Candi Mendut Womb of the Tathāgata

Written, compiled, translated and illustrated by Mark Long

© 2009 Mark Long. All Rights Reserved.

7073 Dexter-Ann Arbor Rd. #183

Dexter, Michigan 48130 USA

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Table of ContentsList of Illustrations viKey to footnote abbreviations xiKey to the reliefs and images at Candi Mendut xiiForeword xiIntroduction xxiiiAcknowledgments xliii

Chapter I: A Descriptive Survey of the Temple 1

The Left Staircase Wing 2The Right Staircase Wing 9The Fields on the Front Porch 12The Fields on the Sub-basement 15

The fields at the first corner of the sub-basement 16The fields on the projection to the northeast 16The fields at the second corner of the sub-basement 17The fields on the sub-basement projection to the southeast 17The fields on the third corner of the sub-basement 18The fields on the sub-basement projection to the southwest 18The fields at the fourth corner of the sub-basement 19

The Reliefs along the Cella Footer 19The Fields on the Cella Partition Walls 37The Fields at the Corners of the Cella 43Exterior Walls of the Vestibule 47The Vestibule’s Interior 49Inside the Cella 55The Cella Roof 62

Chapter II: Mendut’s Environs 65

Site Coordinates and Orientations in Central Java 66Candi Pawon 69

Chapter III: Mendut’s Organizing Principle 81

Vāstuśāstra and Buddhism 87The Mañjuśrīvāstuvidyaśāstra 89The Paramaśāyikin and Mantrayāna Buddhism 94The Paramaśāyikin at Candi Mendut 97

Chapter IV: The Reliefs on the Foot of the Cella 109

The Wings To Enlightenment 109The Circle of Letters 111The Wings To Enlightenment at Candi Mendut 113

Chapter V: The Reliefs on the Exterior Partition Walls 125

The Principal Deities on the Exterior Partition Walls 127Sarvanivaranaviskambhin 128

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Maitreya 129Tārā, Cundā or Mahāpratisarā 131Samantabhadra 135Ksitigarbha 136Avalokiteśvara 138Vajrapāni 142Mañjuśrī 143Tārā, Cundā or Prajñāpāramitā 144Akaśagarbha 147Gaganagañja or Padmapāni 149The Principal Deities and the Squares of the VPM 153

Sāvitra (B34) and Savitrī (B35) Squares 153The Vivasvant Squares 155The Indra-Jaya (B37) and Indra-Rāja (B38) Squares 156The Mitra Squares (B39) 157The Rāja Yaksman (B40) and Rudra (B41) Squares 159The Prthivīdhara Squares (B42) 162The Āpa and Āpavatra Squares 163The Three Aryaman Squares (Vestibule) 164

The Eight Great Bodhisattvas at Borobudur 165

Chapter VI: Inside the Vestibule 169

Hārītī — Mahāyāna Buddhism’s Protector of Children 171The Yaksa Pāñcika 173The Yaksa Atavaka 173Vaiśravana — Mahāyāna Buddhism’s Lord of Riches 175The Troupe of Eight Flying Divinities 179Above Hārītī’s yaksa spouse 183Above Hārītī 183Candidate Octads 184

Chapter VII: Inside the Cella: A Detailed Hypothesis 189

The Śaiva-Siddhāntist Salvation Pantheon 190The Mantrayāna Salvation Pantheon 193Comparing the Siddhāntist Śaktis and Mantra-Buddhist Devīs 194Testing the Hypothesis 198Modifications to Moens’ Initial Hypothesis 206Counter-hypotheses 210

Chapter VIII: Astrological Symbolism of Mendut and Pawon 223

The Celestial Doors to the Otherworld and Rebirth 226Illumination of the Interior Space at Candi Mendut 228Illumination of the Interior Space at Candi Pawon 233Borobudur-Mendut Alignment 234The Celestial Tree 236The Head of the Kālapurusa 238The Javanese Sun-Door 240The Celestial Symbolism of the Staircase 246Proceeding Down The Pathway 250The Vāstunāga of the Site 259

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Chapter IX: Dimensional Symbolism of the Javanese Temple 261

Critical Considerations 262A Statistical Analysis 263The Asta Kosala Kosali 266Determining the Javanese Measurement Unit 267Borobudur’s Head, Body and Foot 270The Four Axes of the Galleries at Borobudur 271The Latitude of the Site 273Candi Mendut’s Dimensions 274Measurement Symbolism at Candi Pawon 281Dimensional Symbolism at Candi Plaosan 282

The southern group 283The northern group 284The central group 286The principal images within the twin vihāra 294The vihāra bas-reliefs 295Suggestions for future research 299

Chapter X: The Javanese Temple as Heaven’s Mirror 301

Indra’s Paradise 301The Apsaras and Gandharvas 306The Starry Road to Indra’s Heaven 308As Above, So Below 316Tārā and Soma 320Ratu Kidul: The Goddess of the Southern Sea 323

Appendix A: The State of Old Mataram 329

Raja-raja Mataram Kuna dari Sanjaya sampai Balitung 331 An Evaluation of ‘Revisiting Old Mataram’ 341

“Phase one: foundation (A.D. 716-746)” 343 “Phase two: expansion and consolidation in Central Java (A.D. 746-827)” 345 “Phase three: new directions and eastward expansion (A.D. 828-885)” 351 “Phase four: political turbulence (A.D. 885-898)” 356 “Balitung and the first years of phase five” 357 Summary evaluation of ‘Revisiting Old Mataram’ 358

On future efforts to untangle the history of Śailendra-era Java 358

Appendix B: Glossary of Sanskrit Words 363

Appendix C: Bibliography 383

Index 393

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List of IllustrationsIntroduction:

Fig. 1: Candi Mendut’s colossal image triad. xxivFig. 2: The layout of the yard within the walled enclosure. xxviiiFig. 3: The older temple inside Candi Mendut. xxxiFig. 4: The throne for the Buddha image at Candi Mendut. xxxiiiFig. 5: The roof according to Brandes (top) and Van Erp (bottom). xxxviFig. 6: Van Erp’s reconstruction of the temple’s original design (1909). xxxviiFig. 7: Brandes’ plan for the portal, top and front views (1904). xxxviiiFig. 8: Maps of Central Java and the temples in the vicinity of Prambanan. xlii

Chapter I:

Fig. 9: The makara heads on the staircase wings. 1Fig. 10: The fields on the left staircase wing. 2Figs. 11 & 12: Field 1e1 (left) and field 1e2 (right). 3Figs. 13 & 14: Field 1e3 (left) and field 1e4 (right). 4Figs. 15 & 16: Field 1e5 and field 1e6. 7Fig. 17: Field 1e8. 7Figs. 18 & 19: Field 1e10 and field 1e11. 8Fig. 20: The fields on the right staircase wing. 9Figs. 21 & 22: Field 2e1 (left) and field 2e2 (right). 10Figs. 23 & 24: Field 2e3 (left) and field 2e4 (right). 11Figs. 25 & 26: Field 2e5 (left) and field 2e6 (right) 11Fig. 27: Field 2e8. 12Fig. 28: The front porch and cella footer profiles. 13Figs. 29 & 30: The floral and cruciform tapestry fields on the porch. 14Figs. 31, 32, 33 & 34: Fields A1, A3, A49 and A51 on the porch. 15Figs. 35 & 36: The light and dense tapestry patterns on the sub-basement. 16Figs. 37 & 38 & 39: Fields A15 (left), A26 (center) and A22 (right). 17Fig. 40: Floral field on one of the short sides of cella’s projections. 20Fig. 41: Field B1. 21Fig. 42: Field B2. 21Fig. 43: Field B3. 21Fig. 44: Field B4. 22Fig. 45: Field B5. 22Fig. 46: Field B6. 23Fig. 47: Field B7. 24Fig. 48: Field B8. 25Fig. 49: Field B9. 26Fig. 50: Field B10. 26Fig. 51: Field B11. 27Fig. 52: Field B12. 27Fig. 53: Field B13. 28Fig. 54: Field B14. 28Fig. 55: Field B15. 29Fig. 56: Field B16. 29Fig. 57: Field B18 29Fig. 58. Field B19. 29Fig. 59: Field B21. 30Fig. 60: Field B22. 30Fig. 61 Field B23. 31Fig. 62: Field B24. 31

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Fig. 63: Field B25. 33Fig. 64: Field B26. 34Fig. 65: Field B27. 35Figs. 66, 67 & 68: Fields B28 (top), B29 (middle) and B30 (bottom). 36Fig. 69: Field B31. 37Fig. 70: Cornice frieze featuring garlands and parrots. 37Fig. 71: Field B36. 38Fig. 72: Field B39. 40Fig. 73: Field B42. 42Figs. 74 & 75: Fields B34 and B35. 44Figs. 76 & 77: Fields B37 and B38. 45Figs. 78 and 79: Fields B40 and B41. 46Figs. 80 & 81: Fields B43 and B44. 47Fig. 82: Field B45. 48Figs. 83 & 84: Vestibule tapestry pattern (left) and field C1 (right). 49Fig. 85: Field C3. 50Figs. 86 & 87: Fields C5 and C6. 52Fig. 88: Decorative elements above field C7. 54Fig. 89: Image D1. 56Fig. 90: Bodhisattva and Buddha images before the restoration. 57Figs. 91 & 92: Images D2 and D3. 58Figs. 93 & 94: Bodhisattvas on the left and right sides of the Buddha. 59Fig. 95: One of the niches within the cella. 60Fig. 96: The niche for the inscription. 62Fig. 97: The “Deer Park” field within the cella. 61Fig. 98: Van Erp’s architectural drawing of the roof (side view). 63Fig. 99: The presumed head-piece for the vestibule doorway. 64

Chapter II:

Fig. 100: Alignment of Borobudur with Candi Pawon and Candi Mendut. 65Fig. 101: Site locations and orientations. 66Fig. 102: Borobudur, Pawon and Mendut (center to center, roof of Pawon south of the red line). 67Fig. 103: Borobudur, Pawon and Mendut (pathway alignment passed over the roof at Pawon). 68Fig. 104: Borobudur, Pawon & Mendut (entrance alignment). 68Fig. 105: Pawon before the restoration. 70Fig. 106: Restoration drawings for the roof of Candi Pawon. 71Fig. 107: Layout of the yard at Candi Pawon. 72Fig. 108: Javanese bronze image of Kuvera. 73Fig. 109: The north-facing staircase wing at Candi Pawon. 74Fig. 110: The pediment over the entranceway at Candi Pawon. 75Figs. 111 & 112: The female figures that flank the center panel on the cella’s back wall. 76Figs. 113 & 114: Male figures in the cella’s smaller side panels. 77Fig. 115: Candi Pawon after the restoration. 79

Chapter III:

Fig. 116: A vāstupurusa-mandala of 81 squares. 82Fig. 117: Versions of the vāstupurusa-mandala used on Java. 82Fig. 118: Prambanan (top) and Borobudur (bottom). 83Figs. 119, 120, 121 & 122: Kalasan and Sewu (top); Pawon and Plaosan Lor (bottom). 84Fig. 123: Deities of the paramaśāyikin plan according to the Mañjuśrī Vāstuvidyaśāstra. 85Fig. 124: The naksatras. 86Fig. 125: The paramaśāyikin candita; and the application of the sthandila plan at Candi Sewu 93Fig. 126: Borobudur’s summit and the paramaśāyikin candita plan. 94Fig. 127: The diagram of 81 squares (top) and the garbhadhātu-mandala (bottom). 95

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Fig. 128: The Genzu garbhadhātu naksatra deities. 96Fig. 129: The Genzu garbhadhātu-mandala. 97Fig. 130: The vāstupurusa-mandala for the cella and vestibule. 98Fig. 131: The Sarvatobhadra-cakra of Indian astrology. 99Fig. 132: A representative distribution of the deities at Candi Mendut. 100Fig. 133: Figures on the sub-basement’s three projections. 101Figs. 134 & 135: Fields A3 & A49. 102Fig. 136: Astrological aspects of the Indian system of asterisms. 103Figs. 137 & 138: Two figures wearing nāga arm-bands. 105Fig. 139: Field A1. 106Fig. 140: Indra and Airāvata on the staircase. 108Fig. 141: Staircase wing facing the north prior to the restoration. 108

Chapter IV:

Fig. 142: Mantra of Mañjuśrī. 111Fig. 143: Sanskrit vowels (SHK). 112Fig. 144: Sanskrit consonants, semi-vowels and sibilants (SHK). 112Fig. 145: Assignment of the syllables in the SHK’s ‘Circle of Letters’. 114Fig. 146: The 37 layers of the cella’s floor and pyramidal roof-structure. 115Fig. 147: The 31 fields on the cella footer and the SHK’s ‘Circle of Letters’. 116Fig. 148: The six fields on the vestibule-footer and the SHK’s ‘Circle of Letters’. 119Fig. 149: Alternate letters for the six fields on the vestibule-footer. 121Fig. 150: Alternative assignments for the ‘Circle of Letters’ beginning with field B27. 123

Chapter V:Fig. 151: Sarvanivaranaviskambhin (B34 — North corner). 128Fig. 152: Maitreya (B35 — North corner). 130Fig. 153: The goddess flanked by bodhisattvas holding red and blue lotus flowers (B36 – NE). 133Fig. 154: Samantabhadra (B37 — East corner). 136Fig. 155: Ksitigarbha (B38 – East corner). 137Fig. 156: Bodhisattva with three jewels at Plaosan Lor. 138Fig. 157: Avalokiteśvara flanked by two goddesses (B39 — Southeast). 141Fig. 158: Vajrapāni (B40 — South corner). 143Fig. 159: Mañjuśrī (B41 — South corner). 144Fig. 160: Four-armed goddess with attendants (B42— Southwest). 146Fig. 161: Bodhisattva attendants with utpala and lotus flowers. 147Fig. 162: Akaśagarbha (B43 – West corner). 148Fig. 163: The mandala of nine-squares at Ellora. 150Fig. 164: Major Deities in the Candi Mendut Cella Reliefs. 152Figs. 165 & 166: Relief IV-II.3 at Borobudur (top) and proposed identifications (bottom). 166

Chapter VI:

Fig. 167: Royal couple presenting offerings. 169Fig. 168: Flower panels and sinuous vine. 170Fig. 169: Hārītī and some of her children within the vestibule. 172Fig. 170: Vaiśravana and children in Mendut’s vestibule. 176Figs. 171 & 172: Mother and children (left) and spouse (right) at Candi Banyunibo. 178Fig. 173: The flying nāga holding an orb featuring a small figurine. 180Figs. 174 – 177: Four flying divinities on the left sidewall of the vestibule. 181Figs. 178 – 181: Four flying divinities right sidewall of the vestibule. 182

Chapter VII:

Fig. 182: Interior plan of the cella and vestibule. 189

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Fig. 183: Śaiva-Siddhāntist Pantheon. 192Fig. 184: Reconstructed Mantra-Buddhist Pantheon based on the SHK and other resources. 193Figs. 185 & 186: Jambhala image (left) and detail (right) showing the money bag. 202Fig. 187: Schematic of the garbhadhātu-mandala of Shingon Buddhism (after Moens). 209Fig. 188: Comparison of Moens’ 1921 and 1950 deity identifications for Mendut. 209Fig. 189. Mañjuśrī image from Plaosan Lor antechamber. 213Fig. 190: Mañjuśrī image from Plaosan Lor cella. 214Fig. 191: Potential ratnatraya permutations for Candi Mendut according to Moens. 216Fig. 192: Mañjuśrī in dharmacakra-mudrā. 217Fig. 193: Ratnatraya permutations for the twin vihāra at Candi Plaosan Lor. 217Fig. 194: The three centrally placed images on the east altar of the pendopo at Plaosan Lor. 218Fig. 195: First floor ground plan for either vihāra at Plaosan Lor. 219Fig. 196: The five images on the south altar of the pendopo at Plaosan Lor. 220Fig. 197: The five images on the north altar of the pendopo at Plaosan Lor. 221Fig. 198: Dimensions and layout of the pendopo at the north end of Plaosan Lor. 222

Chapter VIII:

Fig. 199: Northwest orientations of Pawon (left) and Mendut (right). 225Fig. 200: Headings of Mendut and Pawon in the NW and SE directions. 227Figs. 201 & 202: The colossal Buddha and sunlight in the vestibule. 228Fig. 203: A brief moment of sunshine in mid-June. 229Figs. 204 & 205: The angle of the sun's rays on the June solstice. 230Fig. 206: Mendut’s image house, based the sthandila plan of 49 squares. 231Fig. 207: Borobudur’s ganhita plan of 361 squares. 232Fig. 208: Zodiac beaker with symbols and deities for all 12 zodiac signs (Crawfurd). 235Fig. 209: Relative positions of Aquila, Lyra and Sagittarius. 235Fig. 210: The zodiac constellations. 238Fig. 211: The Javanese kekayon. 241Fig. 212: Nakula wayang puppet featuring pointed ears. 243Fig. 213: Diamond pattern on the inside face of the low balustrade. 246Fig. 214: Lunar and solar eclipses. 247Fig. 215: The raksa guardians at the foot of the staircase. 248Fig. 216: Moon crescents and jewel. 248Fig. 217: Monumental Buddha in dharmacakra-mudrā. 249Fig. 218: Borobudur as seen from a distance of approximately one kilometer. 250Figs. 219 & 220: Location of the sun, local noon, during the year (Borobudur & Angkor). 251Fig. 221. Length of the sun’s shadow, according to the Mañjuśrīvāstuvidyaśāstra. 253Fig. 222: Shadow lengths on Java. 253Fig. 223: Pranatamangsa — The Javanese seasonal cycle (dates adapted for 800 CE). 254Fig. 224: Borobudur sunset observation data (as observed from Pawon, mid-eighth century). 256Fig. 225. Rotating orientation of the vāstunāga. 260

Chapter IX:

Fig. 226: Angkor Wat viewed from the west as the dawn approaches. 262Fig. 227: The dimensions of the monument’s summit in tāla units. 269Fig. 228: Static dimensions of the axes and perimeters at Borobudur. 271Fig. 229: Lunar symbolism of the east-west path across the monument. 273Fig. 230: Basement dimensions (central cube, pre-restoration). 275Fig. 231: Post-restoration dimensions of the bas-relief band on the basement. 275Fig. 232: Concurrence between the raised ambulatory path and the annual solar cycle. 277Fig. 233: Exterior pathway at Candi Mendut. 278Fig. 234: Interior pathway at Candi Mendut. 279Fig. 235: Dimensional symbolism of the summit platforms — N/S, E/W axes. 280Fig. 236: Dimensional symbolism of the summit platforms — intermediate directions. 280

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Fig. 237: The measurements of the cella at Candi Pawon. 281Fig. 238: The ambulatory path at Candi Pawon. 282Fig. 239. The prāsāda at Plaosan Kidul. 284Fig. 240: The pendopo and courtyard of the northern group at Plaosan Lor. 285Fig. 241: Layout of the northern group at Plaosan Lor. 286Fig. 242: A donor inscription. 286Fig. 243: Inner courtyard measurements in tāla. 288Fig. 244: Internal dimensions, north vihāra. 290Figs. 245 & 246: Ambulatory paths equaling 365 and 371 tāla, respectively. 292Fig. 247: View of the south vihāra and the gateway between the yards. 293Fig. 248: Image of Maitreya, north altar. 294Fig. 249: Royal male donors and servants within the south vihāra. 296Figs. 250 & 251: Donor images in bas-relief within the south vihāra. 297Fig. 252. The view from the altar in the central chamber. 299

Chapter X:

Fig. 253: Decorative motif featuring wishing trees and kinnara at Prambanan. 302Fig. 254: Yaksa and apsaras at Borobudur, promenade level. 303Figs. 255 & 256: Gandharvas at Borobudur, promenade level. 304Fig. 257: Apsaras, gandharva and yaksa at Borobudur, promenade level. 304Figs. 258 & 259: Apsara (left) and gandharva (right) between the Buddha niches. 306Figs. 260 & 261: Male figures standing beside incense burners at Candi Plaosan Lor. 308Fig. 262: A battle scene from the Gandavyūha bas-reliefs at Borobudur. 311Fig. 263: The right staircase wing (east side), central temple at Candi Sewu. 312Fig. 264: Layout of the inner courtyard showing drainage system (after Jordaan). 313Figs 265 & 266: Anthropomorphic figures emerging from the makaras at Prambanan and Sewu. 314Fig. 267: The layout of Borobudur. 315Figs. 268 & 269: The Bayon reflection and virtual-world rendering for Prambanan. 318Fig. 270: The architectural layout of the Prambanan temple complex (after Jordaan). 319

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Key to the footnote abbreviations

BEFEO = Bulletin de l’École Française d’Extrême-OrientBKI = Bijdragen tot de Taal-, Land- en VolkenkundeEFEO = École Française d’Extrême-OrientMKAW-L = Mededelingen der Koninklijke Nederlandse Akademie van Wetenschappen, afdeling LetterkundeNBG = Notulen van de Algemeene en Directievergaderingen van het Bataviaasch Genootschap van Kunsten en WetenschappenOV =Oudheidkundig VerslagROC = Rapporten van de Commissee in Nederlandsch-Indië voor Oudheidkundig Onderzoek op Java en Madura.TBG = Tijdschrift voor Indische Taal-, Land- en VolkenkundeTNI = Tijdschrift voor Nederlandsch-Indië

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Key to the reliefs and images at Candi Mendut

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FOREWORD

This work by Mark Long continues his creative dimension of understanding the candis of Indonesia as cosmic symbols of sovereignty that encode astronomical perceptions of the auspicious. In his study of the Borobudur,1 along with Caesar Voûte, he blazed a new trail of inquiry, and found answers for resolving some long-sought doubts. Mark Long’s present work on Candi Mendut is yet another milestone that deserves serious attention as it provides materials required for conducting a detailed study of the Mendut temple, as well as a number of points in need of further investigation. This is a book that will provoke and inspire scholars to rethink many issues.

The Introduction is really revealing and helps us to see through the reconstructions of the monument. The Dutch scholars seem to be the reincarnations of the Śailendra architects who have recreated their ancient glory in a marvelous manner. The author is doing a punya by bringing to moderns the charm of the spirit of the Śailendra monarchs. It has evolved several ideas in my perception of the restoration of monuments.

Chapters One and Two present a complete descriptive inventory of the reliefs and overall designs of Mendut and Pawon based on the reports of early investigators. They are solid contributions, done with meticulous care.

Chapter Three makes for fascinating reading. The author has introduced a new dimension to the whole candi in its role in the life of the Javanese. It is important in that it correlates Mendut with the vāstupurusa-mandala and its integral relationship to the heavenly bodies. All the Javanese candi should be studied using this basic principle as a guide.

The vāstu-mandala of 81 squares was derived from the architectural tradition, which was common to all Indic expressions of thought, ritual and devotion. Architectural structures represented our communication with the heavens and thus the role of astronomy became crucial. The stars were arbiters of human destiny; hence the pivotal place of astrology in conjunction with astronomy.

The author firmly establishes the vāstu-mandala of 81 squares within the Mahāyāna Buddhist context by showing how a Buddhist architectural text called the Mañjuśrī Vāstuvidya-śāstra presents this guiding principle under the term candita. With my permission, Long has revisited my discussion2 of the term candita and its relationship with the Javanese Candi in the light of the Vāstuvidya-śāstra.

Furthermore, the author’s correlation of the Mendut’s reliefs with astronomical concepts and celestial phenomenon is remarkable in that they reflect the world-view of ancient Buddhists. It is a path-making approach to the deeper symbolism of the monuments that were trying to endow life with the supernal blessing of the Heavenly Bodies in the transcendence of contemplation. These temples were roots whence life could be enriched. We have to know a Life greater than our own for charismatic assurance.

Dyāvā-prithivī ‘Heaven and Earth’ were the cosmic androgyne, wherein arose all creation as a continuous flow. Time in modern reckoning is devoid of “Value”. In the Indic world, Time was Kāla (from the root kal ‘to make’, compare Latin calculo) the Maker, an element of primary relevance as the universal creativity. Vital is akin to vat-sa ‘son’, vatsara ‘year’: the son is a

1 Long, Mark and Voûte, Caesar. Borobudur: pyramid of the cosmic Buddha. New Delhi: DK Printworld (2008).2 Chandra, Lokesh. Society and culture of Southeast Asia: continuities and changes. New Delhi: Aditya Prakashan (2000: 132-133).

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yearling when born. A temporal term is used to denote a son; what a tribute of patriarchal society to time.

Chapter Four is interesting because it connects the Candi to the yoga-purusa, to the letters of the alphabet, and to other Buddhist concepts. It is close to the Javanese Buddhist system of analogical thinking: the correlation of the individual to the cosmos, and to the body as the stūpa-prāsadā. The connection that the author establishes between the ‘37 wings of enlightenment’ (bodhipaksya dharmas) of Buddhism and the 37 small reliefs along the cella footer is significant. The 37 bodhipaksya dharmas are detailed in several Buddhist texts, beginning with the Pali Suttas. Lankāvatāra , Lalitavistara, Saddharmapundarīka, Daśabhūmika, and Avatamsaka, and several other Mahāyana sūtras treat them at length. They are mentioned in the Divyāvadāna, which served as a guiding text for a considerable number of reliefs in the first gallery at Borobudur.

A relevant citation from the Divyāvadāna is as follows: “They realized personal enlightenment (the pratyeka-bodhi of a pratyeka-buddha) having attained 37 bodhipaksya dharmas that are helpful aids to enlightenment but without a teacher (acāryā), or without any proponents (anupadesaka). This narration should be heard night-long by those who are attached to worldly desires. It is the narrative of charity, of good works (sīla), of heaven, to get out of passions, evil mishaps, and dangers, and for the purification (vyavadāna) of defilements. The lord preached the bodhipaksya dharmas t o nun Prakrti. (By this pious narration nun Prakrti attained realization, was elated and delighted).”

Chapter Five examines the reliefs on the outfacing walls of the cella and vestibule and attempts to correlate the figures they contain with the deities that preside over the squares of the vāstu-mandala. The chapter includes a discussion of a newly proposed identification3 for Mendut’s eight-armed goddess as Mahāpratīsarā, who plays a defense role in the Pañcaraksa text. It is from the root pratī-sr ‘to attach, assail’. Pratisarāh (plural) are magical vows or formulas to protect from demons, in the Śatapatha-brāhmana, pratīsara (masculine) also means ‘a watch, a guard’.

Chapter Six, which focuses on the interior reliefs of the portal, provides re-interpretations for many of the divinities portrayed within, including the portal’s principal male figure, previously identified as either Kuvera, Pañcika or Ātavaka. In my Dictionary of Buddhist Iconography I accepted his identification as Ātavaka, but the yaksa on the southwest wall of the temple’s antechamber is not him. Ātavaka is not associated with Hārītī either in the Pali texts or in Sanskrit sūtras. His name occurs in the Mahāvyuatti 3377, Mahāmāyūrī 237. I (Ātavaka), Suvarnamabhāsottama 161.13, and Samādhirāja 43.19 (Ātavaka). In all the four texts he is listed among yaksas with no other details except that the yaksas are protectors.

The male figure is Vaiśravana the lord of riches represented by three treasure pots under his seat. His right foot rests on two of them. Vaiśravana is the King of the Yaksas. The Ātānatiya-sutta was recited by Vaiśravana for the protection of the Buddha and his followers. It is called rakkhā (‘protective rune’).

It concludes: “this rune, brethren, pertains to your good and by it brethren and sisters of the order, laymen and laywomen may dwell at ease, guarded, protected and unscathed.”4 For Vaiśravana, who watche s ove r ar mies fo r protectin g th e Dharm a (Taishō Tripitaka 1248), Amoghavajra provides a dhārani entitled ‘Dhārani of the Devarāja of the North’. Vaiśravana-

3 Mevissen, Gerd J.R. “Images of Mahāpratisarā in Bengal: Their iconographic links with Javanese, Central Asian and East Asian images.” Journal of Bengal Art 4 (1999): 99-129.4 Rhys Davids, T.W. and C.A.F. Dialogues of the Buddha. London: Luzac (1955-66): 197 [vol. 3].

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kalpa by Amoghavajra (T1247) was used in AD 742 to ward off the attack of five kingdoms against China during the reign of Emperor Hsüan-tsang.

The author’s proposal that the astanidhi is depicted on the two sides of the walkway within the vestibule is fascinating. It fits in with the general approach of the Śailendra kings and their perception of the convergence of affluence and valorization as the prime components of the State: nidhi and Dharma in the grand and solid vision of the candi. The guhyakas are demigods who guard the treasures of Kubera. They may originate from guhā (‘cave’), as treasures were hidden in mountain caverns. As demigods they have been represented as flying.

I am also glad to see Mark Long offer support for the identification of the enthroned royal couple in the vestibule as the founding king and queen of the Śailendra dynasty, based on a hypothesis originally proposed by J. L. Moens. The inscriptions from Nagarjunikanda of the reign of the Iksvākus mention the capitol as Vijyapurī, and the site is referred to as Śrīparvata. The Śailendras seem to hail from Śrīsailam in Andhra Pradesh and hence their dominions are Śrīvijaya of Irjayapurī. The Nagarjunikonda monuments and inscriptions need to be studied to see if they shed any light on the Mendut.

In Chapter Seven, the author presents a concise English summary of the theories of the Dutch savant J. L. Moens concerning the Mendut pantheon and its possible parallels with Śaiva Siddhānta. In my opinion, however, the Mendut is a Buddhist monument and has no pretensions of being correlated to Śaiva Siddhānta. As Indic traditions were linked at the basic level with certain perceptions like Śāktis and Devīs, parallels were natural. The androgynic principle is inherent in nature and is reflected in the whole of Indic thought, which is grounded in natural entities conditional transcendent perceptions.

Chapter Eight once again takes up the theme of the astronomic and astrological underpinnings of the temple and attempts to place what we have learned so far within a much wider context. The author’s suggestion about the relationship between some of the figures on Mendut’s basement and those that appear on examples of the Javanese zodiac cup is brilliant. In Bali, they represent the months and constellations with figures in their astrological charts. Mark Long also gives the celestial symbolism of the two makara heads at the bottom of the staircase and the two raksasas supporting them. The astronomy of Candi Mendut is really provocative and invites re-consideration of all the candis of Java. I feel that the author has arrived at a reasonable assessment of the monument and its relationships to the cosmos as the macrotheos.

Chapter Nine is indeed well done. The temple is the purusa-mandala and the author has demonstrated it well from the Balinese Asta Kosala (= hasta kauśalya, ‘handicraft’).

The book concludes with Chapter Ten, which provides some interesting ideas for further research. I admire the author’s ingenious insight into the meditational, philosophical and astronomical calculations that were the infrastructure of the ancient architects of the sacred structures. I also love ideas that roam in the alleys and side-lanes of probabilities and possibilities and this book provides plenty of avenues for further exploration. Truth itself is ever evolving: how otherwise can it be eternal?

☼

Candi Mendut is a silent symbol of the power, piety, prosperity, governance and strategy of the Śailendra Empire. Beginning with the staircase leading to the sanctum, every relief at this temple represents their dream space and the dynamic statecraft that made Indonesia a superpower during the centuries they governed. Some of the fables or stories presented in the

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reliefs have been identified with the Pañcatantra, Hitopadeśa, and Jātakas, with animals playing the lead role in some, humans in others. The narrations in the Pañcatantra were meant to teach statecraft to young princes. They were for instructing political principles in particular and worldly wisdom in general. The Pañcatantra and allied literature served as nītiśāstra ― ‘the art of conduct and administration’ expressed in a pleasing style. The stories and fables on the outer sides of the staircase wings are moral narratives as well as nīti (‘political sagacity’) for imperial princes. The very ascension to the Mendut is meant to indicate that the sanctum has a political ambiance.

Basement

The basement of the Mendut has 51 reliefs which are either decorative or symbolic. The two main decorative designs have been designated by Mark Long as floral tapestry (as in A2 on 17) and cruciform tapestry. Gandharvas are represented in a large number of the other basement reliefs. The corner segments of the basement in the north, east, south and west have four reliefs each.

North corner (A5-8) two gandharvas (A5, 7); two floral tapestries (A6, 8)

East corner (A18-21) two gandharvas (A19, 20); two floral tapestries (A18, 21)

South corner (A31-34) two gandharvas (A32, 33); two floral tapestries (A31, 34)

West corner (A44-47) two gandharvas (A45, 47); two floral tapestries (A44, 46).

The projections on the left, back and right sides of the basement each feature five gandharvas and four interspersed tapestries. Gandharva is the parent of the first pair of human beings, Yama and Yamī (Rgveda 10.10.4), and has a mystical power over women and a right to possess them (RV 10.85.21, 22, 40, 41). He is invoked in marriage ceremonies (Atharvaveda 14, 2, 35, 36). The gandharvas follow women and are desirous of intercourse with them in the Atharvaveda and Śatapatha-Brāhmana. They pertain to fertility rites. The gandharvas have been invoked in the Mendut reliefs for the purpose of ensuring progeny for the perpetuation of the Śailendra dynasty over uninterrupted generations.

Left projection (NE: A9-A17) 5 gandharvas (A9, 11, 13, 15, 17)4 tapestries (A10, 12, 14, 16)

Back projection (SE: A22-30) 5 gandharvas (A22, 24, 26, 28, 30)4 tapestries (A23, 25, 27, 29)

Right projection (SW: A35-43) 5 gandharvas (A35, 37, 39, 41, 43)4 tapestries (A36, 38, 40, 42)

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Front Porch

The four initial and four final reliefs of the A series are all located on the front porch. The flying male figure on the left side of the front porch (A1) seems to wear a crown but cannot be Indra, the King of the Gods (Śakro devānām indrah); its counterpart on the right is garuda (A51) the mount of Visnu. The kings are incarnations of Visnu, who assists Indra (A1) in the killing of Vrtra in the Vedic texts . The essence of Visnu incarnates on ten occasions (daśāvatāra) to deliver mankind from great dangers. The garuda represented in relief A51 is Visnu’s celestial mount. He represents Visnu as well as the divine essence of the Śailendra monarch, who was the incarnation of Visnu on earth. The light floral (A2, 50) and heavier cruciform (A4, 48) tapestries are decorative.

The monkey or vānara (A3) refers to the tribal forces of a king. The word vānara is from vanar ‘forest’ (compare vanar-gu ‘moving about in the woods, a savage’). The tribes in the non-urban areas were the most martial elements of society and provided the ferocious vanguard of an army. To win the unflinching loyalty of Indians the British propounded the theory of martial races for those sections of the population which sided with them in subjugating the country. They were granted vast lands and enjoyed special privileges and high status in the colonial social order. Forest tribes (vānara) constituted the armies of Lord Rāma. The fighting forces of Maharama Pratap and Chatrapari Shivaji came from the tribal sections to fight the Moghul armies.

The mongoose in relief A49 stands for prosperity and the imperial treasury. The skin of a mongoose (nakula) was stitched into a purse (nakulī) in ancient times. It is termed nakulaka ‘a kind of purse’ in the Buddhist work Divyāvadāna. In modern Indian languages a purse is nevali.

Left A1 flying divinity (gandharva?)5 Right A51 garudaA2 floral tapestry A50 floral tapestryA3 monkey A49 mongooseA4 cruciform tapestry A48 cruciform tapestry

Ratna-vrksa

The jewel trees (ratna-vrksa) at Candi Mendut represent unprecedented affluence, which was due to the euphoria of transnational trade during the Śailendra period. The Western paradise of Buddhism is vast and where precious stones intermix everywhere. There are extensive descrip-tions of jewel trees in paradise, e.g. in the longer Sukhāvatīvyūha (Gomez 1966:179): “Some golden trees have silver leaves, flowers, and fruits. Some silver trees have gold leaves, flowers and fruits. Some lapis-lazuli trees have leaves, flowers, and fruits made of crystal, and so forth. Some crystal trees have leaves, flowers, and fruits made of lapis-lazuli, and so forth. Some coral trees have leaves, flowers and fruit made of agate. Some agate trees have leaves, flowers and fruit made of lapis-lazuli. Some mother-of-pearl trees have their leaves, flowers and fruits made of all sorts of gems.

“Some jewel trees have roots made of purple gold, trunks of white silver, branches of lapis-lazuli, boughs of crystal, leaves of coral, flowers of agate, and fruits of mother of pearl. Some

5 A flying male divinity cannot be Indra, so I have tentatively suggested ‘gandharva.’

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jewel trees have roots made of white silver, trunks of lapis-lazuli, branches of crystal, boughs of coral, leaves of agate, flowers of mother-of-pearl, and fruits of purple gold. Some jewel trees have roots made of lapis-lazuli, trunks of crystal, branches of coral, boughs of agate, leaves of mother-of-pearl, flowers of purple gold, and fruits of white silver.” (The description goes on.)

The Śailendra monarchs felt that they had created a Paradise on Earth through the (i) glowing economic prosperity due to trans-oceanic trade, (ii) agriculture to ensure food sufficiency, (iii) consolidations of the state through assured peace by a strong military base, (iv) a social order based on values or Dharma; a just government by just means, (v) the expression of Dharma by constructing sacred candis, and (vi) the imposing architectonics of the candis and the visualization of a high literature in them as the eternalization of the glory of the Śailendra dynasty.

Like the Śailendra monarch, other kings of Java were also concerned with the well-being of their people as a prime motivation of the duties of the state. The reliefs on the basement invite attention to royal concerns for their kingdom, which can be confirmed by some Old Javanese texts. The preface to the Virātaparva indicates that the Mahāraja Dharmavamśa Těguh Ananta -vikrama (AD 985-1007) had the Virātaparva rendered into Old Javanese so that it would lead to auspiciousness (mangala). Mangala is defined as (i) the values (sarvaguna) employed to determine state policies; (ii) a vibrant agricultural economy that provides a strong base for polity, which is dependent on regular rains for crops; (iii) the annihilation of enemies as a result of the king’s prowess; and (iv) the eternalization of the monarch’s creative achievements by executing a translation of Vyāsa’s epic ― an event which marked the inception of Javanese literature.

The following presents the general sense of the relevant passage from the Virātaparva:6

“Moreover, there is a cakravarti who is boundless in excellent qualities. He is firm in his faith (śraddhā) which delights his subjects and he has their affection. All virtues flourish and there are abundant crops especially of rice, sesame (for oil), lentils, and all kinds of food stuffs, because the rains come on time, without interruption, and across long stretches. The reason for his glorious achievements is that the land is at peace as neither old enemies rise up nor new ones emerge, because of his valor and might. A Mahārāja of such might is Śrī Dharmavamśa Těguh Anantavikrama by name. He brought auspiciousness to the land as he ordered the rendering of the Mahābhārata of Vyāsa into Javanese. He has thus initiated what has become an inspiration and enthusiasm for poets. It has become a tradition which will continue to be followed forever in the future. Svastī.”

Candi Mendut represents several genres of the written word, such as works on nīti as well as a number of Buddhist scriptures, including Pure Land and prajñāpāramitā-sūtras, tantras, and raksa texts. It is “Visual Literature”, just as a painted scroll (thanka) is “Visual Dharma” in Tibet. The Chandakarana ― a text on the art of literary compositions written under orders of the Śailendra monarch Śrī Mahāraja Jitendra ― shows his interest in promoting subjects like metrics, synonymy, vocabulary classified according to subjects, grammatical rules, literary qualities and faults to be avoided.

6 The passage runs: (Api ca). Hana ta sira ratu cakravartī/Tan pahinan kottaman ira /srddhāpagĕh inak nin rāt ri kāla nira n sinivi /vrddhi tuva h nin sarvagun a/lavan tuv uh nin sarvavīja/makādi tandula-tila-mudga-prakāra/apayan anaravatāvicchinna tibā nin hudan/alandun tanpa pramāna/anhin apa ta dumeh nin āścarya de nira? ri denya n tan tuvuh tan pasĕvĕ ripukula/de nin vīrya-pratāpa nira/kānkĕn varsā juga/Mahārāja samankana lvir nin prabhāva nira/sira ta śrī Dharmavamśa Tĕguh Anantavikrama naran ira/umilva mangala ni manjavakĕna Byāsamata/yatanyan sira tĕvĕka san kavi utsāhabuddhi/paramparā karĕnö tĕken anāgata-kāla/Svasti!

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As I have pointed out in ‘King Dharmavamśa Těguh and the Indonesian Mahābhārata’7 the Indonesian kings exerted their utmost to promote literature, philosophy and ritual. The Mahāmaramālā, which was written in Javanese on the orders of the monarch,8 begins with a solemn salutation to Śiva who is omnipresent, omniscient, supreme, the Guru of Gods.9 Śiva is saluted as the Lord of the Three Worlds and is requested to enumerate the meters.10 He is Bhatāra Paśupati.11 There is no alterity of Lord Śiva and Buddha (bhatāra Śiv a Buddha ian hana vaneh).12

A fascinating verse in vamsa-patra-patita meter from the Chandakarana (p. 171) praises the virtues of a kalana, ‘a wandering adventurer of noble birth from abroad’ (Zoetmulder).13 “This kalana who is on the lips of everybody, who is prudent in state tactics, in the art of battle-array (gēlar), firm in religious vows (brata) and rituals (viji), builder of temples (vija, Zoetmulder), appearance of....assiduously (gēn) devoted to scriptures and philosophy,....and like a bamboo leaf floating in the air he is apprehensive of being surpassed.”

Does this stanza hint to a foreign origin of the Śailendras? H. B. Sarkar associates the Śailendra with Śrīśailam in South India.

Vestibule

The exterior sidewalls of the vestibule had standing figures, three on the left (B33), three on the right (B45) and one on either side of the entranceway (B32, B46). Vestiges are still visible and at least some seem to have been goddesses.14 The interior walls of the vestibule display:

Left C9, 10 flowering plants Right C11, 12 flowering plantsC7 4 divine beings (1) C8 4 divine beings (2)C5 Hārītī C6 VaiśravanaC3 imperial couple C4 imperial coupleC1 pattern of rosettes C2 pattern of rosettes

The pattern of rosettes in C1 and C2 and the flowering plants in C9-12 are ornamental. In C3 and C4 on the interior walls of the vestibule, an imperial couple is making offerings to three treasure-filled amphorae, which indicate their ritual assurance of the flourishing trans-oceanic trade. These two reliefs show the crucial role of the economic system in the polity of the Śailendra rulers. Both the central amphorae are adorned each with a fabulous jewel tree (ratna-vrksa) which i s a heaven ly tre e i n th e Lalitavistara 11.2 and Karandavyūha 17.14. These heavenly trees point to the Śailendra kingdom in all its splendor and affluence as a veritable paradise. Relief C5 depicts the goddess of children, Hārītī, with her dear son Priya karaṅ as its central theme. Hārītī’s role at Mendut is to assure the genealogical continuity of the Śailendra

7 Chandra, Lokesh. Cultural horizons of India, Vol. VII. New Delhi: Aditya Prakashan (1998: 239-245).8 Dharmavamśa Těguh was a king in East Java from about 985. 9 Op. cit. p. 191.10 Ibid. p. 158.11 Ibid. p. 178.12 Ibid. p. 184. 13 The stanza (68) runs: ya kalana vunambhava ika gĕlĕm anaya-naya / śāstra glar brata viji vinija-vija apaja mujit / yapva ginĕn rasa nin aji tattva ya pamurukutut / lvir kadi vamśapatrapatita vĕdi karuhunana // 14The exterior cella walls at Pawon feature four female and four male divinities, presented in male-male and female-female pairs on each of the four sides of the temple.

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dynasty. She has five hundred sons, where ‘hundred’ does not connote number but is an allusion to the extraordinary physical prowess of her five sons. She reflects the pious wish of the imperial household for continuing successors.

Vaiśravana (C6) has hi s fee t o n thre e treasur e ampho rae an d represent s th e econom ic affluence of the Śailendra state. Vaiśravana is also efficacious for stabilizing the country and is placed in the northwest angle. Candi Mendut faces the northwest to ensure the stabilization of the state. The eight flying beings (C7, 8) above Hārītī and Vaiśravana have been discussed by Mark Long in Chapter Six. They stand close to the central cella, and may be guardian deities of the temple as is the case at the Sŏkkur-am cave in Korea.

The Cella

The interior of the cella is dominated by an image of Maitreya, who sits in bhadrāsana ― that is, in Bactrian (Bhadra) fashion.15 His peepal leaf halo is a fabrication of the restorers, and hence has no relevance to the image. Maitreya is a Buddhist transformation of Mithra (or Mitra), who appears on the coins of Kaniska. Mithra Invictus ― the ‘Invincible Mithra’ ― was the god of the Roman kings. The Persian prince Tiridates greeted Emperor Nero as Mithra, when the latter crowned him king of Persia. Ajita in the vocative is used in Buddhist texts in direct address to Maitreya. It means ‘unconquered.’ Ajita occurs in the Saddharma-pundarīka-sūtra, Mahāvasti and Sukhāvatīvyūha.

The Śailendra paid their obeisance to Maitreya for invincible prowess. His mudrā of dharmacakra-pravartana alludes to a cakravartin monarch, which each Śailendra sovereign was. The dynastic deity of the Dali kingdom of Yunnan was Ajeya Lokeśvara (Chinese: Acuoye Guanyin). The Candi Mendut was primarily a state temple for the perpetuation of Śailendra hegemony. Maitreya is flanked by two bodhisattvas (D2, D3), and in front are six decorated niches; could they have been a group of eight bodhisattvas?

Maitreya, the Tathāgata of Mendut, faces the northwest. In the Nispanna-yogāvalī (NSP) he is the first of the sixteen bodhisattvas and at the very beginning of the eastern row. Thus he sits in the NE and faces the NW in several mandalas in the NSP (pp. 6, 46, 50, 66). The NE corner is called Īśāna from Isana ‘lord, ruler’. It is significant that Maitreya is associated with reigning, with kingship. Maitreya and Rocana are the 7th and 1000th of the Thousand Buddhas in the Gandavyūha of the Avatamsaka sūtras. Both represent sanctified imperium, stabilization, and the prosperity of the state.16

In AD 690, Empress Wu downgraded the August Emperor and ascended the throne. The mandarins refused to accept her legitimacy as Confucianism does not accept an empress, but Buddhist monks said that as the Mahāmegha-sūtra amply expounds the golden age of an empress, she will be an incarnation of Maitreya and would govern over all of Jambudvīpa (Forte 1976:7). In 694, Empress Wu dedicated a colossi image of Maitreya in cave 130 of Tun-huang, which is known as the Northern Great Image (Whitfield 1995: 2, 310). In 742, the Sŏkkur-am Cave was constructed in Korea and Rocana of the Gandavyūha was its main image. It guards the Eastern Sea against any Japanese invasion. In 776, the Korean monk Yulsa erected a gilt bronze Maitreya that measured 40 feet in height for the national prosperity and unity of the people of Korea at the Popchusa monastery. Even in modern times, the Popchusa monastery dedicated the

15 The Mendut Buddha cannot be Śākyamuni-Vairocana according to the sitting posture. His bhadrāsana is not shared by any other Buddha. 16 See my ‘Buddhist colossi and the Avatamsaka Sūtras’ in the Cultural horizons of India, 6.32-51.

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world’s largest bronze image of Maitreya in 1991 for the unity of South and North Korea. During the 8th and 9th centuries, the spirit of an Avatamsaka Commonwealth saturated Buddhist lands. As a transnational mercantile power, the Śailendra embraced this spirit as the means for sanctifying their dominions.

Maitreya represents the Golden Age in the Avatamsaka system. Early Chinese sūtras about Maitreya dilate on the plenty of the age into which he will incarnate. His capitol will be splendid. His crown will be decorated with millions of jewels. The word Avatamsaka , which in the Divyāvadana and Avādana-sataka means “a large number”, comes from the root sams (‘to decorate’). The classical meaning of avatamsa is ‘garland, ear-ornament, crest’ (Monier-Williams). Avatamsaka was the scintillating dimension of a dharma-kingdom. The floral tapestries featuring hanging jewel garlands at Mendut are the sheen of the state sanctified by Avatamsaka values.

The eight acolytes of Maitreya have been represented at the four external corners of the cella in their full panoply. N.J. Krom (1918) has identified them as: Sarvanivaranaviskambhin (B34), Maitreya (B35), Samantabhadra (B37), Ksitigarbha (B38), Vajrapāni (B40), Mañjuśrī (B41), Khagarbha (B43) and Padmapāni (B44), but they are in need of a more detailed study in the future. Did these eight bodhisattvas make up a group of sixteen bodhisattvas with the two images and six empty niches of the cella (D2-9)?

The 37 reliefs (B1-31, 8a, 10b, 17b, 22a, 24b) are 37 wings to enlightenment (bodhipaksya dharma) as explained by Mark Long in a convincing manner. The other reliefs in the B series are:

Vestibule entrance: B32, 46 two goddesses?N corner B34 Sarvanivaranaviskambhin N corner B35 Maitreya NE wall B36 MahāpratisarāE corner B37 SamantabhadraE corner B38 Ksitigarbha SE wall B39 AvalokiteśvaraS corner B40 VajrapāniS corner B41 MañjūsrīSW wall B42 PrajñāpāramitāW corner B43 KhagarbhaW corner B44 missing - Padmapāni?Vestibule walls B33, 45 six goddesses?

I have spent scintillating moments in trying to penetrate the divine mysteries of Mendut. Its multi-textual representations in reliefs around the central image of Maitreya the Future Buddha as the Tathāgata (not a bodhisattva) exemplify the emergence of futuristic glories of life, as visualized by Śailendra monarchs. The exuberance of forms is the essence of the all-embracing metaphysical, artistic, political and social heart-mind of the Indonesians of the 9-10th centuries. Subtle and sublime mingle with the real and the realm, and bring me to thought instants of 1935. My father Professor Raghu Vira and I walked around the Central Museum, Lahore. I asked my father: “What do you talk on these statues for two long hours”? He posed a counter-question: “Do these images not converse with you?” My response then was, “How can these statues of stone speak? If they cannot speak, how will they converse?”

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The conversation came to an abrupt silence: my father immersed in the train of his thoughts on the Gandhara statues. In writing this forward, the silence of Mendut has become my manifested “store consciousness” (ālaya-vijñāna), a clear light of finite determinations of the plethora of forms, a harmonization of the secular and sacral inheritance of the Śailendras.

The Candi Mendut is the harmony and complementarity of values and governance, the interdependence of the sovereign and his subjects, the immanence of the mind and materiality of life, as it was actualized by the Śailendra monarch in their might and economy for the happiness of their people.

Mendut is a reflection of the sublime and stupendous indrajāla of the Javanese people when they attained unprecedented heights of power, when literary genius blossomed in their language of Javanese, when they enriched their lovely island with monumental structures that evoke wonder after twelve centuries, even in their ruined state. Mark Long has endeavored to interpret one of these celestial jewels, which reflects the many-splendored mind of the Indonesian people in their unique vision of compassion (maitrī of Maitreya) in the virtue of creative action. When the Buddhas of the Ten Directions patted Samantabhadra, their hands were adorned with marks of greatness. Likewise, the ocean of vows, images and concepts of the enlightened teachings enshrined in Mendut emit light and fragrance in this wondrous presentation of Mark Long, who has delved into the textual realms as well as in the infinite cosmos of astronomy, cosmology and aesthetics.

― Dr. Lokesh Chandra, New Delhi, 28 January 2009.

ReferencesChandra, Lokesh. Society and culture of Southeast Asia: continuities and changes. New Delhi: Aditya Prakashan (2000). ― ‘Chanda-Karana: The art of writing poetry’ in Cultural horizons of India. New Delhi: Aditya Prakashan (1997): [vol 6].― Cultural horizons of India. New Delhi: Aditya Prakashan (1998): [vol. 7].Forte, Antonino. Political propaganda and ideology in China at the end of the seventh century. Napoli: Istituto universitario orientale (1976).Gomez, Luis O. Land of bliss: the paradise of the Buddha of measureless light. Honolulu. University of Hawai’i Press (1966). Krom, N.J. “De bodhisattwa’s van den Mendoet.” BKI 74 (1918).Long, Mark and Voûte, Caesar. Borobudur: pyramid of the cosmic Buddha. New Delhi: DK Printworld (2008).Mevissen, Gerd J.R. “Images of Mahāpratisarā in Bengal: their iconographic links with Javanese, Central Asian and East Asian images.” Journal of Bengal Art 4 (1999): 99-129.Rhys Davids, T.W. and C.A.F., tr. Dialogues of the Buddha. London: Luzac (1966): [vol. 3].Whitfield, Roderick. Dunhuang: Caves of the singing sands: Buddhist art from the Silk Road. London: Textile and Art (1995).Zoetmulder, P. J. Old Javanese-English dictionary. The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff (1982).

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Introduction

Early Site Developments “Even without knowing how and why, everyone falls under the charm and the influence which this temple

exudes, so that without realizing it one is carried to where the artist wanted the visitor to be.”17

― J.L.A. Brandes

Prior to 1834 ― when Hartmann, the Resident of the Kedu District at the time, began to excavate the site ― none of the area’s residents fully comprehended the true nature of the hillock that had encompassed Candi Mendut. Back then, cattle still grazed on its slopes, which were overgrown with vegetation. The temple was ‘rediscovered’ soon after the site was cleared to make way for the cultivation of coffee beans, “though it must be assumed that the Javanese already knew of the existence of the ruins, as their summit partly projected from the mound of earth which hid the greater portion of the structure, and many a stone from the temple had already found useful application as building material in the neighboring villages.”18 The early removal of carved pieces, especially from the top of the structure, explains why the temple remains in an incomplete state today. Only much later did the Dutch restorers scour the neighboring communities for the carved stones that they desperately needed. Fortunately they were able to buy back approximately 120 cubic meters of old temple stones from local native homeowners at minimal prices of two or three Dutch guilders per cubic meter.

In 1838, Hartmann published a short article in which he described the three colossal images he found within the temple’s dark interior chamber, which only received any light in his time through its singular entranceway. He was able to identify Mendut’s principal image by noting the similarities between the heads of the Buddha images found at Borobudur and the head of the 14-foot-high colossus which had fallen from its original seat. However, Hartmann incorrectly considered this huge image to be a Hindu representation of Buddha as the ninth incarnation of Visnu. He also saw female physiognomies in the two somewhat smaller images he discovered on the left and right sides of the fallen Buddha and presumed in error that these two richly adorned and attired figures were those of worshipers imploring the Buddha for help.

In hindsight, the discovery of the Mendut Buddha was an extremely important event because it represents the only case in which archaeologists have recovered the principal image from any Buddhist temple dating from Java’s ‘Classic Age’ civilization, which began with the consecration of a liṅga on Gunung Wukir on 6 October 732 by King Sañjaya and came to an abrupt end about two centuries later. Archaeologists presume that the principal images at many of the other Buddhist temples dating from this period had been cast in bronze. Thus, the cash value of their raw materials would have provided the region’s natives with an economic incentive for removing them from their original places after the local population had converted to Islam.

Hartmann correctly noticed that all three Mendut images are larger than the doorway of its interior chamber, which strongly suggests that they must have been in place prior to the 17 Ook zonder te weten hoe, en ook zonder te weten waarom, komt een ieder onder de bekoring die van dezen tempel uitgaat, en onder zijnen invloed, zoodat men, zonder dat men het bespeurt, medegesleept wordt, tot daar waar de kunstenaar het publiek wilde brengen. Brandes, J. “De hoofdbeelden op de voorsprongen van den teerling der Tjandi Menddoet (Padmapani, Tara en Bhrekutitara).” NBG 40 (1902): 119.18 Van Erp, Th. "Hindu monumental art in Central Java." Twentieth century impressions of Netherlands India. London: Lloyd (1909): 143.

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construction of the temple’s body and roof. He also attributed the downfall of the Buddha image from its rightful place against the wall opposite the entranceway to the same natural catastrophe that had overcome the entire temple. The buried state of Candi Mendut was confirmation enough for Hartmann that an eruption of Mount Merapi also had been responsible for the highly deplorable condition in which Borobudur was rediscovered, a proposition in which others found considerable merit. “The little that history provides in the shape of inscribed stones lends ground to the supposition that part of Central Java was temporarily depopulated. The temples were left behind, abandoned, and presumably partly destroyed by volcanic eruptions; alluvial and atmospheric deposits, rains of ashes and other volcanic effects produced a growth of the earth’s crust, and with this was coupled the influence of the mighty tropical vegetation. This, indeed, proved to be the case as regards the Mendut temple; when in 1903 the entire clearance of the original temple site was proceeded with, the level of the latter was found to lie 2 or 3 metres below that of the kampong, which had sprung up to the north of the building. River alluvia, above all, had raised the soil here, because the ground from the foot of the Merapi has a regular downward slope to the valley of the adjoining rivers Elo and Progo. Between the alluvial deposits, a number of layers of volcanic origin were discovered.”19

The initial report from Hartmann20 was soon followed by another article in which the Reverend S. A. Buddingh likewise claimed to see female physiognomies in the two somewhat smaller images on the left and right sides of the Buddha. Buddingh also erroneously compared the colossal Mendut triad to a family scene in which the man of the house is seated nearby his spouse and their daughter and in which all three are engaged in an important domestic discussion.21 He then proceeded to relate his perceptions of the tableau within Mendut’s interior to a Javanese folk-tale then in circulation concerning a fourteenth century Javanese king. As the story goes, two years after the birth of the king’s daughter the little girl was abducted by one of the king’s servants. Twelve years later as the king was strolling in the neighborhood of where Candi Mendut now stands, the monarch encountered a beautiful 14 year old girl named Mendut. The king’s decision to take the girl as a concubine enraged the unscrupulous servant, who had stolen the girl for himself. Eventually the servant told his master that the girl was none other than the king’s own daughter.

Terrified that he would incur the wrath of the gods for having committed incest, the king asked his priests what a man who had committed such a horrendous crime must do to atone for his sins, but without naming himself as the perpetrator. The priests pronounced two means for atonement: either the culprit must be bricked up within four walls with his entire family and supplied thereafter with rice and water through an opening in the roof, or he must construct one thousand virgin images in a temple within the span of ten days. The king chose the latter course, but when the ten days had passed his efforts were still three images shy of the one thousand required. Having fallen short of the mark, the king, together with his wife and daughter, became petrified stone images and vanished from everyone’s sight ― only to reappear five hundred years later when Hartmann excavated the site.

The next detailed report on the temple to appear in print was written by the Scottish Orientalist Henry Yule (1820-1889), who was a Lieutenant-Colonel in the Bengal Engineers at the time. After visiting Central Java in 1860 he wrote about Candi Mendut as part of a lengthy

19 Ibid.20 Hartmann, “Nieuw-opgegraven oudheden in de Residentie Kadoe.” TNI (1838): 70-73. 21 Buddingh, “Djandi Mundut” [sic]. TNI (1839): 398-407.

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article on the region’s temples, which became published in 1863.22 According to Yule, the interior of the temple was choked with soil at the time of its rediscovery. “And according to the native story that was told us, the bottom was deeply covered with bat’s guano, so that the labourers employed on the offensive business of removing it got a rupee a day from Mr. Hartmann. This would seem to show that the eruption occurred long after the temple had been abandoned. The adjacent soil now stands 3 or 4 feet above the base of the building, but an area has been excavated all round to the original level....”

“The cell contains three colossal images, carved in a hard and polished granular volcanic stone probably trachyte. The central one, not less I think that 11 feet high, is a nearly naked Buddha, exceedingly well sculptured, seated in an attitude of demonstration or teaching ex cathedra. This had originally occupied an elevated place opposite the entrance, but it has fallen and now leans slanting against the wall. On either side sits, still enthroned, a mold faced male figure of somewhat smaller size, crowned and jewelled, and having the hands also raised as if in conversational action. These did not appear to represent any Hindu gods, and were without monstrosities or emblems. May they be Dharma and Sanga, the law and the church, the two other objects of Buddhist reverence? There are also six highly sculptured niches in the walls, such as usually contain crossed-legged Buddhas, but empty. There is then, in the interior, nothing inconsistent with pure Buddhism. But the exterior on each side is sculpted in relief with figures which are undoubtedly those of Hindu divinities, with their attendants....”

“The cube of the building has been surmounted by a pyramidal roof, rising in terraces apparently. But it is in too great ruin to allow of one’s determining its exact form. When perfect the temple must have been a noble structure. The material is a close-grained but not heavy volcanic stone, well cut, and very finely joined, but without mortar. It is much cracked, and whole surfaces of wall threaten to come down. This absence of mortar is common to all the ancient buildings that I visited, and the result is a degree of dilapidation far greater than age, or even perhaps earthquake, need have occasioned in structures otherwise so solid, a dilapidation which is rapidly advancing and cannot be materially retarded.”23

The next person to write extensively about Candi Mendut was the Dutch engineer Frans Carel Wilsen (1813-1889), who in 1849 received a commission from Governor-General Rochussen to produce drawings of Borobudur’s bas-reliefs and images.24 Assisted by Schönberg Muller, Wilsen spent the next four years rendering drawings of 988 of the narrative bas-reliefs at Borobudur.25 A collection of these illustrations, which was published in 1873,26 was criticized by Foucher and Krom for its inaccuracies and artistic embellishments.

Wilsen first wrote about Candi Mendut in 1853, though concerning the temple he only related a somewhat longer version of same folktale as Buddingh concerning the Javanese king and his daughter Mendut.27 However, the Dutch engineer produced a second report twenty years later that was entirely devoted to Candi Mendut28 and in which Wilsen explored several possible

22 Yule, Henry. “Notes of a brief visit to some of the Indian remains in Java.” Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal 1 (1863): 16-32.23 Ibid.24 Singleton, Esther. Great pictures as seen and described by great writers. New York: Dodd, Mead & Co (1912): 242.25 Groeneveld, Anneke, Faber, Paul. Toekang potret: 100 jaar fotografie in Nederlands Indië, 1839-1939. Rotterdam: Museum voor Land- en Volkenkunde (1989): 18.26 Leemans, Conradus and Brumund, Jan Frederik G. Boro-Boedoer op het eiland Java, afgebeeld door en onder toezigt van F.C. Wilsen. Leiden: Brill (1873).27 Wilsen, F. C. “Boro Boedoer.” TBG 1 (1853): 291-296.28 Wilsen, F. C. “De Boeddhistische Triemoerti op Java voorgesteld in den tempel te Mendoet.” TBG 20 (1873): 166-191.

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explanations for what the three colossal images in Mendut’s interior chamber might represent. For example, he noted that it would only be natural for the Buddha to be placed between two monarchs who had been the support pillars for the Buddha’s doctrine during their lifetimes. Still, Wilsen saw no way for two kings to be singled out from among the many monarchs of ancient India known to have supported the Buddhist community. Wilsen also considered the possibility that the images flanking the Buddha at Candi Mendut had been intended to represent Javanese kings, about whom almost nothing was known at that time. Indeed, the same proposal would later become made by King Chulalongkorn of Siam during his visit to Java in 1896. His Majesty thought the image with the small Buddha-figurine in his crown must represent the king of the Buddhist empire responsible for building Borobudur. “Further he supposed the other image to be the latter’s not-buddhistic father and predecessor whilst both father and son (the latter afterwards became a Buddhist), might have been honoured by their descendants who brought together the two images in this sanctuary under the blessing of the only Buddha, the redeemer of the world.”29

However, Wilsen thought it far more probable that the Mendut triad represented the Buddhist equivalent of the Hindu Trimūrti of Brahmā, Visnu and Śiva: the embodiment of the Buddhist religion (Buddha) flanked by royal personifications of the Buddha’s doctrine or law (Dharma) and the Buddhist community (Sangha). Wilsen considered royal personifications of the Dharma and the Sangha not at all unreasonable given that the Buddhist community had considered pious kings to be among the foremost guardians of the faith even though they had not abandoned their high social rank.

Fig. 1: Candi Mendut’s colossal image triad.

In Mendut’s Buddha Wilsen saw far more than a typical representation of the historical

Śākyamuni. He believed that the colossal image actually represents the Ādibuddha ― the primeval Buddha who has existed since the beginning of the world. He noted that this particular philosophical concept had become a popular belief in Nepal. “Imagine that at the beginning of

29 Groneman, I. Ruins of buddhistic temples in Praga Valley. Semarang: Benjamins (1912): 16-17.

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the world the Ādibuddha had awoken with the desire to divide himself from the singular into the plural. Having united with this desire (Prajña), the Ādibuddha became Prajña-upāya, which is to say Śiva-Śakti or Brahma-māyā....30 As soon as the wish to be multiplied had grown, five forms or beings flowed forward from it, the five Buddhas of contemplation called the Dhyāni Buddhas.”31

Wilsen considered the five forms of the Buddha in the niches at Borobudur to represent the five-fold multiplication of the intelligence of the Ādibuddha, and with all the gods of the Brahmanic religion — including the Hindu Trimūrti and the remaining world spirits of Indra’s celestial kingdom — becoming their subordinates. “And so I can end my Mendut description with the conclusion ‘that it is a building founded in remembrance and veneration of the Ādibuddha in the Buddhist triad. That here we see the concept of the Ādibuddha arise from Brahmanic gods, and Buddhism become glorified above the religion of the Brahmanic Trimūrti of Brahmā, Visnu and Śiva without having to exclude them at invocations and devotions. At Borobudur we shall again encounter the intelligence of the Ādibuddha in the Dhyāni Buddhas’.”32 As we shall see later on, Wilsen’s summation in many respects closely parallels concepts found in an Old Javanese catechism called the Sang Hyang Kamahāyānikan, which was virtually unknown to western scholars until its first translation was published by Kats in 1910.33 However, Wilsen thought that the images in the bas-reliefs on the exterior walls of the temple must be Hindu deities, which we now know is incorrect. It would take 30 more years for Mendut to become properly identified as a temple that is entirely Buddhist in nature, both inside and out. The man responsible for verifying this state of affairs would also end up exerting a great deal of influence over the restoration of Candi Mendut, for better and for worse.

Jan Laurens Andries Brandes was born on 13 January 1857 in Rotterdam, where his father was a Lutheran preacher. More than a year later the entire family moved to Amsterdam, where the young Brandes eventually followed in the footsteps of his father by taking up the study of theology. However, when a new doctorate program opened in the study of the languages of the Netherlands East Indies, Brandes seized the opportunity to pursue a different career path. According to his mentor Professor H. Kern, Brandes’ dissertation was ‘a masterpiece’ that identified the characterizing distinction between the western and eastern language groups of the archipelago.34

30 Hier denke men zich, in het begin van de wereld, Adi-Boeddha, bij wien het verlangen ontwaakte om zich uit het enkelvoudige in het meervoudige te verdeelen. Adi-Boeddha met dit verlangen (Pradjña) vereenigd, werd Pradja-oepaja, dat wil zeggen Siwa Sakti of Brahma-maja. Wilsen, F. C. “De Boeddhistische Triemoerti op Java voorgesteld in den tempel te Mendoet.” TBG 20 (1873): 178.31 Zoodra zich het verlangen van vermenigvuldiging nog meer ontwikkeld had, vloeiden vijf vormen of wezens daaruit voort, de vijf Boeddhas der beschouwelijkheid of de Dhyani Boeddhas genoemd. Ibid. See also Hodgson, Brian Houghton. Essays on the languages, literature, and religion of Nepal and Tibet: together with further papers on the geography, ethnology, and commerce of those countries. London: Trübner (1874): 42.32 En zoo kan ik mijne beschrijving, Mendoet, met de conclusie besluiten: ‘Dat het een bouwwerk is, ter herinnering en vereering van Adi-Boeddha in de boeddhistische driekorf opgerigt. Dat wij hier de idee van Adi-Boeddha, uit brahmanische godheden zien voortkomen, en het Boeddhisme, boven de godsdienst van de Brahmanische triemoerti, Brahma, Wisjnoe en Civa, verheerlijkt wordt, zonder deze, bij aanroepingen en gebeden, te willen uitsluiten.’ Op Boro Boedoer zullen wij de intelligentien van Adi-Boeddha, in de Dhyani Boeddhas, terugvinden. TBG 20 (1873): 191. 33 Kats, J. editor. Sang Hyang Kamahāyānikan: Oud-Javaansche tekst met inleiding, vertaling en aanteekeningen. 's-Gravenhage: Nijhoff (1910).34 Kern, H. “Levensbericht van J.L.A. Brandes.” Jaarboek van de Maatschappij der Nederlandsche Letterkunde. Leiden: Brill (1906: 30-51) as cited in Maier, Hendrik M.J. and Teeuw, A. Honderd jaar studie van Indonesië 1850-1950: levensbeschrijvingen van twaalf Nederlandse onderzoekers. Den Haag: Smits (1976): 17.

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In 1885, Brandes accepted the offer of the position of scientific officer from the Netherlands East Indies for the express purpose of furthering the study of Javanese linguistics, history and archaeology.35 While still a student at Leiden, Brandes had taken up the study of Indian epigraphy as well as Old Javanese,36 which Batavia recognized as the requisite skills required for investigating the rich collection of Old Javanese manuscripts and inscriptions on copperplates and stone that had been gathering dust in the Batavia Museum. Once ensconced in the museum library, Brandes proceed to examine and catalog the extensive materials on hand ― an effort which culminated in 1887 with the publication by Brandes of a special supplement to W.P. Groeneveldt’s Archaeological Catalog.37 Kern would later say that this supplement provided all the proof required that Brandes was up to the task of handling archaeological issues.

Brandes’ activities also extended well beyond the confines of the Batavia Museum library. In 1894 he accompanied a Dutch military expedition to the island of Lombok,38 where he recovered the Nāgarakrtāgama by the court poet and historian Prapañcā. Without this work, which is dedicated to describing the East Javanese kingdom of Majapahit at the height of its prosperity and its glory, we would know far less about this particular period in the history of the island.

Brandes’ goal of saving objects of cultural interest from destruction was not limited to manuscripts and stone inscriptions. It was obvious to many people living in Central Java at that time that the island’s architectural treasures also needed saving. Unfortunately, it was no easy matter to obtain funds from the government for this purpose. “The neglect of the ancient monuments of Java has been nothing short of scandalous, the evil effects of the habitual languid detachment of the colonial authorities from the business they are supposed to look after, being, in their case, intensified by acts of dilapidation which even a Government centuries back on the road of enlightenment would have checked, not to speak of downright plunder and theft.”39

It was not until 1893, when the deterioration of Candi Mendut’s exterior partition-walls had begun to accelerate, that the Dutch colonial authorities felt compelled to appropriate the necessary funds to prevent further collapse of the ruin. The initial excavation of the temple had removed the protective barrier of the surrounding earth, which had prevented the damaged temple from falling apart under its own weight for perhaps several hundred years. Absent the support of the hillock that formerly had embraced the temple, the stress that the roof placed on the temple body below it was making walls buckle, thus threatening priceless sculptural elements with irreversible damage.

The obvious solution for preventing Mendut’s collapse was to remove the roof and thereby alleviate the pressure. To prevent falling stones from damaging the colossal images within the cella’s interior, J. Nuhout Van der Veen, a public works engineer, decided to fill the cella’s

35 Nieuw Nederlandsch biografisch woordenboek, Leiden: Sijthoff (1911).36 A clergyman (predikant) named Jan Brandes who had some ties with the Bataviaasch Genootschap van Kunsten en Wetenschappen had lived in Batavia during 1779-1785 (see Groot, Hans. Van Batavia naar Weltevreden. Het Bataviaasch Genootschap van Kunsten en Wetenschappen, 1778-1867. Leiden: KITLV (2009): 28 [VKI 243]). “It would not surprise me if this was ‘our’ Brandes’ grandfather. Many Dutch families had long-standing family ties with the Indies, such as of Caesar Voûte and Netscher. My grandfather Jordaan went to the Netherlands East Indies following in his elder brother’s footsteps. It would help to explain Brandes’ switching to Indian and Indonesian languages when the opportunity first presented itself.” Roy Jordaan, personal communication. 37 Brandes, J. “Aanteekeningen omtrent de op verschillende voorwerpen voorkomende inscripties en een voorloopige inventaris der beschreven steenen” in Groeneveldt, W.P. Catalogus der Archaeologische Verzameling van het Bataviaasch Genootschap van Kunsten en Wetenschappen. Batavia: Albrecht (1887).38 Tarling, Nicholas. Nationalism in Southeast Asia. London: Routledge (2004):228.39 Scheltema, J.F. Monumental Java. London: MacMillan (1912): x.

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interior chamber with sand to a height of 1.70 meters, wrap the sculptural portions located above the sand with organic materials, and then further protect the protruding parts that remained by erecting a one meter high barrier over the entire ensemble. Van der Veen, who Brandes would later laud as the “Man of Mendut,” also designed the complex wood scaffolding in 1894 that the restorers would later put to good use when the time came to clear rubble from the roof, which had suffered extensive damage.40

In 1896, Brandes submitted a plan to the Batavian Academy of Arts and Sciences that called for the preparation of a complete survey of the temple, together with the production of all the photos and architectural drawings required to adequately plan the reconstruction effort at Candi Mendut. The surveyors’ extensive notes, drawings and photographs, were completed in 1897 and published in 1903.41

Even earlier, the surrounding land had been “excavated over a large area, and, in addition to the ruins of a minor temple discovered as early as 1896, the foundations of the former enclosure were lighted upon. The latter consisted of a wall of red brick enclosing a rectangular space of 110 meters in length and 50 meters in width. Within this enclosure, remains are still found of a brick building which may have been another temple or the habitation of priests, also a basement in the form of a cross with equal arms, entirely made of red brick (see fig. 2). No distinct remains or traces of entrance gates in the enclosing wall were discovered.”42

Restoration efforts began at Candi Mendut under the direction of B. W. Van de Kamer in November 1896. It is not totally clear what precisely was carried out during the first years of this program other than some speedy intervention activities that drew serious criticism from Brandes, who was quickly developing a reputation among his peers for having gained considerable insight into Javanese architecture, ornamentation and iconography. “And there we came to know Brandes from an altogether new side; precisely in studying the construction of the monument he not only derived benefits from his perceptive mind, but he also displayed an architectural talent, an understanding of the construction of the old buildings, which one would not have expected of him, the ‘armchair scholar’.”43

Brandes’ reputation had been enhanced in 1887 when he published an important article concerning the contents of a stone inscription he had discovered in the yard of the Resident of Yogyakarta.44 This proved to be an edict written in Sanskrit that mentions the founding of a temple dedicated to the Mahāyāna Buddhist goddess Tārā. The inscription refers to a Buddhist cloister in the village of Kalaśa. This enabled Brandes to link the edict with the village of Kalasan and its nearby temple on the outskirts of modern-day Yogyakarta.

Brandes’ article on this inscription proved to be extremely important in several respects. The philologist had uncovered the first instance of a reference to the Śailendra royal dynasty, which scholars credit with the construction of the more prominent Buddhist temples in Central Java beginning with Candi Kalasan in 778 CE.

40 Bernet Kempers, A. J. Herstel in eigen waarde. Monumentenzorg in Indonesië. Zutphen: De Walburg Pers (1978): 52. 41 Kersjes, B. and Den Hamer, C. Mendoet voor de restauratie. Batavia: Bataviaasch Genootschap voor Kunsten en Wetenschappen (1903). 42 Van Erp, Th. "Hindu monumental art in Central Java." Twentieth century impressions of Netherlands India. London: Lloyd (1909): 144.43 En daar leerden wij Brandes van een geheel nieuwe zijde kennen; niet alleen kwam juist bij het bestudeeren van den bouw der monumenten zijn scherp opmerkingsvermogen hem uitstekend te stade, maar bovendien toonde hij een architectonisch talent, een inzicht in de constructie dier oude bouwwerken, welke men in hem, den ‘kamergeleerde’ niet zou hebben vermoed. From "In Memoriam" by Dr. G.A.J. Hazeu, in Weekblad voor Indië, No. 23 (1905): 406-409. 44 Jordaan, Roy. “The Tara temple of Kalasan in Central Java.” BEFEO (1998): 163.

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Fig. 2: The layout of the walled enclosure in which Candi Mendut is located.

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The article by Brandes also clearly revealed the type of Buddhism that had been practiced during the late eighth century in Central Java. He would later propose identifications for several of the deities depicted on Mendut’s exterior walls based entirely on what was then known about the Mahāyāna Buddhist pantheon. Last, but not least with respect to Brandes’ career, the article added to his growing reputation as a rising star among the various personalities who were then attempting to exert influence over the management of Java’s archaeological remains. “Since Tārā is the well-known name of a female being who ― together with her male counterpart, the Bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara ― particularly enjoyed veneration in the Mahāyāna branch of the Buddhist church, so it definitely follows from the inscription that already in the eighth century of our era Mahāyānism had penetrated into Java. Furthermore, the fact that the inscription is written in Nagari, the current script in northern India, furnishes the proof that Buddhists from northern India were involved in the construction of the sanctum. Although in his translation Brandes was wrong in some points, in the main he gave a correct explanation of the Sanskrit poem, which one can consider as the foundation charter of the sanctum dedicated to Tārā.”45

Though plans to save Mendut from further deterioration had been submitted to the government in Batavia as far back as 1862,46 at the end of the nineteenth century Candi Mendut “was still in a very deplorable condition. The masonry of the foundation and the body of the building was greatly displaced, the cornice and a great part of the roof ornamentation had fallen; the crowning piece of the portico had disappeared, the vault of the roof on the entrance side was on the point of collapse. The strong boards of the staircases had partially disappeared. The great image of Buddha in the interior chamber was [still] dethroned and partly sunken in the floor. The throne itself had evidently been completely stripped by treasure hunters.”47

The year 1901 proved to be a pivotal time for both Candi Mendut and Brandes, who replaced Van de Kamer as the supervisor of Mendut’s restoration and assumed responsibility for the reconstruction of Candi Pawon ― a small temple just off the road connecting Mendut with Borobudur. Later that year the Netherlands East Indies government appointed the philologist to a new Commission for Archaeological Research in Java and Madura that Brandes would lead until his untimely death in 1905. Though the Commission was “without a single trained archaeologist among its members”48 it nonetheless displayed a good deal of activity under Brandes, including the exploration of East Java and the restoration of Candi Tumpang, as well as undertaking extensive preparations for the restoration of Borobudur, Pawon and Mendut.

The arrival of Brandes at Candi Mendut in 1901 quickly led to new discoveries at the site. “Suffering from dizziness, Van de Kamer had never ventured onto the unreliable roof himself. Brandes, to all appearances an armchair scholar, thought differently about this: he wanted to see 45 Aangezien Tara de welbekende naam is van een vrouwelijk wezen, dat evenals haar mannelijke tegenhanger, de Bodhisattwa Awalokiteçwara, een bijzondere vereering geniet in de Mahayanistische afdeeling der Buddhistische Kerk, zoo volgde uit de inscriptie met zekerheid dat reeds in de 8ste eeuw onzer jaartelling het Mahayanisme op Java was doorgedrongen. Verder leverde de omstandigheid dat de inscriptie in Nagari, de in Noordelijk Indië gebruikelijke schriftsoort, geschreven is, het bewijs, dat Buddhisten uit Noordelijk Indië bij den bouw van 't heiligdom betrokken zijn geweest. Hoewel Brandes bij zijn vertaling in enkele punten mistastte, gaf hij een in hoofdzaak juiste verklaring van 't Sanskrit gedicht, dat men als de stichtingsoorkonde van het aan Tara gewijde heiligdom kan beschouwen. H. Kern, “Levensbericht van J.L.A. Brandes.” Jaarboek van de Maatschappij der Nederlandsche Letterkunde. Leiden: Brill (1906): 36.46 See Stutterheim, W.F. “De oudste restauratieplannen voor Tjandi Mendoet.” OV 1924, Bijlage O. Weltevreden: Albrecht; ‘s-Hage: Nijhoff (1925): 148-151. 47 Van Erp, Th. "Hindu monumental art in Central Java." Twentieth century impressions of Netherlands India. London: Lloyd (1909): 143-144.48 Scheltema, J.F. Monumental Java. London: MacMillan (1912): 17.

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with his own eyes what there still was to see. Someone, who had seen him busy up there, wrote: ‘How that slender built man endured the experience, going and standing, walking and tripping (in the temple area, the latter activity will probably have been measuring by foot), climbing and clambering up and down that ruin ― at times on solid ground, in other instances on an unstable floor, on half broken and complete stones ― remains an enigma to me.’ Thanks to his personal inspection, however, several matters came to light that previously had gone unnoticed, including the flaws in the restoration.”49

Brandes’ adventures on top of the temple enabled him to quickly realize that the roof was doubled, i.e., he found a second roof that was encompassed within a stone sheath. “On the northeast side of the temple, this is absolutely clear and very easy to see on the scaffolding. [It] is no less clear when one climbs onto the roof [and] sees from above the broken or serrated line, which indicates the exterior-side of the roof in its old state. Whenever this is possible, one can everywhere see the transverse sections of the numerous small vertical step-like slots that are affixed to the exterior wall. They provide an easy guidance for anyone who wants to inspect and follow the shape of the first storey of the roof, of which only one and a half storeys remains. It is, in my opinion, a truly remarkable thing that when the scaffold had been erected beside the ruins of the temple, which made the inspection of the roof so much easier and safer, it was not immediately understood what anyone with little common sense would have noted directly and which would have altered the handling of the temple during the work of reconstruction [namely, the restorer’s reinforcement of the walls prior to having taken an opportunity to fully inspect their original state]. As further investigation of the old encased temple is nearly impossible because the encasement over the body of the old temple was almost totally refitted with the aid of cement that prevents the undamaged removal of the stones, the only way that is left for further research is the opening up of the sub-basement.”50

When the restorers removed a small section of the sub-basement’s stone casing, a red-brick segment of the old sub-basement (fig. 3) came to light that was divided into the same sort of

49 Bernet Kempers, A. J. Herstel in eigen waarde. Monumentenzorg in Indonesië. Zutphen: De Walburg Pers (1978): 51-60. 50 Op het noord-oostzijde van den tempel is dit, op den stijger [sic], volslagen duidelijk, en zeer gemakkelijk te zien. Niet minder in het oog loopend vertoont zich, als men op het dak is geklommen, van boven gezien, de gebroken of gekartelde lijn, die de buitenzijde van het dak, in zijn ouden toestand, aangeeft. De vele vertikale trapjesgleuven, die in dien buitenwand waren aangebracht, ziet men, in een horizontale doorsnede, overal waar dit maar even kan, en zij zijn een gemakkelijk geleider bijv. voor iemand, die den contour van de onderste verdieping van het dak, waarvan nog maar anderhalve verdieping staat, wil volgen en aanschouwen. En het is dan ook, in mijne meening, een zeer opmerkelijk verschijnsel, dat, althans toen eenmaal de stijger, die het bekijken van het dak zoo gemakkelijk en ongevaarlijk maakt, om de ruine was geplaatst, niet oogenblikkelijk doorzien is wat met een weinig gezond verstaan een ieder dadelijk had kunnen opmerken. En de behandeling van de tjandi tijdens de restauratie zou een zoo geheele andere zijn geweest. Daar het verdere onderzoek naar den ouden ondertempel vrijwel onmogelijk was, omdat de mantel om het lichaam van den ouden tempel ten naastebij geheel herplaatst was, onder gebruikmaking van cement, wat belette de steenen weder af te nemen zonder ze te breken, was de eenige weg om de zaak verder te onderzoeken en te constateeren een openen van het soubassement. Brandes, J. "Nadere mededeelingen over de Tjandi Mendoet." NBG 40 (1902): 141-143. “Trapjesgleuven probably refer to small step-like slots or grooves in the stones in the exterior wall.... With the aid of these grooves as guiding lines you can follow the contour or shape of the separate storeys of the roof, of which only one and a half is still intact. What Brandes means by the transverse section is not quite clear. My guess is that the stepped character of the grooves becomes visible to anyone who looks at the grooves from below and thus looks into the grooves seeing their horizontal make-up (and their step-like features). It seems to me that you first see (=aanschouwen) and then follow (volgen) the shape of the roof with the aid of these markers.” Roy Jordaan, personal communication.

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ledges and band combinations that are seen on the sub-basement’s exterior in stone form. The restorers also determined through drilling that the old red-brick sub-basement extended at least two meters behind the inside border of the stone sub-basement exterior, from which Brandes surmised that the substructure of the entire temple and its foundation had likewise been built using the same material. However, Brandes noted that the older temple encased within Mendut’s stone sheath was not entirely finished, as demonstrated by the fact that no decorative elements had been introduced, or at least as far as he was able to determine given his limited access to the earlier structure.

Fig. 3: The older temple inside Candi Mendut.

Several notable achievements occurred at Mendut while Brandes was supervising the restoration efforts conducted by Van de Kamer and P. J. van der Ham. For example, the temple’s sub-basement and cella — together with what still remained in place from the roof overhead — were adjusted and strengthened. Through the efforts of Van der Ham, the colossal image of the Buddha was returned to an upright position on a restored throne bearing the date 1903, the monument’s staircase wings were restored and the molded patterns, tooth bands, hemispheres and cornices that give such a distinctive shape to the sub-basement — and which also mirror the design of Borobudur’s hidden foot — were returned to their proper alignments. This last achievement Brandes praised as enormously energetic, charming, and at the same time remarkably graceful.51

51 Brandes, J. “De hoofdbeelden op de voorsprongen van den teerling der Tjandi Mendoet (Padmapani, Tara en Bhrekutitara).” NBG 40 (1902): 119-120.

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Brandes was such a firm believer in the value of proper and beneficial restoration activities that his strong opinions at times brought him into conflict with other participants in the field, such as we have already seen was the case concerning his relationship with Van de Kamer. Brandes also was highly critical of Isaac Groneman for failing to segregate the stones that had fallen off of various structures at Prambanan, which the philologist rightly pointed out would lead to difficulties later on when it came time to restore the temple.52 He also blamed Groneman for withholding funds and supplying ‘quasi-information’ that he implied might have allowed Mendut’s oldest structural components to have become discovered at an earlier date.53

Groneman is also not likely to have won Brandes’ approval for his role in chaperoning the King of Siam for three days when the monarch visited Borobudur, Mendut and Pawon in July of 1896. King Chulalongkorn (Rama V) requested and was granted permission to remove several ox carts full of Hindu and Buddhist antiquities from Java ― including several bas-reliefs and Buddha images from Borobudur, and the temple’s only surviving dvarapāla image ― which the monarch took back to Thailand. “The King’s acquisition of Buddhist images and reliefs served a symbolic political purpose. By installing the images in the royal temples of Wat Phra Kaeo and Wat Bowoniwet in Bangkok, he demonstrated to the faithful his ability as a Buddhist monarch to successfully deal with a European colonial power.”54

However, others have rightfully criticized Brandes for adopting restoration techniques that extended well beyond preserving what actually had been found. For example, one of the makaras on the throne of the Buddha (fig. 4) is a modern fabrication that displays the date of its manufacture, 1902, as is also the case with some of the temple’s makara waterspouts. Moreover, the nimbus behind the head of the Buddha image within Mendut is a total fabrication that is based on the design of the halos behind the heads of the bodhisattva figures. This occurred despite the fact there was not a shred of evidence that the image ever displayed this form behind its head, though two stone blocks that project from the room’s back wall do at least indicate that an aureole of some type had been placed there separate from the image itself.55

Furthermore, there is no certainty that the small relief depicting a wheel flanked by two deer on the front face of the low platform supporting the Buddha’s throne had originally gone here. One suspects from all this that Brandes was concerned more with the aesthetics of the final product than he was with maintaining impeccable historical accuracy.56 Still, matters could have been far worse. The initial restoration activities carried out through 1904 were restricted for the most part to the most urgent preservation measures. The basement and interior of the temple were restored to their original states, and the cornice of the cella-body was repaired up to and including its underpinning support.

52 Brandes, J. “Het dak van Tjandi Pawon, en de daken der hoofdtempels te Prambanan.” NBG 42 (1904): 21-22.53 Brandes, J. "Nadere mededeelingen over de Tjandi Mendoet." NBG 40 (1902): 143.54 Suharto, Imtip Pattajoti. Journeys to Java by a Siamese king. Bangkok, Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Thailand (2001): 75-77. The attitude of the Dutch Indies colonial government with respect to Javanese antiquities was also deplorable. "To foster diplomatic ties with Siam by giving away objects which were not theirs in the first place, but of the Javanese (who probably had no say in the matter at all). But, of course, the Dutch were not unique in this. In much the same way many Khmer artifacts ended up in British and Dutch museums because of French ‘generosity’." Roy Jordaan, personal communications.55 To wit: the “...stone blocks projecting from the back wall above the railing of the throne, the purpose of which was to provide a fixed support for the nimbus to prevent its falling against the wall.” Brandes (1904:162) as translated by Roy Jordaan in “The Tārā temple of Kalasan in Central Java.” BEFEO 85 (1998): 167.56 For an overview of the evolution of restoration ethics, see Long, Mark and Voûte, Caesar. Borobudur: pyramid of the cosmic Buddha. New Delhi: DK Printworld (2008): 158-161.

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In parallel with the ongoing restoration efforts, Brandes began to consider just how to conduct a far more ambitious restoration of the ruin, for which he had proposed a time-frame and an implementation schedule. Among other things, his work plan called for the reconstruction of the collapsed vestibule as well as the replacement of the missing third roof stage and crowning great stūpa. Brandes’ proposed restoration activities also would have included a small window above the entranceway that would have allowed light to illuminate the Buddha’s face; the temple roof would have reflected an uncertain octagonal design based in part on what is indeed the case at Candi Kalasan; and the portal’s roof would have embodied inaccuracies as well.

Fig. 4: The throne for the Buddha image at Candi Mendut.

However, in 1904 the government refused to provide further restoration funds for Candi Mendut and the philologist’s death in June of 1905 ended whatever chance remained that his personal vision of how the temple had originally appeared would ever become implemented. In hindsight, the limitations imposed on Brandes due to a lack of government funding was a blessing in disguise. That said, his death at the age of 48 was a tremendous loss, as is evident from the great expanse of subject matter that he covered in the numerous articles, surveys and translations that he produced over the course of his prolific and influential career.

When conservation efforts were resumed at the temple in May of 1908, the management of the work was assigned to Theodoor van Erp (1874-1958), who was already leading the restoration effort at Borobudur. However, as the Dutch Minister of the Colonies continued to refuse to fund a full reconstruction effort at Candi Mendut, Van Erp’s efforts were limited to

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undertaking only those measures that were absolutely necessary for conserving the portions of the structure still standing in their original places.57

Born in Laren, North Holland on 26 March 1874, Theodoor Van Erp had arrived in the East Indies archipelago in 1896 to participate in the Dutch war with Aceh as an officer in the corps of engineers. Following his promotion to first lieutenant58 Van Erp was later transferred to the city of Magelang in Central Java. At the recommendation of two Dutch Army generals, in 1900 he became appointed to the committee then considering how best to restore Borobudur. The president of this committee of course was none other than Brandes.

The usefulness of Van Erp’s engineering expertise became readily apparent in 1901 when he discovered that a previously unknown relationship still existed between Borobudur, Candi Mendut and Candi Pawon. A survey team led by Van Erp had set up a a theodolite at the mid-point of the great stūpa on top of Borobudur to monitor the building’s layout with respect to the compass points. When the team moved the theodolite to focus on the roof of Candi Mendut some three kilometers away, the huge randu alas tree that still towered over Candi Pawon at that time fell precisely in the cross-hairs of the scope. His examination of a new set of topographic maps confirmed the observation that all three temples were actually situated in one straight line. Though Van Erp later admitted that this state of affairs could be purely accidental, he did not think this likely given the local tradition concerning the former existence of a paved way between Borobudur and Mendut that had been bordered on both sides by walls that were lined with small chapels featuring niches for images. Moreover, the possibility that this legend was based on actual fact was further reinforced by the discovery of the remnants of a building on the left bank of the Progo River, right at the place where the old crossing would have most likely been located.59

In 1908, legislative planners in the Netherlands allocated f6800 to fund the repair services that were then urgently needed at Candi Mendut.60 The labor was to be completed in one year’s time and Van Erp was tapped to supervise the effort. The complex wooden scaffolding designed by Van der Veen had been disassembled in 1906 because it was no longer structurally sound. So Van Erp ordered another one to be constructed, this time out of less expensive bamboo. Under his supervision, the parts of the porch still standing were removed and repaired. And to restore the temple body’s cornice he scoured the neighboring communities for missing components, recovering a significant number of pieces in the process. Though the original cornices of the roof stages had disappeared, their altitude could still be designated for the building. Moreover, numerous stone fragments retrieved from the neighboring desas proved the correctness of his reconstruction on paper.

With respect to the stūpas that originally had graced the temple’s roof, Van Erp would only be able to replace a pair on the southwest face of the first tier due to funding limitations. Though satisfied with the final results overall, he admitted that the roof, which he compared to a plucked bird deprived of its plumage, still had an unfinished appearance. Still, he thought the discrepancy

57 Van Erp, Th. “Tjandi Mendoet.” TBG 51 (1909): 477-493.58 Van Erp would later be promoted on two more occasions to captain and major.59 Van Erp, Th. “De onderlinge ligging van Borobudur, Mendut en Pawon en hunne orienteering.” TBG 53 (1911): 582-585.60 According to Van Erp (1909), the Dutch government decisions of 16 July 1896 No. 26; 30 June, 1898; No. l, 27 July, 1899; No. 21, 14 July 1902; No. 28, 29 November, 1906; No. 10, 1 May, 1908; No. 18 had successively alloted funds amounting to f8600, f7335, f25142, f4274 (excavation), f350 (demolish scaffold), and f6800. Apart from other additional costs for staff, it cost the government more than f52000 to restore the collapsed structure of the temple.

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did not come nearly as much from the lack of the roof’s third stage and crowning stūpa as it did from what continues to be missing from the now repaired portions of the lower roof stages.

But as Krom (1923) would later lament, the advantages derived from the Dutch engineer’s efforts hardly outweigh the drawbacks, because they transformed the temple into a somewhat squat building, giving the impression that all has not been completed. “Indeed, in no way has it yet acquired the advantages which the fully executed reconstruction would have yielded for what in charm it had to relinquish. Imagine that the things now lost ― the missing portal, the highest roof stage, the crowning large bell-shaped stūpa, [and] above all the small bells for the roof storeys ― had all been completed, then one would have recovered the tall form of the old sanctuary and the original silhouette effects, and have been in a position to consider what this temple once looked like ― except for the obviously impossible to reconstruct ornamentation of the newly fabricated parts ― and therefore how the architect had intended that the monument would have been perceived by the visitor. The present incomplete reconstruction is in every respect disappointing.”61

Nevertheless, Van Erp’s approach to the restoration of what he rightly called the enfant chéri among the temples of Central Java proved to be highly beneficial for several reasons. In the Dutch engineer’s opinion, Candi Mendut’s first restoration team had wrongfully regarded an opening that appeared in an old photograph to be evidence of the former existence of a window above the entranceway to the temple’s interior space. Had it been implemented, Brandes’ restoration plan of 1904 would have led to the introduction of two small openings in the walls to either side of the collapsed vestibule, which would have allowed light to illuminate the interior of the cella. Van Erp subsequently demonstrated that these two openings would have been partially obstructed by the vestibule roof and thus were unlikely to have been implemented for the purpose of illuminating the temple’s interior. He also observed that the breach had been introduced in the open space in the portal’s protective covering, right above the doorway’s stretched beam. Van Erp deemed it probable, although not absolutely certain, that this structure had originally served as a restraint for relieving stresses imposed by the temple’s vaulted roof, a functional architectural element not dissimilar to what he said may be observed as the state of affairs at Candi Bima on the Dieng Plateau in Central Java.62

Van Erp also took issue with Brandes’ belief that the top stage of Mendut’s roof must have been been an octagon, with the roof of Candi Kalasan having served as the guiding principle. At Kalasan the highest roof stage between the underlying quadrant and the large crowning stūpa has eight sides, which is also the case with respect to the smaller Buddhist construction works at Candi Sewu. However, the octagonal transition at Candi Lumbung, Van Erp noted, starts at the level of the first stage. The drawing below (fig. 5) compares the respective plans of Brandes (top) and Van Erp (bottom).

61 Immers het heeft nog in geenen deele de voordelen verkregen, welke de ten einde gevoerde reconstructie geschonken zou hebben, als een gedeeltelijke vergoeding voor wat het aan bekoring moest missen. Stelt men zich voor, dat het thans ontbrekende, het portaal, de hoogste dakverdieping, de bekronende groote klokstoepa, bovenal de kleine klokken om de dakverdiepingen heen, dat dit alles was aangevuld. Dan zou men de rijzige gedaante van het oude heiligdom en de oorspronkelijke silhouetwerking weder terug hebben en zich rekenschap kunnen te geven, hoe deze tempel zich, afgescheiden van de natuurlijk onmogelijk te herstellen ornamentatie der nieuw gemaakte deelen, heeft voorgedaan, en hoe dus de bouwmeester bedoeld heeft, dat het monument op den beschouwer zou werken. Een halve reconstructie als de thans toegepaste stelt echter in alle opzichten te leur. Krom, N. J. Inleiding tot de Hindoe-Javaansche kunst. 's-Gravenhage: Nijhoff (1923) [ vol. I].62 Van Erp, T. “Het lichtgat in den voorwand van Tjandi Mendoet.” TBG 52 (1910): 109-122.

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Fig. 5: The roof at Candi Mendut: according to Brandes (top) and Van Erp (bottom).

Van Erp noted that he was unable to find any angled pieces from this part of the monument which could have provided an indication that an eight-sided design had indeed been used given that an octagonal support structure must produce angles of 135 degrees at the corners. On the other hand, there were numerous fragments on hand from the roof that indicated the former presence of a quadrant with a projection. He also pointed to Candi Pawon ― which he regarded as a diminished copy of Mendut in every respect ― where the upper stage of the roof has the same shape as the lower. Still, Van Erp ended his discussion of the state of affairs at Candi Mendut by saying that if the initial restorers had possessed the same data that he had subsequently gathered by acquiring more stones from the building he was convinced that they would have shared his opinions on the layout of the third stage.

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Fig. 6: Van Erp’s reconstruction on paper of the temple’s original design (1909).

The third roof stage featured in Van Erp’s side-view drawing (fig. 6) gives the appearance of being taller than in the drawing that Brandes had drafted based on an octagonal design. He also noticed that the stūpas on the third roof stage would have appeared to be smaller due to perspective effects if an octagon design had been used. Though none of Van Erp’s arguments are enough to demonstrate that his approach is the correct one, the sum is certainly more than sufficient to indicate that the available data was insufficient for allowing the roof of the temple to be reconstructed with certainty. Furthermore, Van Erp raised an important objection concerning Brandes’ reconstruction design for the temple’s front porch (fig. 7), feeling confident that the original designer must have included an intervening support structure between the decorated bases of the keben pinnacles and the decorated band on the cornices.

Coined by Knebel, the term63 keben refers to the distinctive shape of these roof ornaments, which is similar to the fruit (keben-keben) of a native tree (Barringtonia asiatica). “Fruit is 10-15 cm wide, cubic, with a broad square base, tapering towards the tip like a truncated pyramid, first

63 Moens thought these architectural ornaments were symbolic of the kailaśa pot: “The front portal was also adorned in the typically South Indian Shaivaite manner with kalasha (amrita vessel) instead of a stūpa, in contrast to the Mendut itself” (see the translation of this article from TBG 84, 1951 online at www.borobudur.tv). Van Erp called them ratnas, ‘jewels.’ See Van Erp, Th. “Eenige beschouwingen omtrent de beteekenis der sculpturen, deel uitmakende van Tjandi Pawon’s uitwendige versiering.” TBG 53 (1911): 585.

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green, then going brown; has two persistent calyx lobes. They contain one large seed and a tough, corky-fibrous husk to which it owes its buoyancy.”64

Several examples of an intervening support structure such as the one Van Erp envisioned for use here were found within the temple’s environs. Van Erp agreed with the placement for these ornaments as proposed by Brandes, but noted that the earlier plan lacked the requisite transitional body underneath them.

Fig. 7: Brandes’ restoration plan for the portal, top and front views (1904).

64 Source: Food and Agricultural Organization of the United Nations, www.fao.org. See also the drawing in Whitlen, Tony; Soeriaatmadja; and Afitt, Suraya. The ecology of Java and Bali. Hong Kong: Periplus (1966): 376.

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Van Erp restricted his restoration ideas to the architect’s drawing board. At Borobudur, for example, he refrained from completing the spire on the top of the monument’s crowning stūpa even though he felt that he had a correct understanding of its structure. But there were too many parts missing between the spire’s base and octagonally shaped pinnacle for him to be absolutely certain. Likewise at Candi Mendut, he limited his restoration ideas for the portal to drawings because too many stones from the body of the structure had gone lost and thus not enough original materials remained to support the considerable weight of the roof. It was clear to everyone that he had a high degree of respect for builders of Borobudur, Candi Mendut and other temples dating from the Central Javanese period, which only led him all the more to strive to save what he could of what still stood, as well as clearly define the difference between what was original and what had become modified. Nevertheless, he appeared to have mixed emotions concerning the correctness of his actions. More than once in the presence of A. J. Bernet Kempers (1976), Van Erp referred to himself as the “great desecrater,” much to Kempers’ discomfort.

Van Erp’s appreciation of, and immense respect for, Candi Mendut’s builders comes clearly through in his description of the temple, which he thought must have been extraordinarily beautiful originally. He noted that its pyramidal form rises in several stages in the Dravidian style, thereby always rejuvenating itself, until finally terminating in a massive stūpa crown at the top. “The profile is purely classical, containing between ogives and towers a beautiful row of dentals, the whole of strikingly happy proportions. The basement bears the stamp of solidity in keeping with its function of serving as support for the entire structure. This base is followed by a high frieze, divided into panels by smooth pilasters. The pilasters themselves are in turn divided by vertical lines into projections and recesses, which preserves the slenderness of the frieze and gives rise to a delicate shade effect beside the peaceful shadows of the horizontal profiles....the pilasters are smooth, but at the side of the entrance there is one worked pilaster which shows that the temple remained incomplete as regards its ornamentation” which is also evident “in other parts of the structure....”65 The temple’s horizontal lines dominate as well, he noted, with the encircling serene bands of the profiling only interrupted by the kāla-makara motives located at the top and middle of the niche frameworks, which he said one may more correctly call vaulted niches because they are very shallow and contain some carved elements. Van Erp observed that their purpose is to break and revive the grayness of the domineering horizontal lines with their shadowed back walls well placed for embellishing the strong outlines of the stūpas in front.66

65 Van Erp, Th. "Hindu monumental art in Central Java." Twentieth century impressions of Netherlands India. London: Lloyd (1909): 144-145.66 Van Erp, Th. “Tjandi Mendoet.” TBG 51 (1909): 477-493.

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Fig. 8: Maps of Central Java and the Prambanan Plain (Krom, 1923).

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Acknowledgments

I would like to express my gratitude for the dedicated efforts of the early Dutch researchers who have contributed so much to our understanding of Candi Mendut and Candi Pawon. In particular, I would like to emphasize that the descriptive surveys that appear in the opening two chapters of the present work owe a great deal to earlier observations made by Kersjes and Den Hamer (1903), Krom (1923) and Van Erp (1911). Furthermore, parts of Chapter VI draw extensively on an article by Van Goor (1921) and the greater part of Chapter VII is dedicated to summarizing two important works by Moens (1921 & 1951).

I also consider myself fortunate to having received considerable assistance from several of my ‘good friends’ (kalyānamitra), who devoted time and energy well in excess of what I had any right to expect or even hope for. When I first met Lokesh Chandra in New Delhi in July of 2004, he said he was always delighted to meet someone who shared his passion for understanding the ancient civilization of Central Java and how rare it was to have someone to talk to about this particular avenue of research. For the past several years we have been engaged in an ongoing conversation in which we have discussed many important points about the Buddhism in vogue during Central Java’s Classic Age — an intellectual experience for which I shall forever be grateful. This book would not have been possible without his many contributions on key points that had baffled me along the way.

I would like to thank Roy Jordaan for making it possible for me to delve deeper into numerous Dutch-language reports originating from the Netherlands Indies that have contributed so much to our knowledge of ancient Java in general and Candi Mendut in particular. His patience in dealing with my attempts to faithfully translate various Dutch-language texts into English is greatly appreciated because it has made this a far better book than if I had been left to my own devices. Any translation mistakes that appear herein are entirely of my own making; however, to the extent that I have been able to capture something of the essence of what the early Dutch scholars had to say is due in major part to Roy’s indefatigable efforts and guidance. Roy also encouraged me to take a step back from Candi Mendut and apply what I had learned about one temple to all the temples of Central Java. The closing chapter of this book is the direct result of his suggestion.

Subhash Kak provided critical comments on the chapter concerning the astronomical and astrological aspect s o f Candi Mendut . Manjushree Gupta identified a number o f significan t iconographical details found in key Mendut bas-reliefs. Caesar Voûte clarified the meaning of the term klaporen coined by his distant relation Van Stein Callenfels and added a historical perspective to his rediscovery of a small temple foundation on the left bank of the Progo River near Candi Pawon. Jeffrey Sundberg made a number of helpful suggestions concerning historical developments in Central Java and contributed an appendix on the subject to this book that is important with respect to our understanding of the State of Mataram.

My heartfelt thanks to all.

Mark Long 21 June 2009

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The Universe in a Likeness

“Inasmuch as the temple is the universe in a likeness, its dark interior is occupied only by a single image or symbol of the informing Spirit, while externally its walls are covered with representations of the Divine Powers in all their manifested multiplicity. In visiting the shrine, one proceeds inwards from multiplicity to unity, just as in contemplation; and on returning again to the outer world, one sees that one has been surrounded by all the innumerable forms that the Sole Seer and Agent within assumes in his playful activity. And this distinction between the outer world and the inner shrine of an Indian temple, into which one enters ‘so as to be born again from its dark womb,’ is the same distinction Plotinus (Enneads VI.9.11) makes when he observes that the seer of the Supreme, being one with his vision, ‘is like one who, having penetrated the inner sanctuary, leaves the temple images behind him ― though these become once more first objects of regard when he leaves the holies; for There his converse was not with image, not with trace, but with the very Truth’.”

“The deity who assumes innumerable forms, and has no form, is one and the same Purusa, and to worship in either way leads to the same liberation: ‘however men approach Me, even so do I welcome them’ (BG IV.II).”67

― Ananda K. Coomaraswamy (1877 - 1947)

67 Coomaraswamy, Ananda K. The Door in the Sky. Princeton: University Press (1997): 183.

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