Noto of Java Ii: The Rebirth

By Jono Hardjowirogo

The wedding of the century between Noto and Yanti was supposed to make the tie between the two kingdoms that much closer, yet it also makes the people of Solo realize just how well-off the people of Jogya truly are. They have their beloved sultan actually working for them, managing the province ably, while the sunan of Solo is basically powerless outside the palace wall. The people demanded that the two kingdoms be merged. The solution made Noto the crown prince of both kingdoms, a position that will eventually make him the king of the new kingdom, the Kingdom of New Mataram.

Notos struggle with Nyai Roro Kidul escalated as he proceeded to destroy all the ill-gotten accursed weapons in the armories of Jogya and Solo. Notos attempt to rid of superstitions from among the Javanese while not falling into the clasp of Muslim fundamentalism forced him to thread a fine line guided by several of his elders.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 30, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483674841

Jono Hardjowirogo

A graduate of Long Island University and the University of California at Los Angeles, Jono Hardjowirogo had worked for Hayden Books, Bantam Books, Simon & Schuster, Henry Holt, and Berlitz International. He then spent twelve years with the Association for Computing Machinery (ACM) as its publisher of professional peer-reviewed journals. He was actively involved in the Association of American Publishers, for which he chaired its prestigious Journals Boot Camp for new editors in Montreal in 2001 and in Philadelphia in 2002. In 2010, Jono was honored by Cambridge Who’s Who, which named him Professional of the Year of the Publishing Industry. In the same year, he also received a Certificate of Recognition for inclusion into the Elite American Executive.

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Copyright © 2013 by Jono Hardjowirogo.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 07/26/2013

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Acknowledgments

1—Those Who Came Before Us

2—Among Friends

3—New Ventures

4—Eyang Kakung

5—The Hidden Power

6—Noto’s Secret

7—Sari

8—The Wedding

9—Mbak Puji

10—An Adventure In Paris

11—The Seed

12—Sari And Nuri

13—The Rebirth Of Mataram

14—Cursed Weapons

15—Troubles

16—Lamentation

17—Dharmawan

Glossaries

For Rina, for all your encouragements

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

When I started writing the first book, NOTO of JAVA—A Tale of Love, Struggle, and Ascension in a Land of Ambiguity, there was no thought of a second book. This book came about simply as the result of overwriting the first. There were too many plots in the first book that needed to be resolved before introducing a new plot to those already there—hence, this book.

The encouragements I received from many people who read the first book made me realized that the story line that I had developed allowed me to develop the story further. Starting with those excess materials from the first book, I quickly moved into an uncharted territory.

Rina Aswati, my better half, encouraged me to continue writing more as a way to keep my mental acuity from deteriorating in time of retirement.

For those not familiar with the history of Java. The original Muslim kingdom of Mataram, which peaked during the early part of the seventeenth century with Sultan Agung, degenerated eventually because of sibling rivalries and petty jealousies—brothers pitted against brothers, uncles against nephews, to gain control of a kingdom that was rapidly weakening and quickly falling under the control of a Dutch colonial rule. It eventually split into two, then three, then four. Today the remnants of those four kingdoms are still in evidence: the Kasunanan of Solo, Kasultanan of Jogya, Pura Mangkunegara, and Pura Paku Alam. Each descendant’s house to this day still claims legitimacy as the rightful heir to that long-ago kingdom, though no one pays too much attention to them, except for those who are involved.

The subtitle of this second book was originally going to be The Promise of a New Mataram. I was convinced by someone I asked to read the manuscript that the name Mataram probably wouldn’t make any sense to those unfamiliar with the Indonesian history, hence the shift to The Rebirth!.

1—THOSE WHO CAME BEFORE US

First thing that Monday morning, Noto was summoned by his uncle, the sultan. It must not be a formal meeting, Noto thought to himself because it was uncle himself who was the one who called on the telephone. Usually a messenger would come over with a written message complete with the agenda of what the sultan wished to speak about while he was having breakfast. He was planning to visit his parents’ graves that day to pay respect, to let them know about his upcoming marriage, and to ask for their blessings. That will have to wait until after the meeting. The weather had started to clear, so he really wanted to go within the hour if at all possible.

When he entered the sultan’s private quarter, he found his uncle sitting in the living room reading the newspaper. He folded the paper as soon as he saw Noto enter the room.

Sorry I am late, Oom! said Noto apologetically.

No, you’re not late. I hope I am not taking you off anything important this morning!

No, it’s nothing that can’t wait, Oom.

Oh, by the way, General Suprapto’s office rang just minutes before you got here. I told them that you’d be here shortly. I am sure they’ll call again soon, so let’s wait for the call before we have breakfast. It sounded urgent, said the sultan.

They didn’t have to wait long; the phone rang immediately.

Noto, here. OK, I’ll wait. Good morning, General! Sorry I wasn’t here when you called earlier, said Noto once General Suprapto got on his phone.

Son, said General Suprapto as he often called Noto as he considered him his own son, I am postponing your departure to the Advanced Airborne Warfare training in Fort Benning until next year. In the meantime, I want you to take over command of the Regional Military Command (KOREM) of Jogyakarta effective immediately. You are also being promoted to the rank of infantry colonel attached to the Diponegoro Military Division. The orders are being forwarded to the local HQ.

Congratulations, son! We’ll see you at your wedding in a couple of weeks, said General Suprapto without letting any interruption or feedback from Noto.

OK, General, will do! said Noto who knew better than to question an order from the head of the army.

Let’s have breakfast first. We can talk later! urged the sultan.

In the dining room, two place settings had been set up on the smaller table in the corner. He sat down after his uncle sat himself down. The servant asked him what he would want for breakfast that morning. He politely told the servant to bring him whatever the sultan was having after hearing the other choices. The sultan smiled as he heard Noto’s choice. It turned out to be bubur ayam, chicken porridge, complete with all the fixings, which just happened to be one of his favorites as well.

I used to have this for breakfast with my father every Sunday! said Noto to his uncle.

Then my brother must have continued the tradition of the family when he was away all these years! said the sultan. "We all used eat bubur ayam for breakfast together on Sunday. I wasn’t here yesterday, so I thought it would be good to have it today."

Noto ate his breakfast with relish. He hadn’t had such a nice bubur ayam such as this for a long time. In fact, not since his parents perished in that fire in Boyolali in 1965.

What did the general want? asked the sultan finally, unable to contain his curiosity any longer.

Oh, that! He is postponing my training to Fort Benning until next year. In the meantime, he wants me to take over command of KOREM Jogyakarta!

That’s great, then you can get to know Jogya better, or should I say so that we can get to know you better!

Well, that’s true. It’ll give me time to learn more about this area. I also think it is a good idea to settle down first once I am married. I am not sure Yanti realizes how hard it is for an army wife to move from one posting to another. It may sound exciting in the beginning, but after the third and fourth time, she may wish for something different, said Noto, agreeing with his uncle.

You know, as the commander of the Jogyakarta Military Region, you’ll be working closely with me as I am the governor as well as the sultan of Jogyakarta. I think it’ll be good! I am glad they make you commander of our own KOREM! So what’s your plan for today?

I am only going to Boyolali to visit my parents’ graves today before going straight to Solo to meet with the people in Golden River Batik Expediter. I meant to do that last week, but the rain flooded the road leading to the gravesite, so I decided to postpone it until today. With this new development, I think I’d better stop by my new headquarters first and see what’s going on there. Maybe the chief of staff can brief me on what’s they are facing, if any. I am still in my furlough for another three weeks, said Noto to his uncle.

Since you are going to your parents’ graves, then I would like to come along. I would like to pay my respect to my older brother and your mother. I would also love to meet the people who work for you at the Golden River Batik Expediter as well, if that’s OK with you!

Of course, Oom. I think it’ll be wonderful if you come. The people at Golden River Batik Expediter will have the shock of their lives to meet you in person. The cemetery must be muddy after all the rain we have. I have another pair of army boots if you want to use it! said Noto.

I’ll take your offer with the boots. I am sure I am going to need them. I’ll take my regular shoes as well for later on in Solo. Are we staying overnight in Solo?

We probably should because Mbak Puji has arranged a dinner with my staff while I am there. Please join us, Oom, it’ll be fun! urged Noto.

In that case I’d better tell your uncle Prince Adiyoso that I will be away until tomorrow!

Within the hour, they were off on Noto’s Jeep. When they reached the outskirt of the city, Noto took a short detour to the KOREM Jogyakarta’s headquarters, his new command, near the airport. He showed his military pass at the gate and drove straight to the main building. He asked his uncle to wait in the car while he went into the building. Noto flashed his officer’s ID. He then asked the sergeant who was manning the front desk, Where is the chief of staff’s office?

The soldier pointed out to the door to the left. Noto proceeded to go straight in, but the sergeant immediately stopped him. Excuse me, sir, please wait here while I get the major!

Several minutes later, Major Simbolon, the chief of staff, came out followed by the sergeant. Major Simbolon immediately snapped at attention as he recognized Noto from the photograph he had just received from the army headquarters, announcing Noto’s appointment earlier. Seeing the major saluted the man in civilian garb, the sergeant did the same.

The general didn’t say that you’d be reporting for duties today, sir! I had just been reading your brief, and I happened to recognize you from the picture in the dossier. Sergeant, this is our new commander, Colonel Notoadijoyo!

I am still on my furlough, but I just happened to be in the area!

Very nice to meet you, sir. I apologize for the way I spoke to you earlier, sir! said the sergeant nervously.

You’d be in more trouble had you not stopped me, Sergeant! said Noto with a smile, trying to put the sergeant at ease.

Can we talk in your office or mine, whichever is more convenient, said Noto.

Of course, sir, this way, said Major Simbolon as he led Noto back to his office.

Noto looked around to familiarize himself with the layout.

Your office is still being painted, sir. This is mine. Will you be bringing in any staff and/or materials with you, sir?

No, it’ll be just me! I am not bringing any additional staff or materials with me.

Of course, sir, we are ready for your command! Just let us know when you will start, sir! said Major Simbolon.

It’s going to have to wait until after my honeymoon. You are aware that I am getting married in two weeks, aren’t you, Major!

Congratulations, sir, but no, sir, I have no knowledge whatsoever of such a blessed event, sir! I am afraid the brief didn’t say anything about your personal life, sir.

Haven’t you been noticing the city being cleaned up and more shrubberies are being put all over the place and that the city is to expect thousands visitors?

"That’s for the royal wedding… Oh my god. You are the groom, aren’t you? I am sorry for my inattentiveness, sir. I must sincerely apologize. The newspaper and radio have been referring to the groom as Prince Noto, and when I saw the appointment of our new commander from the army HQ this morning, I saw the name Colonel Notoadijoyo. I didn’t put two and two together until now. My sincerest apology, sir!" said Major Simbolon, slightly embarrassed.

That’s all right, Major. I would like to have a staff meeting to introduce myself at one o’clock in two days’ time, Major. Please assemble all the officers and squad leaders for the meeting!

Will do, sir. We will all be here on Wednesday, sir!

Major Simbolon walked Noto to his car where he was again shocked to see the sultan himself waiting for Noto in his Jeep. Oh my lord. It’s you, Your Majesty! Major Simbolon snapped to attention and saluted the sultan as he recognized who was sitting in front on the passenger’s side of the car.

At ease, Major, I am not in uniform! said the sultan while simply waving his hand.

***

Normally it only takes less than an hour to go to Boyolali from Jogyakarta, but the road conditions and the traffics slowed them to a crawl. They arrived safely and parked on the road near the cemetery. Before they started to trek to the cemetery, which is located some fifty meters from the road, Noto pulled out a machete from under his seat. It was an unusual-looking machete, long thick body with a sloping front. It’s a Gurkha’s kukri machete from Nepal that his troops in Aceh had given him when he left for his next post. They claimed it was taken from one of the dead GAM soldiers that he shot when he captured Teuku Musa Puteh during the conflict.

We’ll probably need this! he said to his uncle after unsheathing the Kukri machete.

For protection? asked the sultan incredulously.

Oh no. It’s to cut our way through these dense bushes! It’s very safe around here. I know most of the people.

You may think it’s safe, but you should always remember that your parents were murdered here, and we really don’t know who killed them, right?

After the rain, some underbrush grew thick rather quickly, and Noto was anticipating just such a situation; he’d need the machete to clear his path to the cemetery. With his uncle, the sultan, following closely, he started moving toward where the cemetery was located. He swung his machete right and left cutting some low-lying branches. The blade of the machete was so sharp that it cut through the wet wooden brushes quite easily. Before long they reached the gravesite. He cleaned the blade of his machete on his pants before putting it back in its sheath—clearly a soldier’s trait of always taking care of your equipment to make sure that it will be fully functional the next time it will be needed.

His uncle noticed that all the graves were marked by simple headstones. This is a village cemetery after all, he thought quietly. The sight of his older brother’s grave with its simple headstone really touched him deeply; actually this was the first time that he had ever been to a commoners’ gravesite.

The name etched on the granite of his brother’s grave simply said raden mas (sir) adijoyo, his date of birth, and the date of his demise. The title of Raden Mas is a lesser royal title, many levels below Kanjeng Gusti Pangeran Haryo (prince) title that his brother actually entitles to. I guess it is all meaningless anyway now that he is no longer with us, he quietly thought to himself.

His eyes welled up, and before he realized, tears started to drop. Noticing the effect that it had on the sultan, Noto put his arms around his uncle to console him; before long, Noto was crying as well. Noto realized that this was the first time he cried in front of his parents’ graves. In the past, when he came there while he felt the sadness, he just couldn’t bring up the tears. This time, it’s different; seeing his uncle cried, it was very easy for him to follow suit. Tears fell freely from his eyes.

I am all right. I was sure that I was going to see him again in this lifetime. The last time I saw him, he was about your age, whispered the sultan to his nephew. It is uncanny how you so remind me of him in so many ways! The Lord Allah must have a specific plan to bring you back at this troubled time!

Noto knelt before his parents’ graves, and the sultan followed suit. Noto then proceeded to read Al Fatihah and then Ya Sin prayers from Al Quran before his parents’ graves, then placed some of the flowers he had brought on top of the graves; he gave some of the flowers to his uncle who proceeded to do the same. He asked for their blessings in his upcoming marriage to Yanti, and he informed his father that he had found his family and that his brother, the sultan, was there with him to pay his respect.

The sultan knelt in front of his older brother’s grave for quite a while. He quietly told his brother that he had restored the line of succession by making Noto his heir apparent; he hoped that what he did was not something that was out of line. He proceeded to tell his brother about Noto and what a fine and oustanding person he had become. He hoped that both he and his wife have found everlasting peace in the hereafter.

Just when they were about to leave, some people from the village started to come toward them. Noto and the sultan were alarmed at first; Noto was about to unsheathe his kukri machete when he realized that they were led by Pak Sularno, the village chief with whom Noto was familiar.

Mas Noto, is that you? asked Pak Sularno as he approached Noto and the sultan.

Sorry I didn’t send words ahead that I was coming, Pak Sularno, but this wasn’t planned until this morning! answered Noto politely.

My grandson Gembong was herding his goats after the rain. He was startled by the sound you made cutting through the vines with your machete, so he fetched us, and we come here quickly to investigate. I am glad it is you and not some total strangers. Why don’t you and your friend stop by for a cup of tea after you have finished here? We’ll see you later then. I’ll let you finish visiting your parents!

Noto turned to his uncle who quietly nodded his head.

That will be fine, Pak Sularno. We’ll be there shortly, said Noto as Pak Sularno and his entourage left.

They don’t seem to know that you are now the crown prince of Jogya? the sultan asked Noto quietly.

No, I guess not. I guess they are really not up-to-date with their news. I haven’t been back to visit them for several years now. To them I am just one of them. I have no reason to tell them who I am. They don’t seem to recognize you either, Oom, so I am going to let it be! answered Noto, smiling.

The sultan was quite amused by his anonymity as well. He was so accustomed to being recognized everywhere he went; in fact, in most of those occurrences, he had always been the center of attention. Now finding himself unrecognized, and possibly ignored, he wasn’t sure whether he liked it; it was a new experience for him. He truly enjoyed seeing the village people up close—it was a new experience.

Maybe the rain had somehow made you look like a commoner, Oom, said Noto jokingly.

The sultan laughed. It had been awhile since anyone dared saying something akin to what his crown prince had just uttered—maybe not since his student’s days at the university in Jakarta. He found it refreshing.

Quite possibly, quite possibly, he said, brushing his hair aside.

The way to Pak Sularno’s house took them pass his old house, the house he grew up in. The burned-out ruin of his old house was still there, left untouched after all these years—fifteen years, to be exact. The overgrown vegetation in the front of the house clearly had taken over the yard. Noto had been to the charred ruin of his old house before—several times, in fact—but every time he had been alone by himself. This is the first time he was there with someone, his uncle, the sultan, no less. He used his kukri machete to clear the path through the front gate. All the vegetations, especially the climbing vines, somehow had constricted the structure and managed to keep the shape of the house intact.

I really have to do something about this place, he said quietly as he cut down some climbing vines that were obstructing his way to the front door of the house.

So this is where it happened, said the sultan, his eyes started to have that glassy looks. He tried hard to hold back the tears but was unable to. Sure enough, before long, he started to cry inconsolably. Somehow, he started thinking about his parents who died in that fateful car accident long ago. Soon after that, his older brother who drove the car decided to leave as well by faking his own death and disappeared with his lover, the court dance teacher, thereby making him the next sultan.

Yes, Oom, this is the very window from which Bapak threw me out. The roof collapsed soon afterward, pinning Bapak and Ibu inside. There was nothing that anyone could have done. This village has no firefighters like we do in the big city. Most of the men had to run back and forth fetching waters from all the nearby wells for at least two hours. Some of the other men were busy chasing the arsonist, whom they caught in the next village. We never know who he was. He was hacked to death beyond recognition by the time they finished with him.

The sultan had heard the story from Noto before, yet listening to it again at the very spot where it all happened affected him tremendously. He was crying openly.

My poor brother and your mother were taken from us in such a cruel way—oh my Lord Allah, I hoped You eased their sufferings then and accept both of them into your magnificent presence! He sighed unable to control his emotion, his feeling for his older brother.

After the sultan composed himself, they walked toward Pak Sularno’s home/office, where hot tea and fried bananas awaited them. Pak Sularno already changed his clothes. He had put on his official shirt of that village head.

So, Mas Noto, the last time we read in the newspaper you graduated first from the military academy. It must have been about six years ago at least. We were all so proud of your accomplishments. Imagine someone from this village, who went to our own village elementary school, graduated first at the military academy. What have you been doing since then? asked Pak Sularno curiously, clearly unaware of Noto’s current status as the crown prince of Jogya.

I have been busy with the army. They sent me to Aceh and East Timor. You know, all the trouble spots, answered Noto calmly.

Oh, that must have been exciting. I am sure you saw lots of action in those war zones. I hope you went through it without any problem. You were not wounded, were you? Pak Sularno rambled on trying to find out more about Noto who left his village many years ago when he was barely twelve years old.

"No, thank God, alhamdulillah, I went through them without a scratch!" said Noto.

Mas Noto, now that you are all grown up, you should do something with your property? It has been quite awhile since that fire. There was someone interested in the property several years ago, but when he found out that there were violent deaths associated with the house, he backed out. My recommendation as the village chief is to raze the house down and build a store there. A convenient store will be nice. But it is your property, so you should decide!

I was just thinking about it. I will definitely do something with it soon, but I am not sure if a convenient store is the answer! responded Noto without any hesitation. I will send someone to see you soon to start the process—if that’s OK with you?

You are so decisive. I didn’t think I’d get an answer right away. It must be your military training. I guess you must have been thinking about this before you came here, Pak Sularno said, clearly pleased with the answer he had gotten. In a village where everything moves slowly any sort of change is always welcome.

Oh, by the way, I would love for you and your wife to attend my wedding in Jogyakarta in several weeks. I will send the invitation with the address and instructions, said Noto to Pak Sularno, whom after all rescued and took care of him following that fateful fire that took the lives of his parents many years ago.

Oh, you are getting married. Congratulations, who is the lucky girl? She must not be someone from around here. Thank you for inviting us. We will definitely go to your wedding. It has been awhile since I took Ibu anywhere. She’ll like that! She enjoys the shopping in the city, of course! answered Pak Sularno with a wide grin.

"Good, we’ll see you