed an agreement
of cooperation with HKBP. This agreement was followed up, among other
things by the establishment of HKBP Mission Representative in 1954, to help
PKPM. Since then the RMG also renewed its presence and help by sending
a number of missionaries, physicians, nurses and engineers, to construct a
hospital, polyclinics, schools and some other facilities to enhance the quality
179
According to Sihombing 1979:96–97, there was a miscommunication that triggered the
anger of the people on an island of Talu’ Pulai. Lett addressed them by saying tatogakku le kam,
meaning: “you are my children,” a phrase properly used only by the biological parents. Besides
that, Lett’s appeal also contained some threatening words, that the people and their village would
be demolished if they conducted a war against the Dutch colonial government.
of life of the people. Among the meaningful works of the RMG and HKBP in
Mentawai, that were later maintained by the PKPM/GKPM, were the establish-
ing of a number of elementary, secondary, girls’ and teacher training schools,
as well as ecclesiastical trainings to provide evangelists and bijbel-vrouw.
One of the challenges faced by PKPM was the primal religion Sabulungan
and the aggressive activities of Islamic propagation (dakwah). The Muslim
activities intensified in 1945–1950 when Elieser, one of the native pastors,
together with his extended family, embraced Islam. They enthusiastically
approached the Sabulungan as well as the Christian communities and suc-
ceeded in getting around 500 converts in Siberut, followed by some hundreds
in the other islands. The regional government of West Sumatra, understand-
ably, supported this effort. But some of the new converts later returned to
Sabulungan or to Christianity, because they found it difficult to learn Arab,
and because pork is a customary meal for the Mentawainese.
To minimise the conflict between Christian and Muslim communities, and
according to the policy of the government to end the so-called ‘heathenism,’
in 1953–1954 several Rapat Tiga Agama (Religious Tripartite Meetings) of
Christian, Muslim and Sabulungan adherents were held. The Sabulungan com-
munity was appealed to (some of them felt they were being forced to) leave
their ancestral religion and to freely choose either Christianity or Islam. By
this policy, in 1955 there was formally no longer a Sabulungan community
and the number of Christians as well as Muslims significantly increased.
The second challenge came from the Roman Catholic mission that intensified
its activities since 1954. The missionaries made southern Siberut, particularly
the town of Muara Siberut, their centre. In this town, and later extended to
some other places, they built churches, schools and polyclinics and accord-
ing to Herman Sihombing180 the locations are close to those provided by
RMG/PKPM, offering a better quality accompanied by various gifts. It is little
wonder then that after about ten years they gained around 2,250 followers
from among a population of around 25,000, many of them coming from the
Protestant or PKPM community.
Concerning the presence of the Roman Catholic mission, Tonino Caisutti
relates that the Catholic Church had already paid attention to Mentawai
since the 1910s as can be seen in the Liber Status Animarum, at the cathedral
of Padang. In 1917 Capuchin Friar Donatus visited Mentawai and in 1937
another priest was here for some time. In November 1953 missionary Aurelio
Canniszaro started a mission to Mentawai and visited some big islands. In 1954
Canniszaro settled at Pokai, northern Siberut, where there was no Christian
yet. Later he moved to southern Siberut, where there were also not yet many
180
Herman Sihombing 1979:121.
Christians. “The Protestant centres like Nemnemleleu, Pagai islands and Sipora
were by a priori put aside by the Catholic mission that came to Mentawai
just to proclaim the gospel to people who were not counted in the four big
religions. It was the southern islands Mentawainese that took the initiative to
call Xaverian priests. . . . The missionaries did not have the courage to refuse
the repeated and urgent call.”181
At Christmas 1954 the first Catholic church building was already finished.
Afterwards came some other pastors and nuns, accompanied by native
Mentawai, among them Hermanus Saleleubaja. The membership statistics
of 1980 were as follows: northern Siberut 4,347; and southern Siberut 6,988;
total 11,335. The Catholic mission—like anywhere—was also doing cultural
evangelism that is also called indigenisation, after a sufficient research on
many good elements in the Mentawai culture.
Another challenge was presented since 1955 by the Bahai religion, a syn-
cretistic religion originating from Iran with Baha’ullah as its prophet. Bahai
tried to combine Islam, Christianity, Judaism, Zoroastrianism and some other
religions. This religion, formally registered and recognised by the Indonesian
government as one of the branches of Islam, focused on the Sabulungan. The
leader in Mentawai was Muhadji Rachmatullah, accompanied by Astani in
Padang; both of them were government-appointed physicians. In Siberut the
Bahai succeeded in getting around 2,500 followers. Since this religion was
led by a rich dynasty, the workers were remunerated properly and they had
ample funds to spend in Mentawai. On the one hand the Bahai did many good
things for the Sabulungan community in the remote and backward areas, more
effectively than could be done by the Christian churches. On the other hand
its syncretistic character became a serious challenge for the churches that also
strove to win the Sabulungan.
In 1968 the PKPM changed its name to Gereja Kristen Protestan Mentawai
(GKPM), which was inaugurated as an autonomous and self-reliant church.
Oppressed from the Muslim side and having rivalry with the Catholic mis-
sion and church, GKPM grew steadfastly and embraced around 75% of the
population with around 25,000 members. Like the many other churches,
GKPM also experienced an internal conflict and at a certain time was divided
by two leaders: M. Tatubeket and A.P. Saleleubaja. Since 2002 the ephorus of
GKPM has been Rev. P. Simanjuntak, a Batak (with a Mentawai mother) born
in Mentawai as the son of a HKBP evangelist pastor.
Mentawai archipelago actually has very rich natural resources. The forest
has a lot of precious woods such as aloe wood (Aquilaria malaccensis) that
181
Tonino Caisutti, “Kedudukan dan Peranan Umat Katolik dalam Pembangunan Masyarakat
di Siberut” (The Position and Role of the Catholics in the Community Development at Siberut),
Paper on a Symposium on Socio-Economic-Cultural Development, 23–25 March 1981.
Sumatra is home to about 20% of the Indonesian population, but to only 15%
of Indonesian Catholics. Like the island of Java, Sumatra is therefore under-
represented in the Catholic community. Moreover, the Catholics in the island
are geographically and ethnically very divided, as is clear from the statistics
covering the six dioceses, for the year 2000:182
These diverse groups have their own history, cultural and ecclesiastical identity.
In the areas with the highest number of Catholics, the Protestant mission had
harvested first. In the most populous province of Medan (North Sumatra)
182
We follow the official figures from the Vatican in the website www.Catholic-hierarchy
.org. See also Suryadinata 2003:115 for the census of 2000. The figures in Rosariyanto 2000:168
are slightly different, but there are no substantial changes there.
183
Heidhues 1992:164.
184
Letter published by Kleijntjens 1932:6–7. Benzie has a reference to the problems of Bishop
Jacobus Grooff and therefore we may suppose that this letter is from the period shortly after
Grooff left Batavia on 3 February 1846.
1818, in the colony since 13 February 1848) visited Bangka. He was warmly
welcomed by a small flock of Catholics, and baptised eleven people. One of
his Chinese guides in the island, who suggested to other candidates that they
should throw away all heathen images and inscriptions, was beaten and pushed
into a ditch by Chinese who wanted to defend their cultural and religious
tradition. The incident was reported to the Resident F. van Olden and entered
the general report of the colony (Koloniaal Verslag) of that year. This false start
in Bangka was another setback for the leaders of the Catholic mission who
had a vivid memory of the problems in the mid-1840s when Bishop J. Grooff
and three priests were sent back to Europe and finally no priest was left in
the whole colony, due to a conflict with the colonial government. Therefore
a second visit of Claessens only took place in 1851. From 1853–1867 there
was a resident priest in Sungaiselan, Jan Langenhoff who had learned some
Chinese in Penang before starting work in Bangka. It was the first Catholic
mission post for non-European Catholics in the new missionary initiative
of the nineteenth century. Tsen On Njie gladly received the priest, was later
formally appointed a member of the parish council, and with new fervour
continued to seek new converts.
The flock remained small. Statistics for 1867 mention 379 baptised, of which
268 were men. This also indicated the status of the congregation: the major-
ity were men who stayed only for a few years and then returned to China.
It was a company of poor people with low status, both in their country of
origin and in the Indies. Langenhoff returned in 1867 to Europe. In 1871,
shortly before his successor arrived (the Jesuit J. de Vries), Tsen On Njie had
died. No new charismatic and spirited leader for the Chinese flock of Bangka
emerged and the station became, until 1876, the centre for pastoral visits in
the region between West Kalimantan and East Sumatra. There had been some
dreams around 1860 of Bangka becoming the centre of the Catholic mission
in Western Indonesia, as Larantuka was for Eastern Indonesia, but this was
never fulfilled. The number of baptised Chinese remained small and always
unstable because of people going back to China.
In 1911 the station was included in the Capuchin mission of Sumatra. In 1924
it was entrusted to a new religious order, the Sacred Hearts Fathers (SSCC) who
came accompanied by extensive personnel, making it the most clerical mission
in the 1930s. In 1939 there were 484 European and 853 Chinese Catholics in
the Prefecture of Pangkalpinang (among them about 200 ex-miners who stayed
in a home for the aged). These 1,337 Catholics were served by 21 priests (i.e.
one priest for 64 faithful), 17 lay brothers and 23 sisters. The Catholic schools
had to compete with the THHK schools of the Confucian Chinese movement
that had much support among the Chinese community. Among the priests
was the first Chinese diocesan priest for the whole of Indonesia. Jan Boen
Thiam Kiat (born in 1908, in the 1960s renamed Mario John Bunyanto). He
had attended the mission school where he converted. He was baptised at the
age of 14 and received private Latin classes between 1927 and 1929. Thereafter
he went for the study of theology to Penang and later to Hongkong. He was
ordained a priest in 1935 in Pangkalpinang. He was a modest and liberal
priest, known for his generosity to the poor. He served the diocese until his
death 31 May 1982.185
In the 1950s and later the Catholic mission in Bangka and related islands
became more and more Indonesian. Migrants from Java and Batakland became
teachers at the schools; many Catholics from Flores sought a better future in
the relatively prosperous province with its mining projects, and from the 1970s
on in Batam, the booming industrial territory just south of Singapore. The first
indigenous bishop was the Sumbanese SVD priest Hilarius Moa Nurak (1987).
In 1987 the Dutch Sacred Hearts Fathers worked with ten members in the
diocese that had 17,000 baptised. Most of the SSCC priests were already over
60 years old. At that time the SSCC had only one Indonesian member. Since
1987 the process of Indonesianisasi or transfer of responsibility to Indonesian
personnel took place. But it was mostly people from other regions who filled
the gaps. In 2000, out of 30 diocesan priests that had at some time been active
in the diocese of Pangkalpinang only three had been born in the region. The
SSCC had by that time 31 members, most of them born in the island of Flores
and still in education for the priesthood. The process of Indonesianisasi had
a tragic start in October 1966 when a first group of four Indonesian Budia
Mulia brothers drowned at sea on their way from Java to Bangka, ready to
begin with their first assignments.
The Indonesianisasi was not always a joyful undertaking. The Apostolic
Vicar of Pangkalpinang since 1951, Gabriel van der Westen (bishop from 1961
until his retirement in 1979), had in his diocese two orders of sisters: one
Dutch group, arriving from Amsterdam in 1925, and one Indonesian group
established in 1937 as KKS, Kongregasi Suster-suster Dina Keluarga Suci or
Humble Sisters of the Holy Family. Van der Westen, a quite stubborn, silent
man, lacking diplomacy and tact, nicknamed William the Silent, provided
ample facilities to the Indonesian sisters (they could work in the best schools,
received money for houses and education) and neglected the Dutch group,
some 21 in 1970. The Dutch group became quite frustrated and one after the
other returned to Europe until the last had left in 1980.186
185
Steenbrink 2003:47–59; Molenkamp 1994:53–61.
186
Rademaker 1999:74–80.
A quite peculiar group of Catholics here are the refugees from Vietnam
(many of Chinese descent) who arrived in boats from the 1970s. These people
needed first of all assistance with food, health care, communication with fami-
lies, and housing. Two of the nine priests of the MEP, Missions Étrangères de
Paris, who had to leave Vietnam in 1975 and sought new work in Indonesia,
are working in the island of Bangka or in the Anambas and Natuna Islands,
where most of the 50,000 refugees were relocated.
There were two European missionaries in this region with special gifts. Lay
brother and carpenter Jan Heuts developed as a healer, mostly for Chinese
people, and changed his name in Yanuar Husada, because he was born
on 17 January 1938 in the Netherlands, but also because the word husada
means medicine in Sanskrit and Old-Javanese. The priest Rolf Reichenbach
(1930–2003) was quite famous among Chinese Catholic charismatic circles,
because of his combination of fervent preaching with an enthusiastic practice
of healing.
With the exception of some large and quite spectacular Christian communities
in Sumatra (especially in Batakland and Nias), it is a fragmented picture that
we have to draw about Christianity in this island of great variations. This must
be said even more about the Catholic minorities who also were late arrivals
in these Christian majority regions.
From the early twentieth century on there were somewhat more prominent
Catholic Chinese expressions in various parts of the island. These were not
always highly appreciated by the clergy. The true missionaries who arrived here
in 1911, the Capuchin Friars, hoped first of all for a breakthrough in Batak
mission, the great prize. That was impossible until the later 1930s and even
then they only received the crumbles that fell from the table. In the 1910s
Dutch language schools were opened. The missionaries hoped to work among
indigenous people, but it turned out that they had some Europeans and even
more Chinese in their schools until the mid-1930s.
Padang was until the late 1930s the most important city of Sumatra. It was
the centre for the army and the bureaucracy, quite different from Medan, the
town of the planters. In 1834–1835 there was for some time a French priest
in Padang, J. Candahl who received no permit to stay longer.187 From 1837 on
there was a continuing succession of resident priests who later also served the
army in Aceh. They paid much attention to the established Chinese community
of the town. Different from the Bangka and Deli-Medan Chinese, most of
187
Steenbrink 2003:20–21; 241–242.
them were Peranakan, offspring of Chinese men and Indonesian women, for
several generations living in this town. Because of the impossibility of making
converts among the native population of Minangkabau, the Catholics built
in Padang a great compound with a church, many schools and dormitories,
convents for sisters and brothers. It was sometimes nicknamed the ‘Vatican
of the Indies.’ In Padang alone there were, in the mid-1930s, 40 Dutch sisters,
most of them working in the schools, serving some 2,400 pupils. Besides, there
were 18 lay brothers in several schools and three priests for a community of
1,629 European and 1,799 mostly Chinese Catholics in Padang.188 There was
some growth in the number of converts, but certainly nothing spectacular.
The Chinese gave priority to good education. Only in the 1960s was there a
somewhat stronger increase in the converts for Christianity among them.
Besides education as the major instrument of contact with candidates for
Catholicism, in two major towns hospitals were founded. Karitas in Palembang
and Elisabeth in Medan are still among the large institutions of these towns,
established in the 1920s but enlarged again and again since then. Smaller
clinics, houses for lepers, and orphanages were established in many other
places, many in the 1970s when funds for development aid started. In Medan
and Palembang modest Catholic Universities were opened somewhat later: in
1987 in Medan the Universitas Santo Thomas Sumatra Utara, and in 1992 the
technical college Sekolah Tinggi Teknik Katolik Musi in Palembang. Padang,
that was the most prominent town of Sumatra until the 1920s, did not develop
as a Catholic centre after the seat of the bishop was moved to Medan in 1939.
Although these medical and educational facilities were not first of all for the
Chinese, it developed in the cities of Palembang and Medan more or less in
that direction.
The Chinese of the plantation area of Deli and of the town of Medan were
recent arrivals. In the plantations evangelisation was impossible. The great
harbour town of Bagan Siapi-api had in the later 1930s a Catholic Chinese
community of some 550. They were served by one of the Dutch missionaries
who had studied Chinese in Ipoh (Malacca) and later in China itself.
188
Koloniaal Missie Tijdschrift 1935:171–174 in an article by Andreas (Jucundus) Hoogerhoud.
Further data from Jaarboek 1940.
to several Jesuit priests that this region was nearly totally Muslim, but that still
some nomad tribes had resisted the attraction of a world religion. Thereupon
Bishop Claessens asked permission for missionary action. However, at that
time a Protestant missionary, A. Festersen had settled in the town of Bengkulu
and applied for a permit to work in these same regions. This was rejected with
the argument that the last pagans recently had converted to Islam. Festersen
made a journey to the inland area of Pasemah and concluded that at least some
37,000 pagans were to be converted, both in the region close to Bengkulu and
in the Pasemah highlands. Festersen himself was infected with tuberculosis
and died on 31 January 1886 in Bengkulu. Thereupon Bishop Claessens again
asked for a permit to start a Catholic missionary action. The experienced
Jesuit priest, J. van Meurs, made a first visit to the region in early 1887. On
11 April 1887 Governor General Otto van Rees decided that no permit for
proper missionary work could be given, but only for socio-linguistic explora-
tions. In September 1887, on his way to his new destination of Tanjung Sakti
in the foothills of the Pasemah Highlands, Van Meurs met, in Bengkulu, the
new Protestant missionary J.C. Kersten, also on his way to Tanjung Sakti! The
case ended with a gentlemen’s agreement between the missionaries. Kersten
returned in April 1888 to the town of Bengkulu and later to the Batu islands
(see above the section on Batu islands). He sold his belongings to the Catholic
missionary.
The selection of Tanjung Sakti as a missionary post was a failure. There were
some nomads roaming around in the region, but they were not inclined to
stay for a longer time in one place. But after so many deliberations, up to the
highest level, the prestige of the mission required that the effort be continued.
As usual a school was opened, but the sedentary population were all Muslims
and the nomad Kubu tribe was very difficult to be reached. A few hundred
people converted, but the missionaries were realistic enough to know that
it was for the sake of food and clothes.189 A quite curious debate about this
Kubu tribe took place among government officials and anthropologists after
Controleur C.J. van Dongen had published an article in a learned journal about
the Kubu, stating that they were the exception: a people without any religion,
ritual or myth. In fact the article was only written after a five-day visit, without
a proper knowledge of the language and the missionaries, convinced of the
Urmonotheismus theory of Wilhelm Schmidt, took up a good opportunity to
fight these ideas.190
Around 1900 there were 340 baptised in the station of Tanjung Sakti. The
number rose several times but shrunk also. In the period 1912–1914 the
189
Vriens no date:411–422.
190
References in Steenbrink 2007:352.
191
Helbig 1935:99.
192
Aster 1959:102–122.
193
Rosariyanto 2000:180–183.
194
Steenbrink 1984.
improved. Relations were more or less frozen, with the common celebration of
Christmas as a good exception. The several schisms within Protestant churches
have strengthened the image of the Catholic Church as a rather solid, stable
and reliable religious community. This has on a small scale led to a modest
increase of members and, again, the accusation of sheep stealing.
Within the Catholic community there was never the strong debate on
secularisation and preparation for a modern society that we have seen in the
HKBP, with Soritua Nababan as the great stimulator. Instead, it is striking to see
in the Catholic discourse a constant attention for Batakness. Already in 1939
an altar was constructed in gorga-Batak architectural style by an artist from
Porsea, as part of the Indonesian contribution to an international missionary
exhibition in Rome (it is now in the church of Balige. See chapter twenty).
Catholics have continued to use the Batak architectural style for religious
buildings and to use Batak symbols in liturgy. Also in liturgical clothes the
ulos of Batak traditional ritual is used with reverence as a kind of pallium,
worn by the priest over the chasuble on festive occasions. The sacred mantra
of horas is also used as some kind of Amen or Alleluia to evoke the spirit of
a joyful, truly Batak revered atmosphere.
One of the strong exponents of this Catholic Batakness is Bishop Dr.
Anicetus Bongsu Antonius Sinaga. Born on 25 September 1941 in the Silbolga
region as son of a Batak ritual specialist or datu, the 17 years old high school
student Bongsu Sinaga became a Catholic and received the name Antonius.
He continued his studies for priesthood as a member of the Capuchin Order
(where he uses the name of Anicetus) and wrote a dissertation in Louvain on
the idea of the High God in Toba-Batak traditional thinking.195 On 6 January
1981 he was ordained as Bishop of Sibolga and in 2004 Sinaga moved to the
seat of Medan, as coadjutor, apparently to become the Archbishop of this most
important Catholic diocese of Sumatra.
In the first decade of the twentieth century, the colonial government had
started a programme of migration of landless Javanese to the under-populated
southern region of Sumatra, Lampung. As was the case with the Protestant
Javanese, so there was also a small number of Catholics among the migrants.
In the case of the Protestants there was some direct connection between the
church in Central Java and the migrants in South Sumatra. In the Catholic
mission, it was not the Jesuits of Central Java, but the SCJ order (Sacred Heart
195
A. Sinaga 1981.
of Jesus), serving in Palembang and the vast region of South Sumatra, (includ-
ing Bengkulu and Lampung), who took responsibility for the migrants. Is it
by pure chance of history that the first initiatives on both sides were taken in
the early 1930s, the period of the deepest economic recession of the period?
In 1932 the Central Javanese congregation of Purworejo selected an evangelist
(guru injil) who would start work among the Sumatran Protestants. He actually
arrived only in June 1936. At that moment already some Javanese Protestants
had turned towards the Catholics who had started work among the migrants
in 1932 from the central town of Pringsewu in Lampung.196
Besides the landless Javanese who migrated to Lampung, there was another
quite exceptional project for Catholic Eurasians who were struck by the eco-
nomic recession of World War I. In 1918 the religiously neutral organisation
for Eurasians, IEV (Indo-Europeesche Vereeniging) had started a settlement
close to Tanjung Karang, called De Giesting (now Gisting). About half of
its 300 people were Catholics. In 1936 the SCJ missionaries opened a post
there for a permanent priest. But the whole undertaking was a failure. Most
Eurasians came from urban areas and had no idea about agriculture. They
could not earn even the income of the native farmers. An SCJ brother started
a boarding school that concentrated on agricultural skills, but by that time
the project was already considered a failure.
From the mid-1930s on the parish priest of Pringsewu tried to be pres-
ent at the harbour of Telukbetung for the arrival of new Javanese settlers.
Once he saw a large group of 12 families out of one village, preceded by
their village head who came off the boat in procession style, following a boy
of nine years old bearing a cross. They addressed the priest, identified from
his cassock. This man asked rather optimistically, “Shall we conquer Sumatra
through the Javanese?”197 This did not occur and among the Javanese set-
tlers themselves there was only very limited success. As was the case with
the Javanese Protestants, there was a strong ethnic separation in Lampung,
where Javanese soon became an important language and where the Javanese
migrants formed a separate group. The new settlers in South Sumatra remained
orientated towards their region of origin. In this way the Javanese Catholics
of the Lampung region had closer relations to the Catholics of Central Java
than to the Chinese Catholics of Metro, Palembang, or other cities of Sumatra.
The same can be said of the Catholic Bataks, many of whom migrated to Java
where they formed their own Batak networks. Therefore priests had to learn
Chinese for Bagan Siapi-api, Nias and Batak in these regions, while the priests
196
Hoogerwerf 1997:123–128.
197
Hermelink 1939:25.
198
Hoogerwerf 1996:179.
199
Muskens 1974-IIIa:220.
200
Rosariyanto 2000:202–203.
201
Utami 1998:96–97.
and 1980s were the period of the extra flow of money for development aid,
but also the period of intensified political choices against or in favour of the
military government of Soeharto’s New Order. The small Catholic community,
consisting of a quite diverse population, did not make one choice only, but
within the overall structure various streams could live together. This can be
considered as on of the stronger points of this religious community.
Simon Rae (Batakland until 1900 and Karoland); Karel Steenbrink (Catholics);
Jan S. Aritonang (Batakland 1900–2005, and some other parts with contribu-
tions from Richard Daulay, E. Hoogerwerf and Uwe Hummel)
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