Dukun in Yogyakarta

By Patrick vanhoebrouck

Leiden, Oktober 2004

TABLE OF CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION............................................................................................................................. 0
CHAPTER 1: SOCIAL CONTEXT AND THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK.............................. 5
1.1 GENERAL INTRODUCTION TO INDONESIA AND JAVA. ......................................................................................... 5
1.2 YOGYAKARTA AND THE DIY .............................................................................................................................. 6
1.3 YOGYAKARTA AND JAVANESE CULTURE. ........................................................................................................... 9
CHAPTER 2: OBJECTIVES AND METHODS OF FIELDWORK ........................................... 20
2.1 METHODS........................................................................................................................................................... 20
2.2 METHODOLOGICAL CONSIDERATIONS ............................................................................................................... 22
CHAPTER 3: DUKUN AND THEIR POWER ............................................................................ 29
3.1 KEBATINAN MYSTICISM AND THE ACQUISITION OF POWER............................................................................ 29
3.2 KEBATINAN POWERS AND THE SERIOUS PRACTITIONER: GENESIS OF A DUKUN. .............................................. 35
3.2.1 Joko .............................................................................................................................................................. 37
3.3.2 Agus .............................................................................................................................................................. 42
CHAPTER 4: DUKUN (1) .............................................................................................................. 48
4.1 DEFINITION AND TERMINOLOGY. ...................................................................................................................... 49
4.2 STUDYING DUKUN AND THEIR ACTIVITIES ........................................................................................................ 52
4.3 JOKO .................................................................................................................................................................. 54
4.4 PAK AGUS: KEJAWEN TEACHER AND PUBLIC HEALER ...................................................................................... 66
CHAPTER 5: DUKUN (II) ............................................................................................................ 75
5.1 SUGENG ............................................................................................................................................................. 75
5.2 AGUNG ............................................................................................................................................................... 86
CHAPTER 6: DUKUN IN THE SOCIAL LANDSCAPE............................................................ 91
6.1 THE ROLE OF DUKUN IN CONTEMPORARY JAVA ................................................................................................ 91
6.2 DUKUN AND CLIENTS ........................................................................................................................................ 94
6.3 DUKUN IN THE INDONESIAN MEDIA. ................................................................................................................. 98
CHAPTER 7: CONCLUSIVE REMARKS .................................................................................. 103

0
 Introduction

This thesis is the result of a practical fieldwork-training programme that was conducted in the province
of Yogyakarta (DIY) in 2003. Conducting fieldwork forms an essential part of the Leiden curriculum for Cultural
Anthropology, and provides the student insight into the subject in a practical way.
The study is a sociological approach to the subject of Javanese dukun and their activities. A short
definition of the dukun would say that the dukun, or shaman, is an important figure linked with the esoteric world
of spirits and mysticism. They have played a major role in Indonesian society as curer, priest, magician, sorcerer,
sage and basically one that can help alleviate or eliminate both physical and psychological problems. The dukun
of Java base their practice on Javanese spiritual and mystical knowledge (ilmu) informed by the body of kebatinan
mysticism, which is an essential element of Javas unique culture and identity.
The study should be viewed as an exercise in which I tried to assimilate the concepts and teachings on
medical anthropology, cultural interpretation and meaning systems, non-western religions and the issues
concerned with tradition and modernity in non-western societies from third and fourth year courses. The initial
aim was to record the motivations, backgrounds and ideas of dukun and their clients in and around the city of
Yogyakarta, in order to arrive at a tentative conclusion related to the dukun role in contemporary Javanese
society. My motivation for such a study stems from observations and experiences in that region while I resided
there at an earlier period.
During an extended visit to Yogyakarta in South Central Java from 1997 until 1999, I was surprised to
see how important a role mystical concepts and esoteric practices still had in daily and seasonal affairs and
activities of the local Javanese people. The presence of traditional ideas regarding beneficial and less beneficial
spirits or ascetic practices was ascertained through various outward manifestations or spontaneous inquiries on
my part during conversations. It seemed the Yogyanese were in general quite open about this type of
information with foreigners, at least if the latter showed interest. I happened to be quite curious about such
beliefs and practices since I became in an indirect way confronted with it in my furniture operations there.
Towards the end of 1998 in Yogyakarta, I was indeed busying myself amongst other things with the organization
of exporting a load of furniture and handicrafts to the US that was to be freighted on a 40-foot sea borne
container. I had found a reasonable and entrepreneurial local partner who organized the manufacturing and
transport of my products by appealing to a large group of friends and family in the Javanese villages and

1
countryside west of Yogyakarta. Mas Joko was honest and very lenient in helping me carry out this venture,
especially when it dealt with the communication between me, the rich white bul (foreigner), and the local
workers. As I discovered after a certain incident, there were also other qualities to him which accounted for the
good relations and respect he benefited from the large group of locals who were directly or indirectly involved in
this venture.
The carpenter wanted to quit working on your tables, Mas Petrik. The wooden teak beam had a penunggu
(I. lit. host, fig. resident ghost), he said, and it destroyed the diesel engine of the saw three times in a row. And
last night, the penunggu made an apparition late at night in front of the tired carpenter who was repairing his
saw in the form of three very old ladies dressed in Kraton batik. He says they told him to stop working on
the wood and to go to bed. He stood up to get tea to serve these unexpected guests but when he came back
in the workshop with a tray of tea cups followed by his probing wife, the ladies had disappeared. The doors
and windows of the workshop were all still shut from the inside and they didnt see anyone pass through
the kitchen, the only other exit to the house. Mas Petrik, he is afraid now, and he says it is the beam of
teakwood. He did not want to cut it anymore, nor any of the remaining teak coming from that site in
Kulonprogo for that matter.
I had not expected such a story when I came to fetch an explanation for the tardiness with which
the beautiful teakwood Opium tables were being produced. But Joko and the carpenter sitting next to him
seemed dead serious after he had just translated this story to me from Javanese. I didnt know what to say
to that, chasing away the thought that in less than two weeks the container I had ordered might very well be
ten opium tables lighter due to a recalcitrant spirit which had destroyed my otherwise excellent carpenters
main diesel saw-engine. But that was not yet the end of the fantastic tale. Joko added that he had in the
meantime solved the problem by exorcising the wooden beam with a quick emergency ritual and even
obtained a batu aki, a little yellow stone, during the process. So what? I said, quite staggered. Well, he
continued, upon seeing this, the carpenter has changed his mind about finishing the tables and has agreed
to cut the rest of the wood. He promised the job would be done if I gave him one more week, sensibly
just in time for the container. Nietwaar Mas Petrik? he finished, with a broad smile.

Stories of haunted wooden beams and manufactories were often given as a reason for stalled
production of furniture. When pursuing an explanation to the problem at hand, it was inevitably the case that
such problems or occurrences were being diagnosed and/or solved by ritual specialists colloquially called dukun.
Thus it was while dealing with local carpenters and iron-welders that I was first introduced to the peculiar figure
that is the dukun.
Having lived in Java for over a year by then, this story was not the first one I had heard where a
problem or incident had allegedly been caused by a spirit or some supernatural force, and had subsequently been
solved by an activity in kind, here a mystical ritual. But my curiosity was sparked because on the one hand I was
involved, in fact it was happening to me and had partly become my problem, and on the other hand it was the
first time I had personally met a dukun. Even better, I knew a dukun, since Joko had already been a friend of mine
through the common venture of furniture-export. This relationship started a series of enquiries.
After trying to find answers to some of those enquiries and after having befriended a few dukun, I was
amazed at the frequency of consultations and the range of social backgrounds and problems of the clients.
Besides healing and advice, they provided treatments and rituals to improve wealth, relationships, decision-
making, and careers. They would also practise exorcism in cases of possession related to witchcraft and sorcery.
All of this is based on a donation system. There didnt appear to be a formal approach at any level of the
consultation, rather it seemed to depend on the extraordinary inner power of the dukun to diagnose and treat. It
was also surprising to see that most dukun were poorly educated as far as formal schooling goes, nonetheless
their diagnosis and treatment were articulated in precise medical language, purportedly based on self-training and
the reading of greater regional medical systems such as Indian Aryuvedic traditions or Chinese medicine.

2
 I was there at a time of important social and political changes. The downfall of Suhartos New Order
government in May 1998 and the general economic Asian economic crisis caused tremendous turmoil and
hardships at all levels of the Indonesian society. On a microeconomic level, in Yogyakarta, the volatile inflation
of the Indonesian rupiah against the U.S. dollar and the hike in prices on imported products caused havoc for
the finances of many households. This was exacerbated by the thousands of layovers of labourers across the
nation, causing many migrant workers to return to their rural villages from urban centres and adding to the
number of unemployed landless and land-poor people. A period of deprivation and austerity was inevitably
approaching, and its impact marked all levels of the population of Yogyakarta. This included large and small
entrepreneurs, industrial manufactory labourers, agricultural workers, the education community as well as the
entire local tourist industry, affected by the political instability. In late 1997 and throughout 1998, prices for basic
necessities had sharply risen. Some families had to resort to only having one meal per day or even fasting every
other day.
One of the consequences of this politico-economical crisis was the notable increase in clients of local
dukun. It appeared that many people sought solace in the powers of the dukun to alleviate problems of hardships
and request advice and supernatural services. I was struck by the factual relationship of the dukun figure with
the social dynamics of modernity at play in this particular corner of Java. Was it a powerful reminder of the
resilience of traditional cultic beliefs in the power of spirits and their mediumistic channels impersonated by the
dukun figure? Or was there a closer relationship between the harsh inequalities and cultural atrophy created by
New Order-styled modernity in the Javanese heartland (both urban and rural) and the resurgence of a magical
discourse to explain events and possibly to alter them?
Romain Bertrand tries to find an answer to exactly this second question. He notes that since the
krismon (monetary crisis) started in late 1997, people in Yogyakarta hold a discourse in which daily dramas of the
modern society (fear of the other, dislocation of familial and generational structures, dangers of consumerism,
new ways of enrichments) are explained by allegations of commerce with illicit invisible entities and powers. He
names it a moral economy of behaviour, because it ties into traditional codes of social conduct and obligations
of the powerful towards the powerless (Bertrand 2002: 181). He makes the further point that the urban
intelligentsia and politicians have constant recourse to rural superstitions, out of personal conviction or fear of
deceiving their supporters. This is so because of the assumed idea that a leader owning a huge kasekten (spiritual
power) is seen fit to hold such a position. In short, there are various convincing indicators that many Javanese,
more than ever, refer to a magical explanation of the social world in which they live next to a purely rational
system of interpretation. Bertrand concludes by warning that although this discourse of the invisible may seem
to have a genuine democratic feature, it is nonetheless often a potential carrier of inter-communitarian violence. I
argue that a resurgence of a magical explanation of social processes, which form such specific discourse, have
encouraged people to consult dukun and new adepts to set up shop as dukun.
From conversations it appears likely that there is an increase in practicing dukun. This speculation
nevertheless raises the real issues of recent dukun frauds and the overt commoditisation of a traditionally
altruistic activity. The blatant contempt of justice and rampant corruption during the years of the New Order
seem to have had a permanent legacy on the Indonesian social landscape of the reformasi era. The now marketable
occupation of dukun does not seem to have been unaffected by the consequent notion of greed.
3
 My interest over the years has thus focused on the contemporary role of dukun in the Javanese society.
I deduce from both readings and observations that it can reveal present socio-cultural developments and their
impact on Javanese society. The social interpretation of sickness and adversity and the recourse to indigenous
specialized knowledge to attend to it is significant in my view because it characterizes the difference between
distinct rationalities in coping with the surrounding world.
I have especially focused my attention on the paranormal (BI. for supernatural) powers of the dukun and
the belief in these powers by their clients, not just in healing (this has been documented before) but also in
attending to problems of welfare. Potentially, a study on dukun can reveal patients and healers commentaries
on the benefits of progress and the ills of modern life or on the other hand, the reassurance of traditional and
tested methods. Surprisingly in these commentaries, criticisms of modern biomedical choices in their failure to
attend to sociological causes of illnesses lay next to even more vehement criticism of misuse of traditional
Javanese remedies and practices by frauds and commercially minded entrepreneurs posing as dukun.
The aim of the research was reformulated to discover how dukun themselves reflect upon their trade
and to compare this to their perceived role in society by the public. That is to say public perception as stated in
the literature (Geertz, Jordaan, Keeler, amongst others), and based upon my own conversations and observations
during my fieldwork.
The frame of this thesis has been set up as follows: First, in chapter 1, I will look at the sociography of
the region of Yogyakarta. This will serve to introduce a socio-cultural context in which to set the trade of the
dukun. Particular attention will be paid to aspects of traditional Javanese culture as formulated by previous
anthropologists and their contrast with the influence of modern ways of life as observed by me and others in
contemporary Yogyakarta. Chapter 2 is an overview of the objectives and methods of the fieldwork. Chapter 3
introduces and elaborates on the different techniques and knowledges summed under the name kebatinan to
arrive at and use power, and which are pursued by mystical adepts in general and by dukun particularly. Chapter
4 and 5 form the central spine of the research report as they include a description and analysis of the dukun
informants and their activities as encountered in the field. Chapter 6 will focus on the clients and their reasons
for consultations and elaborates on the perceived role of dukun in society. In Chapter 7 I form some conclusive
remarks from the data and posit some recommendations for further research. A glossary of Javanese and
Indonesian terms is included in the end for reference.

4
 Chapter 1: Social context and Theoretical Framework.

1.1 General Introduction to Indonesia and Java.

Indonesia is part of the vast South East Asian archipelago comprising Malaysia, the Philippines,
Singapore and Papua New Guinea. The Indonesian archipelago itself consists of around 13.677 larger and
smaller islands for a land surface of about 1.904.000 square km. This group of islands proclaimed its
independence from the Dutch Colonial power in 1945. The larger islands in the Republic are Kalimantan,
Sumatra, Sulawesi and the western part of New Guinea (Irian Jaya). These islands, together with the Maluku and
Lesser Sunda (Nusatenggara) island groups were coined as the Outer Islands under the Dutch colonial
government. The purpose was to indicate the distinction between these islands and the isle of Java. This
distinction still exists today under the name seberang. Java only makes up 7% of the total land surface of
Indonesia, but accounts for roughly 65% of the total population of the archipelago, about 110 million people.
Jakarta is the largest city in Indonesia and is also the capital. Politically and culturally Java lies at the heart of the
archipelago, and this dominance has existed for centuries. The Outer Islands are sparsely populated but provide
many natural resources and thus export a lot of products to Java and abroad. (Atlas Readers Digest 2003)
The present population figures for Indonesia lay around 230 million people, with a growth rate of
around 2,3% per year. The birth coefficient is in average 35 per thousand and the average life expectation is 55
years. A huge proportion of the population (41%) is younger than 15 years. In Java there are areas where the
population density is as high as 600 to 900 people per square km. In contrast some areas of the Outer Islands
only count 10 to 15 people per square km. (ibid)
The geographical setting makes Indonesia a very uncertain geological area, since volcanoes still erupt
and form, accompanied by earthquakes (Yogyakarta was hit by an earthquake of a 6,4 magnitude on the Richter
scale in mid August 2004). Indonesia has a typical equatorial climate with only two seasons, the wet season and
the dry season, and a year-round temperature range between 24C and 29C. This leads to tropical vegetation and
the volcanic activity brings some of the most fertile land on earth. Indonesia is still predominantly an agricultural
nation, with two thirds of the people working the land or in the fishing industry. Cash crops include rubber, rice,
sugarcane, coffee, spices, tea and tobacco. In Java more particularly, the sawah (wet rice) cultivation system
greatly enhanced the former royal court culture of the farming people there. Timber is, next to oil and gas, a
major Indonesian export resource. Foreign investments make possible an extensive industrial economy which
incorporates much labour. Tourism has also contributed to the economical benefit of the country, though it has
seen a decline in recent years. (ibid)
Indonesians belong to the Malay race, which is strongly related to the Mongolian race types of the
Asian continent. Religiously, more than 90% of the population ascribes to Islam. Besides this there are Catholics
(5%), Hindus (1,5%) and Buddhists (0,4%), registered in the state recognized religions. These numbers

5
obviously eclipse the amount of people who actively pursue other indigenous forms of religious organisations,
predominantly characterized by animistic beliefs. The population can be classified in 300 ethnic groups, who
collectively speak more than 250 languages. (Dalton 1994)
The cultural richness along with Indonesias sheer expanse forms a tedious task for the central
government as well as an ever-present threat of instability (Timor Leste, Malukus, Aceh, Sulawesi...). Only since
the 19th century have the rather autonomic peoples been politically united by Dutch colonial rule. The Republic
of Indonesia is a rather young state as it did not get independence until 1945. In its attempt to create a nation,
the government discouraged cultural awareness for years by reducing the cultural variety to folklore, invoking
nationalistic ceremonies,spreading the use of Indonesian language through education and by propagating the
Pancasila doctrine under the slogan unity in diversity. The Javanese cultural and political dominance in this
respect stems from the Javanese dominated civil service and the army which were sent to the farthest corners of
the archipelago to make sure the implementation of the state prerogatives went smoothly (Anderson 1998).

1.2 Yogyakarta and the DIY

Yogyakarta is a middle-sized town in the South central part of Java and the administrative capital of
the Special Territory of Yogyakarta or DIY (Daerah Istimewa Yogyakarta). The DIY is constitutionally an
autonomous province, one of the 26 provinces of Indonesia. The population figure for the city varies around
470.000, whereas the population in the province amounts to roughly 3,2 million people1. Outside of agriculture
(mostly sawah wet-rice culture, corn and sugarcane) the principal sectors of employment are traditional and semi-
industrial manufacturing of textiles (batik) and furniture, civil administration and small and mid-level trade
(market and commercial retail or the informal sector). Before the tragic event of the Bali bomb in October of
2002, the city enjoyed a systematic flux of foreign tourists which was catered to by a specific industry and
infrastructure between the shops and hotels in town. The province is administratively ruled by an elect Governor
who in recent years happened to be the present Sultan Hamengkubuwono X. He is the last of an uninterrupted
dynasty of Yogyanese kings who have ruled over the split territory of Yogyakarta, heir to the once mighty
Mataram Empire under Sultan Agung (1601-1646). Albeit mostly under the political domination of the Dutch
Colonials, this house of nobility operated the Sultanate from their Kraton (Sultans palace) from 1755 to the
present.
Amongst Indonesians, Yogyakarta is known under a few names: kota perjuangan (the city of freedom
fight), kota kebudayaan (the city of culture), kota pelajar (the student city) and kota pariwisata (the tourist city). Each
of these names indicate important historical and cultural aspects of the town and its surroundings, and can give
us an illuminating view of what the town of Yogyakarta represents in the minds of its inhabitants and the
Javanese in general. (PEMDA-DIY 2004)

1
figures for 2003 obtained from the BPS (Badan Pusat Statisik) via the website of the DIY Provincial government: www.pemda-
diy.co.id
6
Kota perjuangan

Yogyakarta is known as having harboured successive generations of indigenous rebel armies who were
occasionally involved in wars against the Dutch colonial rule during the days of the Mataram Empire and after,
against the Japanese occupation force during WWII and during the fight to retain independence after that war
until 1949. These struggles, which started with the first penetration of the Dutch East Indies Company in the
early 17th century through the Java war of 1825 until 1830, determined much of the character of its population
until the victorious battle against the Dutch insurrection of 1949.
The spirit of rebellion was closely tied to the sovereign spirit of the dominated Sultan and his royal
court. When the Japanese were defeated and the Dutch attempted their ill-considered comeback, Yogya naturally
became the revolutionary capital of the then fledgling Republic of Indonesia under Sukarno. Then Sultan
Hamegkubuwono IX even granted part of his palace to accommodate the first university of the country, Gadjah
Mada University. An interesting connotation of the word perjuangan translates the preservationist view held by
many that Yogyakarta as a cultural bastion of Java is also a source and guardian vessel of the essential values of
Javanese culture. These values are continuously penetrated by outside forces such as government rhetoric,
religious orthodoxy or the modernity of globalization.

Kota kebudayaan

The material, philosophical and artistic culture of the region through the centuries is intimately tied to
the line of kingdoms of the South-Central Javanese realm, and especially to the Yogyakarta kraton. The latter is
often looked upon as the heir and protector of the complex and feudalistic Javanese culture of the past, including
the Hindu Buddhist traditions which gave rise to the various imposing archaeological structures surrounding the
city (Borobudur and Prambanan to name a few). The local tenets of this traditional culture, known as budaya
Jawa, have been extensively researched and described by western authors, particularly as the priyayi class (the
local nobility) attached to the four kraton of South Central Java were regarded as the main preservers and literary
producers of it (Pemberton 1994: 127). The cultural diffusion would have then been a sort of top-down process
with the court as models at the top and the rest of the population as the following recipients. Although much of
the rakyat kecil, the mostly peasant masses, were living quite a different life than the feudalistic nobility, the model
of correct behaviour (tatakrama) and beliefs associated with the courts was largely accepted as representing the
exemplary values of Javanese culture.
Today this is still widely recognized by the Yogyanese inhabitants, especially in the rural hinterlands of
the provincethe respect shown towards their Sultan is an ambiguous sign of thisbut it is clear that this
recognition is loaded with a strong dose of nostalgia for days past. I say ambiguous because the contemporary
climate of modernization and consumerism in the urban transition of Yogyakarta during and after the New
Order has altered much of the traditional values and their local perception somewhat. I will expand on this
below in a discussion of the available literature on Javanese culture.
7
Kota pelajar

Since the initial inception of the Gadjah Mada University in the late forties by the Sultan, Yogyakarta
has gradually acquired a position as a major educational centre in Indonesia. This is today truer than ever as every
year a huge number of new students come to Yogya to pursue their high school, university and higher education.
The population of Yogyakarta grows annually as a result. This is hardly a new phenomenon since there are
hundreds of universities and academic institutions that can be found here and the number is continually
increasing. This factor is important because education can be seen as a prime conveyor of modernity, distilling
the message that an orientation towards the idea of progress is indeed desirable.
In an interesting study on commercial billboards across Yogyakarta, Drs. Abdullah and Sairin from the
Gadjah Mada University argue that the market of education is also one of the crucial commodities in town today.
One only needs to look at the phenomenon of the intense process of commercialization in education in
Yogyakarta urban neighbourhoods (Abdullah & Sairin 2003). This, they say, in turn inevitably affects the values
orientation of the rest of the population as well. To accommodate students various modern services are offered
through stores across town such as cybercafs, printing and copier shops, language schools, bookstores and
supermarkets and so on. The real estate and housing sector also consider the students as a major group of
clients, renting or selling out apartments and houses. The fact that students come from all of the 26 provinces
also demonstrates the pluralistic cultural variety amongst much of the younger generation of the city.

Kota pariwisata

Yogyakarta is often touted to be Indonesias second main destination for Indonesian and foreign
tourism behind Bali. The geography and the historical and cultural heritage of the region undeniably create the
required setting for large-scale tourism to pass trough. Under the impetus of State policies of opening up
Indonesia to the West, foreign tourism has grown exponentially since the early 1980s, in concurrence with the
development of modern facilities such as supermarkets and hotels in the city. In the Seventies already, the kraton
had been transformed into a museum and attraction for foreign tourists as the ruling Sultan had moved to
Jakarta after the government of the Sultanate had ceased to function (Mulder 1996). The reconstructed
archaeological remains of Borobudur and Prambanan and other temples nearby draw busloads of tourists, mostly
from Japan, Europe and Jakarta.
A whole infrastructure functions to cater the needs of various categories of tourists, from the budget
backpacker to the five-star hotel clientele. Hotels and specialized stores selling Batik, handicrafts and fake
antiques, but also restaurants with western menus, trendy cafs and disco bars, museums and guided tours,
traditional shortened dance shows and even a 18 hole golf lawn. All of these directly or indirectly employ a
considerable local workforce who subsists on tourism revenues. Although the Sultan gave a Royal welcome to
the delegates of the ASEAN Tourism Forum (ATF) hosted in Yogya in January 2002, the industry has suffered

8
in recent times from the terror threats and rumours linking radical Indonesian Muslim groups to the Al Qada of
Bin Laden, especially after the bombings of western targets over the past three years.

1.3 Yogyakarta and Javanese culture.

Modernity in the era of transition.

When one explores Yogyakarta and its surroundings, two aspects are immediately noticeable. One the
one hand, there is the modernity of some of its urban neighbourhoods, and on the other hand the quaintness of
traditional villages amidst the rice fields surrounding the city. This architectural contrast effectively denotes a
cultural one as well, although one which is not as sharply delineated as the outward appearances of buildings.
This cultural contrast is characterized by the interplay between modern and traditional ideas as well as between
the national and the local. It is often said of Indonesia that it has entered a transitional stage. Victor Turner
(1976) defines the situation of a society undergoing a transitional phenomenon as liminality. In such a society,
traditional life seems no longer suitable to be preserved because it is out of date. Yet, it cannot be completely
abandoned as the new model of life being pursued has not been clearly described in the framework of ideas. The
symbols and ideology of the aspired modern world are not yet fully adopted, while the symbols of traditional life
are well preserved. This, according to Turner, leads to a societal tendency to adopt the two systems at once. It
attempts to persist with some elements of its traditional culture while adopting the elements of the new culture
(Turner 1976). To talk about a contemporary Javanese culture, then, is an exercise in ambiguity, since one would
be at pains to isolate a widespread commitment to only one type of cultural behaviour. To quote Suzanne
Brenner:
Javanese culture is not a neat, bounded whole consisting of homogeneous groups of people who share a
unified set of meanings; [Javanese culture] itself must be viewed as an intersection of conflicting,
competing, but overlapping meanings. (Brenner 1992: 8)
Instead, traditional elements of Javanese folklore and customs subsist alongside a consumption
oriented culture. Additionally, reformist Islam tenets and re-constructed varieties of kejawen mysticism are
spreading. Most urban Yogyanese seem to be quite comfortable with this pluralistic situation, whereas regional,
or better rural communities may show more homogeneity in their dominant cultural patterns. As always
modernity is the more upsetting factor in the process of cultural atrophy (Mulder 1996), and the more remote a
village or hamlet is, the less likely the cultural homogeneity amongst community members will be fractured. It is
important to document this so-called context of liminality since it potentially affects the affairs of a dukun .
While intervening arbitrarily at all levels of society and in a variety of locales, dukun tend to articulate themselves
according to their control over traditional as well as modern symbolic modes of expression.
Yogyakarta is renown throughout the world as the historical centre of Javanese arts and culture: the
site of classical dance, gamelan music, Wayang shadow puppet performances, batik making and kejawen mysticism.
Becak (local rickshaw) drivers still roam the streets, carrying people to and from the various markets. However, it

9
is also an incredibly noisy and polluted place with more motorcycles per capita than almost anywhere else in the
world. Yogya has a thriving industry of technologically pirated media, including CDs and VCDs of the latest
Western films, pornography, and almost any kind of computer software imaginable. It seems that almost
everyone old enough has a cell phone to communicate. These and other new technologies have now intimately
become part of the socio-cultural landscape of Yogyanese life. This combination of modernity and tradition in
contemporary Yogyakarta illustrates how new technologies and medias (and the attitudes associated with them)
are changing Javanese culture into a local and specific expression of global virtual culture.
Like any other urban centre in Java, Yogyakarta has experienced an intense wave of modernization
over the past 30 years. Suhartos New Order regime, led by technocrats and economists strived to open up
Indonesia to the outside world. Beginning in the early seventies Suharto and his Golkar party decided that
economic development and modernization were highly desirable. The governments economic development
programme was predominantly funded by loans from Western multilateral organizations (IMF, World Bank,
UNDP) and foreign investments. It was implemented in a thoroughly penetrating manner (to reach even the
most remote of villages) through a combination of bureaucratic manipulations and a general depolitization of
society in general.
The improved relations that Indonesia had with the Western Nations in the period after Sukarnos
presidency meant that the government was able to transform the idea of capitalist development into reality (Mc
Vey, 1996). This development worked as long as a staunch anti-communist stance or a communist threat was
maintained. It facilitated a political manipulation which worked at a local, national and global level. Naturally,
capitalistic development brought on a new culture of consumerism and a genuine shift in the social structure
because of the inexorable rise of an urban and modern middle class (Robison 1996). Later, the IT revolution of
the late nineties exposed the middle class to Western culture in the form of news media and pop entertainment.
This largely urban middle class was accused by poor people and populist leaders of having greedily enriched itself
during the late New Order period. This progress indisputably brought on changes to the society, both culturally
and politically. The various new media channelled the momentum that culminated in the reformasi movement in
1998. For Indonesian people, the reformasi brought with it a liberalization of political and social ideas and allowed
for a deep reflection on perceived local, communitarian and national identities.
While there is a present process of re-imagining community and civil society in Indonesia, social
scientists have rightly focused on studying developments in the field of mass media, considering it to be an apt
window from which to investigate this determining process of transition (Shulte Nordholt 2002). It is assumed
that the study of the emergent media landscape in Indonesia is extremely informative from a social scientific and
political perspective. The aim is the understanding of present discoursespolitical, religious, cultural, regional,
genderin the context of reformasi and its ongoing aftermath (Spyer and Arps 2002).
An example of a new type of media in Java is the written press dedicated to the topic of the
supernatural and its ramifications amidst the Javanese society. Some magazines and newspaper columns have
specialized in stories involving testimonies and activities pertaining to the invisible world of spirits and spiritual
power. On TV, the ratings of reality shows that capitalize on this very theme are breaking records. They also
provide the fodder for lively debates on the web through mailing lists and specialized websites. These media
circulations, which admittedly stress the sensational aspect of the topic, present the traditional figure of the dukun
10
in a strangely familiar way, as he is popularly seen to represent a channel between invisible forces and humans. It
also provides a platform for dukun to advertise their real-life services in an unprecedented format of
commoditization, selling anything from secret power-formulas to lucky amulets.
Public interest demonstrates a discourse on the invisible which Romain Bertrand pointed out in his
study on the relation between beliefs in the supernatural and Indonesian politics. He also convincingly argues
that the sensational 1998-99 murders of 230 dukun in East Java provided the basis for such specialized media
themes and consequent public interest to develop. (Bertrand 2002) My point is that these beliefs and practices,
and the discourse, rumours and market that they engender are elements of the Javanese society and culture which
have to be taken into account in order to appreciate the ongoing transitions in Indonesia in general and in
Yogyakarta in particular.
While reflecting an ancient Javanist tradition, the figure of the dukun is simultaneously integrated into
the modern society in which they find a specific niche. They function as soothers of many of the problems which
partially arise from the rapid transition to a modern and globalized world. This opinion is based on personal
observation and the study of various reports. For example, various Muslim organizations regularly condemn
dealings with dukun and other supernatural sources on theological grounds (Jakarta Post 7/1/96). Dukun, or any
people seen dabbling with the paranormal, are considered amoral and unreligious agents of malefic forces. This
proscription did not seem to worry my informants in Yogyakarta. Most reflected instead on the rise of clients
and the increase of activities which often call for invocations of supernatural power and beings, especially since
1997. Even when the killings of alleged sorcerers and dukun were occurring, local communities were seen to
implement a screening system of vigils destined to protect their Kyai and dukun against presumed ninjas
(Jakarta Post 25/2/2000).
Although ambiguous figures in the eyes of the public, dukun are in many ways respected as they
double as guru or teachers of mystical wisdom, whether this wisdom borrows from kejawen tenets or from Sufistic
tarikat knowledge. A study of the representations of dukun in media and in public discourse points out the
continuous public imaginaries of the invisible reality. These ancestral modes of imaginaries are especially
significant when they play a role in the context of social and political polemics and conflicts, as was the case for
instance in the killings of sorcerers in 1998-99. To understand this widespread rejection of neo-feudalistic and
hierarchical values, one needs to know the foundations of traditional Javanese culture and the misappropriation
of it through the ages by specific political leaders.

The historical weight of Javanese culture and spirituality

Javanese traditions were deliberately misused by politicians in the corrupt New Order regime to
maintain their power for over 30 years, prompting a nationwide antipathy against the Javanese culture
and community

The quotation above was said by Yogyakartas Sultan Hamengkubuwono X on Tuesday, November 5th
2002 in his cultural speech at the occasion of the 34th anniversary of the Ismail Marzuki Culture Center (Jakarta

11
Post 6/11/2002). He went on to say that during the New Order, the ruling politicians had intentionally
exploited Javanese symbols and idioms to create a centralistic political culture and structure in the country. The
dominance of the Javanese culture was obvious under former president Soeharto's leadership as it covered all
dimensions of life in the country ranging from politics and economy to education. The Sultan appreciated the
grievances that this had generated amongst non-Javanese Indonesians towards Jakarta and Java. Therefore, he
said that the Javanese needed to introduce a counter culture similar to a Renaissance in order to restore the
tainted image of the Javanese culture. Such a renaissance could start by restoring the original meaning of
Javanese terms or idioms that had been abused by the New Order for their political interests.
I was struck by the fact that this speech by one of the beacons of South Central Javanese culture was
so similar to John Pembertons conclusions in his 1994 book On the subject of Java. In this book Pemberton
describes the emergence of a discursive construction which represented the idea of essential Java and Javanese
culture in contrast with the invasive presence of Dutch Colonial rule. Later under the New Order, these cultural
values were assimilated in the regimes rule in order to validate the authoritarian and hierarchical system of that
rule and the integrity of its leadership. Were the original Java and Javanese values that the Sultan referred to in
his speech the same ones that Pemberton identifies as the discursive construction of culture by the introverted
nobility during the Colonial era?
Because of limited space and scope, I will only highlight the part of this vast and complex culture that
remains pertinent to the figure of the dukun. In Javanese society dukun are interpreted in many different ways,
both positively and negatively, but in general they seem to represent a figure which highly conforms to an old
and secretive traditional order. While it is true that the informants I have met all seemed to be extremely well
versed in the tenets of traditional culture, especially in language and etiquette, they were at the same time
husbands and fathers who were equally comfortable in the relatively modern society in which they participated,
personally or through their clients. Dukun and dukun affairs present an interesting perspective to analyze the
evolving balance of tradition and modernity in a specific locale, since they are often centrally located at the
intersection of both.
While attempting to do so I am especially concerned with the aspects of the culture which deal with
the integration of supernaturalism into the mundane reality of the Javanese experience. The lack of a conceptual
distinction between a natural cognitive reality and a supernatural reality becomes apparent when observing the
practice of dukun. Javanese and other Indonesian animatistic2 cosmologies do not divide the world into natural
and supernatural spheres of power that follow different rules or derive from different origins. Even the generic
Indonesian word for knowledge, ilmu, borrowed from Arabic, refers equally to science and mystical wisdom. In
this sense, authors have spoken of the monistic universe as opposed to a dualistic one in which Javanese (and
other Indonesian peoples) religiously imagine themselves to exist. (Zoetmulder, 1935) This cultural aspect, the
manunggal (universal oneness) factor, is imminently salient to the present discussion on dukun practices.
Given their long history, the Javanese have built a culture that is complex, intricate and spiritually rich.
In general the culture of the Javanese heartland that centres on the courts of Surakarta and Yogyakarta is referred
to as kejawen. The cradle of the Javanese civilization, as mentioned above, is the fertile agricultural land in Central

2
Referring to religious ideas about impersonal forces that can enter and leave different entities in the universe. (Aragon, 2000)

12
Java around the present day cities of Yogyakarta and Surakarta (Solo). Historically it has been an agrarian society.
As in many such societies, the Javanese developed an inward-looking, insular, communitarian, status-conscious
and hierarchy-minded culture. (Ricklefs, 1981) Such cultural features were also due to the heavy influence of
Hinduism in Java. Although not adopted literally, the caste system of Hinduism had created significant social
differentiation and stratification, which became deeply embedded within the Javanese psyche. The Javanese
leadership made a clear distinction between gusti (lords) and kawula (subjects). (Liddle 1996) Kings and their
descendants were regarded both during the Majapahit and Mataram empires as containers of divine powers
and this divine status confirmed their right to rule. Inversely, the consecration of a powerful status to the nobility
understood that the king and his consorts used their power and respect to protect and benefit the peoples under
their rule3. This leads us to the idea of power in Javanese culture, which is rather peculiar and is totally integral in
the discussion of the role of dukun in Javanese society.
Power in Java is perceived differently than it is in the West. Benedict Anderson argued that for the
Javanese, power is concrete and holders of it are expected to be able to demonstrate it through certain spiritual
activities or possession of several objects deemed to contain supernatural powers. Power in this regard, known as
kasekten in Javanese, is also homogeneous, meaning that there is no differentiation in types of power. Likewise it
is regarded as constant in total quantity, which means that ones increase in power must happen at the expense of
power loss of another. Lastly, power is detached from moral questions. It does not matter how power is
achieved or acquired, what matters is whether one has power or not (Anderson 1990). Power was originally
perceived to be acquired through inheritance or through divine favour (wahyu). It is also believed that power is
closely associated with concentration and onepointedness. Thus diffusion of authority means an impurity of
power and is regarded as a sign of weakness by any Javanese leader. A Javanese leader would always strive to
dominate different segments of the society under his rule and try to mould different, sometimes contrasting,
ideas into a single new idea which would incorporate elements of both and could be accepted by all.
The search for harmony is the keyword in understanding Javanese social life. The Javanese have shown
a remarkable ability to absorb new ideas, select the parts which are suitable to their way of life and merge them
with their existing culture, thus rejuvenating the old culture as well as creating a new one with syncretistic
features (Koentjaraningrat 1985). This is most evident in the way that Islam was accepted in the Javanese
interior. There Islam won the adherence among the people primarily due to the cultural approach taken by the
Islamic proselytizers known as the nine Wali. (Purwadi, 2003) In an effort to convey the message of Islam to the
Javanese masses, the Javanese Wali employed symbols, folklore, legends and rituals of the old Hindu culture,
such as wayang and gamelan. An additional technique, attributed to a few of the Wali in particular such as Sunan
Kalijaga or the infamous Syeh Siti Jenar, was the demonstration of magical feats during their efforts of
proselytizing. Syeh Siti Jenar was executed by the other Wali because he affirmed that it was possible for every
human to articulate the divine power from within his inner self. This secret knowledge was essentially
antithetical to the doctrines of Islam and also disturbed the ruling elite. Nonetheless his theories on the esoteric
nature of divine power have received much interest amongst current mystical groups (aliran kebatinan) across
Java. One of the main occult teachings involves the acquisition of tenaga dalam (inner power). (ibid)

3
The relationship between village and courts in pre-colonial and colonial Java is extensively discussed by C.J.G Holtzappel.
(Holtzappel 1986)
13
 According to the Babad Tanah Jawa, the Javanese chronicle which is composed from 17th and 18th
century texts, Sunan Kalijaga, a particularly popular Wali in the Central Javanese perception, had also converted
the first king of Mataram to Islam. He moreover rooted the mystical foundations of the dynasty by having
Senopati meet and unite with Ratu Kidul, the legendary spirit Queen of the South Seas. Through this union,
which took place in the underwater palace of Ratu Kidul near present-day Parangkusumo beach, the Queen then
offered the services of Javas spirits (dedemit) to the nascent dynasty. (Woodward, 1989) This story essentially
validates the idea that the Kings of Mataram and of the subsequently split Sultanate and Sunanate were bound to
the fantastic world of Javanese spirits in return for sovereignty over their land. To the Javanese, this relationship
of the kings with Ratu Kidul is evidence that they are actually fit to rule, since the belief is widespread that it
takes superior spiritual qualities to be able to command both worlds: the one of the spirits and the one of human
beings. This relation also guarantees stability and wellbeing of the kingdom.
Cosmologically this belief in the divine wahyu of the Sultan and his Kraton, and in the meddling of
spirits with human affairs in general is of tremendous consequence to the Javanese psyche. The fact that those
beliefs are continuously being demonstrated through grand ceremonies and personal ascetic rituals in powerful
places consecrates the idea that the world as the Javanese know it must be an integration of a visible and an
invisible reality. Communication and interaction between both realms are thus believed to be eminently possible
and sometimes desirable, as in the case of the union of the Sultan with the Ratu Kidul. Koentjaraningrat
reaffirms in his 1985 article that this spiritual power or kasekten, is hardly thought to be the exclusive privilege of
kings and their bhujangga (ritual priests/yogin), as the occult power can be accumulated by all through ascetic and
mystical exercises. The secret knowledge which was the exclusive appendage of the courts has in a certain way
been popularized by the various Javanist sects since the early twentieth century. Since the fall of the New Order
many more adepts are subscribing to these groups, especially those practicing inner power (paguyuban tenaga
dalam). (Mulder, 1998)
A case to illustrate this belief could well be given by the massive number of people who converge to
the Parangtritis beach south of Yogya on the auspicious day of Jumat Kliwon (a 35 day cycle combining the seven
day calendar and the Javanese five day calendar). On this day indeed, more specifically during the night from
Thursday to Friday, this type of communication/interaction with various spirits is thought to be the easiest.
Various rituals, techniques of asceticism and magical practices are employed and offered, but everyone has the
same thing in mind: berkah . This is the idea that with enough merit built up during the night and/or the days
before, one can invoke supernatural beings and ancestral figures to bring them good luck in one form or another.
The supernatural blessing in Parangtritis often materializes in the form of a gem or traditional weapon (such as a
keris) and many people are seen scrutinizing the crashing waves or sitting by the grave of some venerable
prophet. The general belief is that the Queen or one of her powerful consorts will send a demit (nature-spirit) to
the selected lucky solicitor. This latter has to try to successfully catch the appearance through a mystical
movement, upon which the demit should materialize in one of the above named objects. The reality of the whole
monthly Parangtritis event is grimmer than that though, as the ritual endeavours of believers are in fact
overshadowed by the loud wayang and kethoprak shows that entertain the crowds. The masses of people who
converge to the scene are catered for by hundreds of guesthouses, food stalls and prostitutes.

14
 It struck me as odd that many of the youngsters that frequented the Jumat-Kliwon Parangtritis scene
in search for spiritual berkah would also go to the trendy rock concerts in town, staged on the universities
campuses or even on the sacred grounds of the Alun-Alun Lor, the exhibition field directly north of the
Kratons gate! This latter location powerfully demonstrates the cohabitation of tradition and modernity. It is used
to hold the highly sacred ceremonies of garebeg4 as well as large rock-concerts as mentioned, sponsored by kretek
factories and local department stores.
Both types of events have in common that they draw thousands of people to the north of the Kraton,
and regardless of the physical differences of the celebrations, it is maybe this fact that is of crucial concern here.
Indeed as Ward Keeler explained in his dissertation on dalang and wayang performances, the disguised amount of
power in the form of respect that a sponsor of a performance receives is in direct relation with the amount of
guests that come to attend. (1982 : 271-273) Likewise at the massive Alun-Alun gatherings, it is the Kraton that
receives the unsaid tribute by allowing these celebrations to take place there, and so by augmenting the power
status of the host it would keep the symbolic aristocratic authority of the Sultan at a relatively high level.
Likewise, I was told by someone of the palace retinue that these concerts showed that the Kraton was
wholeheartedly participating in the modernity that is changing the city, which is good for its image as a result.

Hierarchy, Power and Asceticism in traditional Javanese culture

As a system of knowledge, kejawen is singularly elaborate, containing a cosmology, mythology, and

mystical teachings that give rise to particular ideas about the nature of man and society. These ideas inform about
ethics and morality while permeating tradition and lifestyle. (Brenner 1991, Geertz 1960, Keeler 1982) In this
view of society, a crucial point that Ward Keeler brings up is the importance of social standing and acceptance in
interrelationships amongst Javanese. (1987) Through a study of how people in a relatively traditional setting
interact in a number of domains, Keeler demonstrates the social interpretations and ideas that Javanese people
uphold about the self. When considering these Javanese ideas about the constitution of the self and the
appropriate conduct with others, which in his case are revealed during wayang performances, he reiterates the
essentiality of the issue of power:
It is power which is manifested in a concern with potency, status and personal sovereignty and as
implemented in several different kinds of relationships: in face to face encounter, in the family, in village
politics, and in activities linked to healing, to ritual needs, to aesthetic pleasures, and to interpretative
efforts. (Keeler, 1987: 266)

What is important to retain is that this power, which Keeler extricates in his analysis, is the
dissimulated tool that makes (or unmakes) for a certain type of hierarchy of status between Javanese. On the
concept of hierarchy in Java, Suzanne Brenner elaborates by pointing out that high status is articulated with
being refined, civilized or smooth(J. alus) and, in opposition, low status with being rough, uncivilized or
coarse(J. kasar). (Brenner 1991: 6) As a basic indigenous mode of classifying and evaluating the attributes of

4
The core feature of Garebeg is the reassertion of the cosmic symbolism of the kings position between the three realms of spirits,
humans and deities. (Tirtokoesoemo, 1932)
15
people and things in Java, the alus/kasar distinction is a necessary concept in any social investigation. Brenner
further argues that this moral hierarchy must be considered as a primary value of the Javanese society in any
attempt to understand the workings of that society. (ibid: 7)
In the case of dukun, Keeler notes from his observations in a South Central Javanese village in 1978-
79, that dukun usually enjoy some prestige and receive greater deference than many other people of similar
wealth and age. This is so because people see in the dukun an authoritative figure of great potency (or spiritual
power), who through their refined speech exert this authority over spirits and do not become dependent on or
controlled by them. (Keeler 1982:117-19) A successful dukun, one who has demonstrated his power in a
beneficial but authoritative way, automatically gains a relatively high status in the hierarchy defined by the
alus/kasar opposition. To the contrary, mediums (J. prewangan) do not enjoy the same respect as dukun according
to Keeler, since their powers, often of divination, are thought to originate from external spirits rather than their
own batin. (ibid:120-21) In this discussion, what comes to the fore is that power is secured by having a developed
kakuwatan batin (potency of the inner self), which in Java it is assumed, can only be acquired through stern ascetic
rigor.

Asceticism and harmony

Keeler and Brenner both speak at length about asceticism in Javanese culture. They both see it as being central
to their further discussions on Javanese understandings of interaction and of economic behaviour respectively.
As Keeler posits,
The reward that people seek in asceticism, although it may consist in a particular goal or object, such as
a good grade on an exam or a good harvest, also implies the potency that guarantees a person an
impressive presence in encounter. That is, it also makes a person potent. (Keeler 1987: 47-48)

Brenner, in her study of the market in Surakarta, sees cultural logics at work which articulate the
meanings of money and economic practices when they are linked to spiritual or ascetic practices. She explains the
belief amongst merchants that ancestors tend to the welfare of their descendants as long as the comfort of their
souls are provided for. The material size of the welfare, in the form of warisan (inherited property) is in direct
relation with the seriousness with which one performs tapa, which is required to please the ancestors. Success or
failure in business is explained against the backdrop of this supernatural connection. (Brenner: 186-94) Both
studies show that Javanese emphasize asceticism because in their eyes the sacrifices endured in the present serve
to guarantee that comfort, prosperity and good fortune, although deferred, will accrue in a greater degree in the
future. Delayed gratification one could say. But what is gained immediately by ascetic practices such as fasting
and sleep deprivation is spiritual strength and intensity. (Geertz 1960:323) Furthermore Brenner asserts that,
This heightened state of kakuwatan batin obtained while doing tapa (or laku) is instrumental in achieving
specific, often material, goal-increased wealth, status, or political power, for example. People do laku
because they want to be successful in business, pass their university examinations, gain access to the spirit
world, or attain a state of emotional equilibrium, to name a few of the many possibilities. Lakumay

16
 also have broader aims, like good health, prosperity, tranquillity of spirit, and a long and peaceful life for
oneself and ones family (including the souls of deceased ancestors). (Brenner 1992: p. 193)

Even leaving food on your plate at the end of a meal is laku; it is believed that it will benefit you or
your descendants in the future. When eating out with one of my dukun informants, I noticed indeed that he
would never finish his plate and would leave whole pieces of fish or meat behind. He confirmed the above
motivation for doing so.
A very deeply ingrained cultural value of the Javanese is to respect the authority of the people of
superior status that one interacts with. Keeler adds that this recognition does not necessarily engender any form
of dependency from the inferior persons stake. Keeping ones personal sovereignty and self-control is
primordial. Therefore the process of granting respect (through an altered form of speech and expressive features
amongst others) is performed while keeping free from other obligations or allegiance to the interlocutor. (Keeler:
196-98) Ideally, respect rendered to a person of high status is considered as valuable as goods or services
received. This idea of value of power exercised and respect rendered is crucial in the sort of interaction between
client and dukun during a consultation, just as Keeler shows the example of dalang (shadow puppeteer) having to
perform for free or nearly nothing. The dalang, or the dukun for that matter, understands that; it is the
recognition and respect that they gladly welcome instead.
In simple terms respect from people confirms the pious path of ones chosen way of life, as an
informant dukun once told me. To ask expressly for payment for his services would cast a doubt on his claims to
power or alternately cause him to lose his power. What they gain, besides eventual material benefits, is merit of a
spiritual nature which brings one closer under the benediction of Gusti (the divine entity). (Personal
communication)
Javanese people following these traditional precepts still attach much importance to someones
behaviour in regards with this dialectic of status defined by power and respect. My informants confirmed that the
idealized conception of power affects relationships between all figures of authority in Java and their
subordinates. It is implemented in face-to-face encounter, in the family, in village politics, and in activities linked
to healing, ritual needs, aesthetic pleasures and to interpretative efforts. In the context of celebrations, Keeler
asserts that these consistent understandings of power motivate peasants as well as courtly traditions. They are
not to be merely viewed as a remnant of some old-fashioned society but as a real crux of Javanese society insofar
as it is an organizational structure. (Keeler 279-80) What it comes down to is the imposition of order and
harmony, which is good and desirable in itself. For that to happen, power is needed, but the type of power that is
concerned with self-discipline in order to achieve inner calm. Eventually power is used in this way to make
others follow and obey, in a very alus manner.

Javanisasi and money

Although Keelers observations were made more than twenty years ago, members (mostly adults) of
the Javanese society today in and around Yogyakarta still claim to adhere to the values of old Javanese culture.
They would name the essentially moral precepts of it if asked, but shunned the more feudalistic and autocratic
17
nature of classic priyayi culture. Nevertheless, it is also this aspect of the New Order heritage, picked up by the
middle class, that many critics called the Javanisasi (Javanization) of the Indonesian nation; the tendencies to be
arrogant, to be obsessed by self, position, and power, and to show these off. They describe it as neo-feudalism
and neo-priyayisme. (Mulder 1998: 95-7) Critics of the Javanization of society denounce the role of money in the
exuberant displays of wealth under a Javanese cloak and target the nouveaux-riches, the affluent middle
classes, for posing as nobility. The latter, they say, are ignorant of the moral dimensions of kejawen, an intrinsic
element of Javanese culture according to the old Sultans and scribes.
Many citizens are not deceived by the Javaneseness wielded by the government through the
indoctrination of Pancasila and its cultural associations. The goal of kebatinan, as compiled by the likes of
Mangkunegara VII, lies at the heart of traditional Javanese culture. It strives towards the self-realization of the
individual, whereas javanized Pancasila ultimately strives towards the totality of the state. In a way the New Order
presented itself as a cultural order and articulated its politics in an idiom of presumed kejawen tradition.
(Pemberton 1994) But many Javanese think it is the worst elements of Javanese heritage that have been
promoted, such as hierarchical rigidity, authoritarianism and arbitrariness, which were developed and
accompanied by a fondness for status display and arrogance. This is exactly what Sultan Hamengkubuwono
critiqued in his speech at the Marzuki Cultural Center in Yogyakarta in November 2002 (see above), but it seems
that the neo-feudalisitc heritage of the New Order is still a popular model amongst contemporary political and
business elitism.
His idea for a Javanese culture Renaissance may seem like a wishful one, as the tendencies of
contemporary Yogyanese, especially young generations, are pointing to an era of future progress and democracy.
Urban ways are definitely marked by money and all kinds of goods that money can buy. This city-centred
consumer culture, in osmosis with Jakarta, directs its attention to international life, the outside aspect of things,
the future, the foreign example in lifestyles and fashions and it is modelled by its leadership. Both in urban and
rural settings, class differentiation and social diversification have been reinforced by an aggressive money
economy, state administration, new systems of production, an Indonesian school system, mass media, and new
fashions and commodities. (Mulder 1996) Although Javanese hierarchical relationships appear as a sign of
cultural integrity, it is a false impression since these interactions no longer have any moral authority, and instead
serve the hunger for status and dominance.
Nevertheless, it is peculiar that Yogyakarta still harbours a great many active kebatinan sects who teach
their members the skills of martial arts, ascetic exercises and training of mystical and magical powers. The lure of
these groups of kebatinan mysticism5 seems to initially be the search for power in order to get ahead both
mentally and physically in society. Interest seems to focus more on its practical and magical aspects than on
seeking philosophical insight. It is unclear how many aspiring members are attracted to the ultimate goal of old
which was to reach the state of kasunyataan or perfection of life. The fact that the practice of mysticism is alive
and well in Yogyakarta and its surroundings may demonstrate that through it, people find an answer to help
tackle the present challenges or problems.

5
According to Pemberton and Mulder, kebatinan mysticism originated in the late colonial society as it existed in the principalities
or sultanates of South Central Java.
18
 It doesnt come as a revelation then, that dukun, who in most cases have mastered the highest levels of
mystical training through kebatinan practice, are solicited by people who have never engaged in such activities or
are not inclined to the discipline it requires. Through its mastery and the teaching of kebatinan, dukun attain a
very real public level of commodity value, though not in economic terms, as they are not supposed to find the
means to accumulate wealth in this recognition. This argument is expanded upon in chapters three and four.
In a modern society so concerned with issues of power and harmony, it is also not surprising that the
phenomenon of dukun has thrived throughout the recent decades. By some they are seen to perpetuate
traditional values based on the idea of power and asceticism, by others to represent superstition and cultural
backwardness. But dukun have also been engaged in the various discourses of modernity as they appear in Java.
Continuing streams of clients and a certain type of mediated popularity have guaranteed a specific role of the
dukun inside Javanese society. These developments, it can be argued, say more about the society than it does
about dukun.

19
 Chapter 2: Objectives and Methods of Fieldwork

The aim of this research report is to consider the perceived role of dukun in contemporary Javanese
society and ascertain their current significance as an aspect of Javanese culture. Particular attention was given to
how the dukun reflect on their trade and powers and how this compares to public perception. I investigated the
supernatural/magical characteristic of the dukun activities and practice as it tells quite a lot about the related
macro-and micro cosmological beliefs of clients on issues of power, status, and access to a certain type of
welfare. Aspects such as the varieties of dukun, their methods of practice, their clients reasons for consultations,
their status, and their credibility in society were examined. In addition, recent developments, such as the
mediatization of dukun and the supernatural, and the post-Suharto political and economic instability in
Indonesia were considered in gauging the effects they have had on the dukun role and public opinion regarding
this role. Field study was carried out in the province and city of Yogyakarta, and the data collected was used as a
case study to determine the current role dukun play in Javanese society in relation to that of dukun in literature.

2.1 Methods

To achieve the aim of this research report, existing literature was reviewed and field study was
undertaken. The literature was considered, both before and after the fieldwork, in relation to the history and
definition of dukun, the cultural, political, religious and ideological influences of Javanese, and the societal effects
of the post-Suharto era in Indonesia.
The time frame for data collection was four months and the dukun of Yogyakarta province were used
as a case study with which to conduct the field research. The subject samples were informants from different
villages in all of the five districts (kabupaten) of the DIY province and consisted of four dukun of varying
persuasions and abilities, a total of about 32 clients of those dukun, and other members of the public. The
informants included were either employed, unemployed, educated, uneducated, and were of both genders
ranging in age from 9 to 87 years.
By interviewing three different groups of informants information was verified and a broad perspective
of opinions was taken into account. The field study involved conducting interviews with a variety of dukun with
diverse areas of specialization, clients of some of those dukun and members of the public in regards to the role
of the dukun. Besides the formal and informal interviews, participant observation was used as a manner of
gaining trust and delving deeper into the data. Extracts from some of the interviews are used in the report with
relevance to the context of issues discussed in various sections. The interviews formed the basis for the analysis
of this research.
I have to add firstly that I dedicated more time comparatively to be in the company of those four
dukun than the other sample groups, and secondly that I made provisional contact with many more dukun who

20
offered testimonies but who I didnt have a high degree of familiarity with, in contrast with the other four. In the
next two chapters I will introduce this set of four key informants who were selected for the assumed capacity of
this sample to represent some of the variants of dukun in the Yogyakarta region. This manner of presentation
will allow certain crucial concepts about powers, ngelmu (or ilmu) or kebatinan in general to be exposed through
the individual experiences of each informant. I have to inform the reader that most of these concepts have
elsewhere been previously analysed and described by authors in their studies on Javanese religion and traditional
culture6. I do refer to these works at times when I feel that the need arises, but this ethnography report will not
repeat the extensive analysis of religious concepts and elements encountered in the Javanese cultural realm that
have already been done before. Instead, the focus will be on the manner in which the dukun and other mystical
adepts in Yogyakarta use and rely upon this extensive body of mystical concepts in their daily operations in
society as observed during the fieldwork. These concepts will thus be mentioned according to their relevancy to
the study of the dukun activities.

Literature study

Originally, in reviewing the literature questions emerged as to whether the dukun role has changed,
evolved or remained the same. Later, field-data was analysed partly by comparing and contrasting various aspects
of the role of present day Yogyakarta dukun to the observations and theories in existing literature. Although
rather limited, such theories and observations of various sociologists, in particular Geertz, Mulder, Jordaan and
Keeler, were applied to the comparison of past and present roles of dukun. Also the theories of political,
economic and social analysts, such as Bertrand and Anderson, were considered in reference to recent influences
on the role and status of contemporary Javanese dukun. These include influences such as capitalist
modernization, neo-liberal development and the accompanying culture-ideology of consumerism. These theories
were both integrated and substantiated in relevance to the role of dukun, and used as support in the findings of
this study.

Interviews

A qualitative methodology was applied for data collection consisting of three kinds of participant-observer
techniques. One involved formally and informally interviewing informants as an observer in the capacity of a
research student. The second, in a more limited way, involved posing as a client of dukun and participating in
their treatment. The third technique was an attempt at participation in the context of training in a tenaga dalam
(inner power) mystical sect, involving a teacher-pupil relationship. By way of these methods and by using
different categories of informants, data was successfully collected and able to be verified.
Interviews with members of the public and clients of dukun were conducted both formally and
informally. The interviews were based on separate lists of questions for each of the three types of informants,
dukun, clients, and members of the public. The main question around which the research revolved was:

6
See Beatty 1999, Geertz 1960, Keeler 1982, Mulder 1996 and 1998.
21
What is the perceived position or role of the Javanese dukun, as a mystical expert, at present in Javanese society? This question is
rather broad in its scope, and it might best be answered by looking at various angles of the dukun experience: the
dukun him/herself, the clients met during consultations, members of the public outside of the dukun
consultation. Before my departure I prepared a list of questions that would guide me initially (see appendix 1),
with the assumption that many informal questions would arise in accordance with specific situations. Note that
the list was not meant to be used in a quantitative survey.

2.2 Methodological considerations

Choice of residence

I arrived in Yogyakarta in August of 2003, a few days before the national Independence Day, and there
were various celebrations going on in and around town. Of course this was an immediate occasion to experience
various expressions of local culture, especially the ones relating to the impressive history of the Kraton and the
more folkloric forms of entertainment in the outlying villages such as wayang and jathilan.
I counted on my old friend Joko to assist me into finding a house as well as a capable motorcycle. Both
requirements were fulfilled quite rapidly. During the entire time of my stay in Yogya I rented a small house in the
kampung (hamlet) Jengkelingan, desa (village) Mejing Kulon, kecamatan (subdistrict) Gamping in the district
(kabupaten) of Sleman. The village of Gamping is situated approximately 7 km east of the centre of Yogyakarta.
Jengkelingan was a quiet hamlet of about 350 inhabitants surrounded by rice and sugarcane fields, with the
typical layout of a small Javanese rural village. A main dirt road ran through the hamlet, dividing it into two parts.
The houses were simple and often large, housing more than one family, and separated from each other by fruit
trees, flower bushes or bamboo groves. A labyrinth of walkways, mostly dirt, connected the individual houses
and led to the main road, the little mosque or the fields. The hamlet was encroached on the north and the east by
more modern housing complexes or perumahan which further connected with larger villages, Mejing and
Sidoarum, and eventually the main paved roads. These larger roads are lined with a variety of shops and retail
businesses, and this continues uninterrupted eastward in the direction of the city of Yogyakarta. Gamping is
ideally located in between the city, the suburbs and the rural hinterlands. This has a few logistic advantages:
It is easily accessible and close to main, rapid thoroughfares:
from the west: Jalan Wates and Jalan Godean towards Kulonprogo district
from the north: Ringroad Utara to Sleman and north Yogyakarta (Gunung Merapi slope)
from the south: Ringroad Selatan to Bantul district, Gunungkidul district and the southern coast.
(Including the abovementioned Parangtritis beach approximately 25 kilometers away)
There are numerous kramatan or ziarah (pilgrimage) places around Gamping where dukun and other
mystical adepts hold nocturnal rituals of various sorts. Graveyards, rivers, hilltops and other remote
spots which are locally reputed to be anker (haunted) serve as spiritual places favourable for ascetic
practices. This is what John Pemberton refers to as Topographies of Power. (Pemberton 1994:
270)
22
 Furthermore, I chose to reside in that area for that was where my first and main informant lived, a
local dukun by the name of Mas Joko7. For practical purposes, mainly networking, I chose to make him the
starting point of my research. By networking I mean that Joko had an extensive set of acquaintances from the
region and other provinces and towns of Indonesia due to both his activities as a dukun and as a handicraft
entrepreneur. It was relatively easy for me to meet other dukun and traditional healers in a rather intimate
fashion, namely by being introduced to them by a respected one of their own. From these first amiable
encounters I was rapidly able to gain a relative trust with my new informants, and this helped me subsequently
find other informants without the direct help of Joko. I cannot stress enough the methodological advantage of
being able to penetrate an otherwise relatively closed circle of practitioners through the help of a common and
widely respected friend and colleague.
I was also able to meet many of Jokos old students of the mystical brotherhood Perguruan Teratai
Putih, in which he is recognized as a high-level guru. Talks with these people, some native of Gamping and
others scattered around the Province, offered an additional scope into the esoteric side of Javanese life
experience. In fact, a few of Jokos assistant teachers were my immediate neighbours in the hamlet and I spent
numerous hours at my house or theirs discussing issues of supernatural power and local techniques of healing.

Note on Language

The field research, including the interviews and the participant observation, was conducted in a rather
un-structured manner according to the availability of the informants. In general this was not a problem as
everyone usually had plenty of time and moreover seemed to be quite excited to have a bule (J. foreigner) to host
and to chat with at their respective residences or hamlets. Almost all of the interactions happened in Bahasa
Indonesia (BI), however at times when an informant only spoke Javanese, I either relied upon my limited
knowledge of Javanese and/or a friend to translate into BI. Therefore I had no use for someone to translate the
data into English, as Javanese terms were clarified either on the spot or noted down and translated later.
A major asset to my research from a linguistic point of view was that for the entire period that I was in
Java, I was enrolled in a Javanese language course at a small private language institute in Yogyakarta where I had
previously studied BI. One of my teachers, a girl from the village of Bambanglipuran near the South coast,
became an integral informant at times when I asked her to clarify, in the scope of her capacity, certain terms and
concepts dealing with culture or mysticism. She gladly provided anecdotes from her personal experience in her
village.

7
This informant will be hereon referred to simply as Joko. (see also 4.3)
23
Note on the research site: Local site in the global system

It soon became clear to me that stories involving invisible beings and powers and the people who
could master them were not restricted to some sort of traditional sphere of the Javanese land. The reasons
people consult dukun arguably relate to problems in their personal lives, but can also reflect the current
problems in society. Major problems today such as unemployment, inflation, loss of social services and food
shortages, have resulted in financial difficulties, relationship breakdowns, poverty, stress, and illness. This study
found that business and financial issues are major reasons why one seeks the help of a dukun today. Sometimes
people believe sorcery, initiated by a competitor, can be behind such problems.
In my opinion it is quite important that the ethnographer in his effort of mapping the body of local
knowledge, sorts out the relationships of the local stories to the global ones. This is because the form of local
knowledge in the embedded idioms and discourses of contemporary Yogyakarta can be defined by its
relationship to a greater regional, national and even global system. It is especially obvious in the manner in which
the popular media echoes the aforementioned conviction, by conveying that political leaders, high provincial
bureaucrats, famous executives and celebrities in Jakarta have a privileged access to the resources of the
invisible world. (Gamma Magazine, 01/24-30/2001, See also Bertrand 2002) Far from signifying an irrational
alienation of these individuals, in the eyes of the Javanese, these stories validate their power and aura, continuing
an ancient traditional logic on the hierarchical position of the raja-king or court aristocrats from colonial times
and before, but nowadays in a vulgarized popular envelope (Anderson 1972, Keeler 1982).
Tying this to my own research, I had a particular interest in the rumours or reports according to which
many of these personalities tend to publicly (or less publicly) display themselves in the company of famous
paranormals, curers, diviners and even sorcerers8. This variety of explicitly public dukun of the cosmopolitan
kind is a rather recent phenomenon, and my local informants were quick to state that while the credibility in their
powers is ambivalent, most of them do it out of blatant financial motivation. This denotes the interesting aspect
of commoditization of the dukun activity in 21st century Java. Primarily because of time constraints and other
more controversial issues, I wasnt able to investigate the higher levels of political and cosmopolitan activities of
certain dukun. I am merely pointing out the fact that my endeavour to document the dukun world at a local level
was rapidly re-configured from a single-sited research to one where multiple sites of social segments of the
Javanese (and Indonesian) community were being highlighted and associated.
Thus, if I was to achieve a more complete ethnography on the topic dukun, it is undeniable that in
order to move through such disjointed spacesthe political world of MPs in Jakarta or Surabaya, the coulisses
of the Indonesian film- and music industry, the closed circles of provincial officials and business executives and
other disparate but equally fascinating sitesI would have had to profile myself as a circumstantial activist,
renegotiating identities in different sites as I would learn more about various slices of the world system which
cross-cuts the topic of dukun. It is obvious that this topic allows one to traverse the diaspora of Javanese society
quite easily, since it is inherent to the practice that dukun are patronized by nearly all segments of the population,
from the most destitute to the most dominant. It is my argument that this trend has been multiplying, and in a

8
Paranormal: expert of the supernatural, curer: healing expert, diviner: expert with clairvoyance, sorcerer: expert on witchcraft and
sorcery.
24
more public manner, stimulated by post-Suharto political liberalization and the commoditisation of paranormal
services which claim to relieve economical difficulties in contemporary Java. This point is debatable; I am relying
on first hand data from various informants in the field. As one informant posited:

Rapid change such as during the reformasi and the krismon makes many victims, and a lot of insecurity.
This insecurity continuously increases; even though it sometimes recedes, it stays hidden to reappear at a
later moment of crisis. Nothing is certain, nothing can be expected in a way that makes sense: the cultural
rules we used to go by have been invalidated because of (the rules) becoming tools of manipulation. With
so much insecurity, it is perfectly normal for people to turn to the paranormal. [Personal communication,
November 2003]

Note that the word paranormal is used by Javanese both to indicate the supernatural realm of reality and the
dukun practitioner who uses magical means in his treatments.
Additionally, as a research site, the popularity of the world of invincible powers and beings in the
media (especially the printed and audiovisual media), is interesting for the ethnographer to select in his analysis
from a methodological standpoint. Both the original sources of and the public feedback to this mediatized theme
sincerely revealalbeit in a sometime overtly sensational formatthe deep convictions which Javanese uphold
regarding those phenomena in their daily lives, including the roles of dukun.
To summarize this discussion on methodological approaches, I will simply say that the multiple sites
where associations and connections are made with the topic of dukunwhether in the public appearances of
some dominant elite, in an important business decision or simply in the rice field of a hill-farmerare quite
varied but all every bit as fascinating and anthropologically relevant as the other, or so it seems in my opinion.
That this realization makes it challenging for the ethnographer to only focus on the local knowledge of the single
site that hes chosen in isolation of the wider systems at work at the price of a more complicated but richer set of
data to organize/analyze, is, I presume, a commonsensical given.

Note on the choice of sample

I felt it was needed to constrain my emphasis on a small number of dukun whose activities were
relatively diverse rather than a quantitatively larger sample. The Yogyanese public in general is quite
knowledgeable of the power of the dukun and realise that each individual one has their own strengths and
approaches. As a result they choose their dukun accordingly. If I was to understand their perceived role, (by self
and others) my research would have to look closely at various dukun and their clients particular needs.
Practically, this would involve spending more time with less people, especially in order to gain the trust of the
dukun.
Obviously, this implied gaining an understanding of the mechanisms and processes that make a dukun
what he is or what he is perceived to be. It is not exactly my belief that I could explain the whole by describing

25
the few as representational of that whole since every dukun has a personal way to go about his business9 as
this would be problematic to achieve. A quantitative research of the varieties of such characters across the
Yogyanese landscape was attempted to a lesser degree via brief introductions to and conversations with other
dukun characters, mostly in order to verify parts of my findings. I think that a certain common base of powers
and knowledge is recognizable when comparing the experiences of all dukun. This observation is relatively easy
to determine when one starts to become familiar and understand the mystical teachings of kejawen and
metaphysical aspects of kebatinan. However, I feel that it is the motivation of the individual dukun and the
subsequent application of the ilmu and powers that establish the variety.
But the motivation and moral ethos of a dukun in relation to his alleged powers and mystical
knowledge and the direction and application of these elements in the form of services to the client are the type
of data that require altogether a different methodology in the ethnography by the observant. I chose to approach
the problem by selecting a few informants with whom I would spend more time and hopefully establish a certain
degree of trust consequently. At times it meant that I was required to partake in certain mystical practices as well,
as it was suggested that only through physical experience could one make sense of the power or energies at work
here. This in turn made it possible to obtain a richer body of information then what a more substantive and
sample-oriented approach would have allowed. It was hence my intention in the study to go from a presentation
of specific cases to more general tentative arguments about the phenomenon dukun in Yogyakarta and Java.

Note on Participation

The second methodological concern I wished to address dealt with the position of the ethnographer in the
field, especially as to the problem of selecting appropriate methods to arrive at meaningful information. As the
traditional model in anthropology sees fieldwork as a successful immersion of the ethnographer within a
community, I am asking myself where the boundaries of that immersion lie. There seems to be a methodological
suspicion in the discipline towards studies where the dichotomy between Us/home/Familiar (ethnographer) and
Them/abroad/Other (subjects) is complicated, where the positions are somehow blurred and when the
authentic anthropologist speaks as an authentic Other. When is it deemed suitable to depart from this
dichotomy, to blur the distance between both? Or when does this methodological step risk the danger of
engendering data which is considered to be too ethnocentric. My tentative argument on this is that in certain
situations that dichotomy, if held too rigidly, is counterproductive in the attempt to arrive at a more essential
level of the data. I base myself here on my experience with dukun and people who patronize dukun.
Consequentially, could it not become strategically acceptable that the difference needs to be bridged by somehow
becoming part of the Other? The fact that my research in Java dealt extensively with practices and beliefs of
mystico-spiritual naturein which basic understanding cannot being dissociated from being initiated to nglmu or
esoteric knowledge by a trustworthy guruI think facilitated the choice for me to sometimes temporarily
surrender my position of the foreign outsider to become an integrated member of the group of Javanese mystical
practitioners.

9
Here I do not mean business with a strictly commercial connotation, although that irony is indeed applicable for certain individuals
as I will demonstrate further in this paper.
26
 Let me quickly review the methodology that I adopted in order to make my point. Initially, research
was conducted using a qualitative methodology with a naturalistic approach and included the use of two kinds of
participant-observer techniques for data collection. The first technique, observer-as-participant, as mentioned
above involved conducting interviews with various dukun, clients of some of those dukun and members of the
public, in the researchers capacity as a Western student. On the whole the dukun and other wong tua10 were
reasonably accessible to me and talked without restraint about their personal lives and vocations. Having
established myself as a trustworthy person, I was allowed to record some of their mantras (prayers), accompany
them on divination or other rituals, and to stay on when visitors came to solicit their services. Another technique
was participant-as-observer where I posed as a client of the dukun, observing and undergoing treatment and was
able to ask some survey questions and collect data in a natural and unthreatening manner.
The problem now with the above-mentioned techniques in the context of researching information
which deals intensively with mysticism and esoteric knowledge, is that it is one thing to build the relationship and
trust with the dukun in order to collect this type of data. It is another thing to actually understand or grasp what
is being said and consequently lead the conversations or interviews in a particular direction which will allow for
deeper levels of knowledge to surface. It is arguably the role of the anthropologist to distinguish the cultural
elements being conveyed by the informant which make for certain social behaviour in that community. But it
isnt so easy to scientifically distinguish and rationalize how mystical ideas and beliefs can purportedly be at the
onset of a certain cultural behaviour or activity. The question then is: Does the above distinction and realization
matter, if our purpose is to draw a picture of the dukun as a social member of is community?
In my experience, it does seems to matter, since the dukun themselves are at pains to explain and
perform these ideas, so essential are they thought to bein an etic wayto their practice. Through the
interviews and the treatments with dukun, important terms are named and used by the dukun or his client to
relate what is exactly going on during a curing, ritual, astral travel, possession and so on. Clifford Geertz makes
us familiar with most of this esoteric terminology in his pioneering book The Religion of Java. What is missing is
the ethnographers experiential understanding of the terminology being said at the time. My point is that this lack
of understanding during the time of the fieldwork can be of crucial importance in the matter of how far the
dukun will go in conveying his views on the ongoing activities.
This real time understanding, in symbiosis with the dukun, may also determine the physical quality of
the ethnography. Indeed in my experience, rather than just conducting an interview in their homes, the dukun
informants tended to be keen on taking me to rituals and places of power like graveyards, caves, forests and so
on because they saw my willingness to learn and understand the practice of mystical exercises. They were
convinced that I would comprehend more of kejawen and magic if I could experience the forces and invisible
beings for myself, with their practical help of course. It goes without saying that much of the data collected in
this way depends on the experience of the practitioner during any such outing, as it is these experiences which
are consequentially commented upon and debated afterwards.
Throughout my research on supernatural practices in Central Java, I have tried to understand how the
practitioners and the public rationalized their perceptions on this peculiar topic. Initially, I strongly felt the

10
Mystical expert, or elder usually considered to be wise. Expanded upon in Chapter four.
27
barrier between the familiar me and the Otherness of Javanese. They had a more subjective attitude towards the
phenomenon of dukun and indeed the Javanese mystical experience or kejawen as a whole. Trying to appreciate
their subjectivity proved rather challenging because of my dominant scientific orientation. I can describe it as a
feeling that I was somehow shut off from the world that I was living in (Java) and that my mind was not
sufficiently receptive to the Javanese mystical experience that was so evident to the Javanese themselves (albeit in
relative degrees depending on the person). The stories were there, the spirits had names and particular places
were cautioned for, but the practical understanding of what really mattered was still lacking.
What I needed to do (and it was a choice that was imminently made clear to me) was to experience the
barrier between the subjective and the objective. Methodologically this could be translated by the experience
brought on by getting involved in gradual powerful mystical exercises which for many Javanese form part of the
basic education starting very early in life. So my position wasnt merely restricted to being the observer of the
other, but through a greatly enhanced participation, I joined the other to a certain extent. I have to add that
it also greatly enhanced my relationships with local informants, because there is a difference between saying and
hearing the words and knowing them.
Words are just words, and unless you have gone through a sufficiently mind-altering experience, it is
difficult to even begin to understand what is being said. Somehow the dukun, curers, clients and even critics of
the activities of those dukun recognize that difference when you talk to them. This recognition facilitates a
broadening of the conversation and puts the ethnographer in a position to elaborate on the data constructively
but this while they are communicating with the informant and thus not after the fact. It is crucial that they feel
that you are somehow familiar with these terms when you display a belief deriving from personal experience with
these phenomena and you consequently know to mention the terms at the appropriate time.
It is especially invaluable in the conversations and ethnographic interviews where informants freely
refer to metaphysical concepts of spirits, tenaga dalam (inner power) and other wahyu (divine revelations). After
enough time in the field, the ethnographer becomes familiar with a language of the invisible, with which they
may more easily engage in conversations on relevant topics. For instance, I do not think I would ever have been
lectured about the benefits of black magic if the concerned dukun had not felt that I had the appropriate
understanding of the forces which are being solicited for such an act. In my case I had had the chance to be
acquainted to a guru kebatinan (teacher of mysticism) who is at the same time a dukun. What the practice of
mysticism moreover allows is an interesting process of self-reflectivity on personal experiences underwent during
the fieldwork.
In short, as far as my proposed research was concerned, fieldwork offered more possibilities than
merely re-reading the theories about Javanese Religion, and it reconfigured the relation between me, the white,
middle-aged male European anthropologist, and the alleged Other Javanese. The activist positioning that this
entails itself somewhat blurs the subject/object distinction on which ethnography is conventionally founded; it
speaks to the problem of hybridity in the anthropological project. (Gupta & Fergusson 1997: 33)

28
 Chapter 3: Dukun and their Power

Geertz, in his study on the religion of Java, notes that the most important dukun are seen as the ones that are
capable of various specialties at once (see 4.1), and therefore receive the name dukun biasa. (1960: 87) More
importantly he describes the difference in emphasis on specific sources of knowledge (ilmu) that dukun will
prefer to use to arrive at results. Quoting Geertz on ilmu, it is generally considered to be a kind of abstract
knowledge or supernormal skill,
but by the more concrete-minded and old-fashioned it is sometimes viewed as a kind of
substantive magical power, in which case its transmission may be more direct than through teaching.
(1960: 88)

In my mind, the difference in the kinds of ilmu reflects the variety of kebatinan practice that exists
across the thousands of mystical schools in Java. Some are more inclined to attribute the miraculous powers they
exhibit to God, Allah or divine angels and prophets; whereas others make no secrets about the fact that they are
using ancestor or nature spirits as helpers. In many more cases though, syncretism is the rule, for example as
when Koranic verses are read to invoke the powers of a companion spirit to aid a patient or to obtain a
materialized jimat (amulet), which could take place at the alleged burial place of a Majapahit ruler. But regardless
of religious creed, the source of the phenomenal powers and clear-sightedness of dukun and other practitioners
is understood to be found through the tireless practice of the old Javanese mysticism or kebatinan. It is through
the elaborate program of ascetic exercises, power gymnastics (jurus), prayers, mantra reciting and meditation,
backed by a certain form of philosophical teachings, that ilmu is obtained by the adept. As Geertz says above, this
may happen either through direct transmission by individual contact with ancestor or divine spirits, or through
the oral teachings of a guru. Since all of the Javanese dukun who I have met admitted to practicing Javanese
mysticism more or less intensely, it is judicious here to briefly consider some central concepts of kebatinan as
practiced in Java.

3.1 Kebatinan mysticism and the acquisition of power

Niels Mulder has written a thorough essay on the practice of kejawen thinking and kebatinan mysticism
on Java. In it he posits first that kejawen or Javanism is not a religious category, but refers to an ethic and a style
of life that is inspired by Javanist thinking. (Mulder 1998: 15) One may view it as a philosophical attitude towards
life that transcends religious diversity (see 1.3.3). Here it is very important to understand that the kejawen
worldview is still deeply embedded in the cultural consciousness of the Javanese. For those people who cultivate
their Javanese cultural heritage in depth, this awareness serves as a source of pride and identity. For the many
who care about this heritage, and as a clear oppositional stance to the political influences of modernist Islam, the

29
cultural identity of kejawen is best expressed in Javanese mysticism or kebatinan. The word batin means inner
self in Arabic.
My informant Mas Joko told me that the word kebatinan means to search for the inner self. It is
actually a metaphysical search for harmony within ones inner self, harmony between ones inner self and ones
fellow men and nature, and harmony with the universe and the almighty God (J. Gusti). It is a combination of
occultism, metaphysics, mysticism and other esoteric doctrinesa typical product of the Javanese genius for
syncretism. There are touches of Confucianism and Taoism, especially in the aspect of ancestor worship and the
belief in supernatural powers and communications with dead souls; a little of Buddhism in the philosophy of
discouraging ambition and greed; the reincarnation aspect of Hinduism and the idea of surrendering to God
according to the Sufis. Most Javanese see nothing wrong or unusual in having a dukun exorcise spirits from their
homes and then go on to pray at their respective Church, Mosque or Temple. As far as their spiritual life is
concerned, a Javanese is flexible and pragmatic.
Basically, Javanese mysticism is individual in approach: a person-to-person or person-to-guru
relationship. Through the practice combined with the advice of a guru, which may start quite early in life, a
Javanese becomes familiar with the mystical power of communicating with the supernatural and realizes the
philosophical value of self-discipline in relation to society and the universe.
I have met a large number of Javanese who practice kebatinan, representing a few of the various
schools of it. They include intellectuals who have been trained at Western universities, who were quite
enthusiastic to explain their activities. A large majority practice kebatinan as a means of releasing physical, mental
and emotional tensions which they believe may potentially lead to ill-health or ill-fortune. Others are more
esoteric and seek to strengthen their spiritual powers in order to communicate with ancestors souls, spirits and
other astral beings, in search of eventually experiencing some revelation to the mystery of existence, but much
more often to request otherworldly blessings (J. slamet). It is amongst the latter that well find dukun and other
candidate spirit mediums.
The several stages of the kebatinan path lead to an ever-increasing degree of spiritual purity, linked to
increasing residual supernatural powers. Those stages respectively named sharia, tarekat, hakekat and maghrifat lead
to a realization of the divinity inside ones inner self (Mulder 1998: 45-6), and can be equated to the goal of
Moksha in Vedic Yoga. The important partition of life in its lower outside aspects (J. lair) and its higher inner
aspects (J. batin) becomes accepted as experiential truth. The techniques of surrender and asceticism at the higher
stages become more strenuous and the practitioner has to be highly disciplined to follow through and leave
behind the mental trappings of ordinary life. (Joko, personal communication) All four of my main dukun
informants confided that they had reached at least the third stage, the confrontation with the immanent God and
the wilful synchronization with their batin. It is often said that a Javanese can recognize the degree of spiritual
purity of another by simply tuning in to the others emanation of power. Knowing this, it is easy to understand
the argument that one does not initially establish oneself as a dukun, which would be considered arrogant. Rather
it is the first set of accidental clients who will recognize and determine this, usually by becoming convinced of
the emanating power of such a person.

30
Kebatinan in Yogyakarta

The practice of kebatinan can best be observed though participation in the aliran kebatinan (mystical
group or sect). Many groups or sects are numerous in and around Yogya today, such as the famous mystical
movements of a national scope which were originally described by Geertz in the early fifties: Pangestu, Subud,
Sapto Darma and Sumarah (Geertz 1960: 310-52). As there were thousands of other kebatinan schools in 1955
in Java, the leaders of many groups created a congress called the BKKI (Badan Kongress Kebatinan Indonesia or
the Peoples Congress of kebatinan in Indonesia), bringing together the assorted contemporary mystical groups.
One of the main aims of this Congress was to see to it that kebatinan schools or Islamic mystical brotherhood
(Tarikat), minority religions, dukun and traditional healers do not abuse their powers or carry out undesirable
activities. Later, in 1971, Kebatinan even gained a recognized status as one of the official religions in the
country, although the name was changed to kepercayaan Jawa. According to some, the word kebatinan was too
charged with associations to the spirit world, magic and polytheism which were inadmissible under the tenets of
the Pancasila constitution. (Mulder 1998: 21-4) These elements were inadmissible with the propagated modern
view according to which religion should be organized strictly around the belief in one God. Ironically this view
theologically contradicts the old-fashioned heritage of kejawen in many interpretative ways.
Be this as it may, in Yogyakarta these latter elements and other otherworldly sources of potential
benefit have continued to be actively pursued because of the sense of desirability that they stimulate. What is
determining in kebatinan, Joko explains, is the very real hope for a condition of slamet or harmony (with oneself,
others and the universe) on one hand, and for the gain of wealth and merit on the other. Both of these socially
important conditions can be obtained from mystical practice which connects one with, depending on ones
interpretation, God or ancestor spirits. My point is that the welfare thus obtained is logically viewed as equal, if
not superior to the alleged welfare that people in Javanese society can hope for from the states efforts towards
development along more western sociological and rational concerns. Indeed, on several occasions I heard
informants including dukun themselves, argue that the pragmatic ways to obtain means of welfare, for example
through asceticism and esoteric practice, carry faster and more tangible rewards than whatever false promises
could be expected from the corrupt government side11. This attitude, albeit restricted to the local context of my
own fieldwork, assumingly demonstrates that many people in the Javanese heartland still prefer the more familiar
traditional methods (including dukun consultations) to overcome immediate societal and health obstacles over
or in combination withmodern secular methods promoted by the governmental institutions.

Paguyuban Bela Diri Teratai Putih

Note: The following, including anecdotes, is all based on personal communications unless specified.

11
I note that I was writing and collecting these remarks at a time of serious monetary and political crisis from 1997 until last year,
and that frustrations with the allegedly corrupt central government were high even though Indonesia was experiencing a slow
political transition towards relative democracy.
31
 Quite a few of my informants living in or near Gamping were members of a local branch of the sect
Teratai Putih (the white chain). This sect was an offshoot of an older group named Allah Manunggal (the
unifying god) which had split into two, the other one being the famous and larger Merpati Putih (the white
dove). The leaders of the original Gamping group had more or less retired after inner squabbles had created the
split, one of whom was Joko. He told me that after a series of travels throughout Indonesia on a spiritual quest,
he came back to live with his wife in the ancestral village of his maternal side in Ambarketawang. Some of his
old friends and other mystical practitioners called on him to become a guru himself, in particular of tenaga dalam
(inner power) and beladiri (self-defence) for them and other kids in the area. This circle of close friends who were
at the origin of the local Teratai Putih sect were indeed aware of the dramatic progress of Jokos mystical
capacities garnered during his absence. The group eventually grew to a sect of national proportions, with
branches in Jakarta, the rest of Java, and Lampung in South Sumatra. In the early days of this mystical
brotherhood, around the late eighties, Joko was one of the three leading advisors for the aspiring practitioners. I
gathered from other informants that he was a key element in the training of other leaders who would gradually
take upon themselves the delegation of organising the weekly practices.
Although still a major advisor for serious members, Joko today rarely participates in the nightly jurus
and kanuraga (see below) sessions. He is nevertheless always called upon to perform a graduation ritual called
pengisian (filling) for each pupil who has reached a certain level of competency. Students from distant regions
regularly come to see him to get advanced instructions on the mystic skills and ilmu through unusual feats of
asceticism and meditation. Other regional kebatinan leaders never miss an opportunity to come by his house
when they happen to be in Yogya. He seems to be especially famous as a guru and dukun amongst people from
outlying villages in the Sleman and Kulonprogo regions west of the city. Many times he was called upon by his
acquaintances there to join some supernatural exercises, to supervise a trance dance, or to simply help train some
talented students.
Membership to the Teratai Putih sect usually involves twice weekly training sessions in groups from
three to a dozen adepts. The training takes place at night on a large open field12. As mentioned earlier, members
come from various levels of society including peasant youth, university students, merchants, and sons of affluent
business families. Both genders are represented, nevertheless more male candidates pursue the kebatinan cycles
and usually for a longer time.

Kebatinan Perception of Supernatural Power and Spirits

People who come to practice Teratai Putih mysticism receive guidance into the ways of connecting
with ones inner self and thus reach the divine manifestation of Gusti. This is done through the training of
refining the rasa, which is the ultimate feeling-perception connected to the batin or inner self. If one feels and
knows his rasa, this achievement is said to bring spiritual power which may be used in a variety of ways
depending on the form of release. Going about handling and releasing such power is also taught through the
practice. To arrive at such a deep level of experience, the adept learns how to have purity of will and single-

12
When I was there, it typically took place at the local football field. On other occasions, depending upon the tests of newly
acquired power e.g. visualization of spirits, a more remote anker location would be chosen by the leader
32
pointed concentration, and then how to perfect his will or power of suggestion in order to direct the power
emanating from his batin. Although this process takes a long time to command, it is still regarded in Java as only
being the lower stage of mystical practices, since using power to affect ones material life is still a sign of the ego
or the animal aspect of the soul reigning over the purer dimension of the higher self.
Supernatural power may come relatively fast, but the essence of mysticism is the purifying of the soul
in order to live harmoniously as a personified reflection of the divine universe. In this aspect, magical powers are
considered by advanced mystics to be a potential nuisance on the path to spiritual enlightenment or sujud, since
the student may be sidetracked by the wonders that supernatural powers make possible. This also reflects almost
point for point the teachings of Indias great Swamis on their comments of occultism in Yoga13. In the Indian
schools of Hatha Yoga, the supernatural powers (siddhis) that the Yogi experiences and manipulates rather early
in his quest are considered by the masters to be helpful, but in a limited way since they are at the same time
dangerous temptations for the mind, thus obstacles. Likewise in Java, advanced mystics discourage the adept to
be too absorbed by these supernatural powers and visions that will enter his path. Nonetheless, this is part of the
mystical training that the adepts receive at the Teratai Putih schools, as it is considered useful to witness the
supernatural so as to better be convinced of what lies ahead. The clarity of a concentrated mind and the
development of extra-sensory perception help the student initially to strengthen his confidence in the divine
presence inside and eventually to surrender (J. sumarah) to Gusti, the Javanese conception of the emanating God.
Kebatinan leaders organize occasional outings to remote places at night, only with a few advanced
students at once. The places are known to be very anker (haunted) and they are chosen consciously to practice
contact (sound, sight and smell) with spirits14. Some of the leaders told me that such outings are always preceded
by a select period of fasting (tapa).
Fasting orients the mind to the spirit within making it conducive for inner attunements and
communications to take place with the Cosmic Mind (J. Hyang sukmo kawekas) and the various
intelligences composing It. The increased vibrations of the body, cleansed of all toxic matter through
fasting makes it possible for the attraction of certain types of spirit beings that normally would not come
into close proximity to us because of the noxious effluvia that we emanate. Depending on the spiritual
attainment of the adept, he/she can even conjure and invoke one of these spirits, colloquially named
kodam, into becoming a servant of theirs, which obviously brings a lot of power with it. There is no
denying that fasting aids the etheric body (sukmo sejati) to accumulate cosmic power, especially when done
in conjunction with the appropriate metaphysical exercises. Without physical nourishment, the body is
forced to acquire the energy it needs through some other channels. When adopted as a regular practice,
fasting unfolds psychic sensitivity (getaran).

Gurus sternly remind the adepts that these acquired powersand beingsmay not be abused to the
detriment of others unless in cases of indisputable self-defence. Arrogance and criminal activities are staunchly
discouraged as they entail divine punishment following the rule of karma. Instead, after the pengisian, which
signals the graduation of the more physical aspects of kebatinan training, the student is encouraged to continue a
life-long practice of semedi (meditation) and asceticism (J. laku, tapa) to reach the higher stages of self-realization.

13
See the writings of Swami Vishnu-Devananda, for example
14
Commonly, these nightly sances are done at graveyards, riverbanks, hilltops or forest clearings.
33
 As a tenaga dalam guru, Joko recognizes the progress of his pupils by the response he gets from them
while they are being subjected to supernatural forces. Someone who has trained the jurus to a certain degree will
feel the energy of another adept who is trying to either push or pull the former simply by using suggestion and
doing distant moves. Likewise when a spirit approaches the student, he should be able to detect a vigorous
feeling in the region of the plexus, an important energy centre in Javanese mysticism. Joko said this was the result
of strom, the energy of the otherworld interacting with ones own inner energy. These concepts and exercises are
the basic curriculum of any aspiring dukun in Java, he added. Without the ability to enhance the awareness of
ones own tenaga and to perceive the energy of other beings, whether from this world or the dimension of spirits,
there is no possibility to start healing or experience the other mystical knowledge which are named in the Primbon
(numerology manuals) and related mystical literature.
Joko told me that I needed to understand this rather rudimentary theory in order to make sense of his
healing activities and any other activity he might perform as a dukun:
A requirement of the sort does not come easily, as to start experiencing the inner power one has to perform
a series of spiritual exercises which demand a certain degree of discipline and asceticism. The exercises
gradually affect the psychological and physical capacities of the adept, as they sharpen the senses in
synchronicity with the intellect. A heightened intuitive speed of reaction and perception are amongst the
results. When discussing the purposes or the motivation for undergoing such a spiritual training, Joko easily
acquiesces with my impression of mind over matter. In his opinion, the power of suggestion which is
nurtured by a pure and incorruptible mind can basically create wonders in controlling aspects of the
material world. The raw resource which is needed to activate this process is the inner energy of people
which can be released in a controlled manner and induce flows of energy towards a single point of choice.
The energy is imagined to come from Tuhan, and since Tuhan is everywhere, so is the energy. The key is to
tap into this source through the exercises mentioned above and to consequently arrive at an increase of
ones own stock of energy. Releasing it can happen in very different manners and this is where the ilmus
come at hand, since every ilmu is specific to a particular magical action.

In a more secular way, it is said that spiritual power provides the person with a multitude of practical
advantages, depending upon his level of purity and mastery, all stemming from a comfortable self-confidence to
face even the harshest difficulties in life. People made sure that I understood that practicing kebatinan was not at
all mutually exclusive of formal school education or other religious creed, rather it reinforced these teachings if
used in combination. It was perceived as the practical side of an encompassing kejawen philosophy of life which
promotes tolerance and moral restraint of the senses. At the same time, it is common knowledge that the
supernatural qualities obtainable with the practice nevertheless encouraged many to seek fortune and status in
much more contravening ways than would readily be admitted. It is true that the hardships of economically dire
times are not conducive to upright moral behaviour, and the possibilities of thieving magic or occult practices
often seem as desirable shortcuts to satisfy repressed desires. My dukun informants knew this very well as many
consultations involved recuperating stolen goods, breaking spells or pacifying fighting crowds where in each case
some magic had been used. An illustration of this is a case where Joko had been called upon by a local cadre of

34
the PKB political party15, Pak M., to train the paramilitary gangs of youngsters who defend the colours of the
party (these gangs are called banser).

He was to teach them the skills of fighting with tenaga dalam and make them invulnerable to weapons (an ilmu
known as kakebalan). Joko refused gallantly, trying not to break the friendship he had with Pak M.. He knew
this would only create trouble for him and his family during the presidential election campaigns of 2003-4.
Joko told me that earlier in the week he had been approached by another friend, member of the PDI, a rival
party, for largely the same reasons! And his own brother-in-law, who was a cadre for the PPP, yet another
Islamic party, often invited Joko to attend meetings with local leaders. As possessors and transmitters of the
various magical ilmu, people such as Joko are often solicited by political parties to become member of their
staff for obscure security reasons. According to him, this happens frequently in the major cities where
political gangs are important. The irony is that while he refuses to take part in such activities, he is often asked
by police or other community members to break up clashes and pacify heated conflicts between such rival
gangs. He also knows that many students of kebatinan, including former ones of his own group, use (or
abuse) their skills in such activities. This type of problem is rife nowadays in many cities, especially during an
election year, and it speaks to the issues of unemployment and boredom of thousands of disaffected youths
across the country.

The pervasiveness of kebatinan ethos inside South Central Javanese culture is clearly manifest in a
variety of ways in Yogyakarta; the whole ceremonial attitude that surrounds the Kraton and the Sultan to this
day, the spiritual aspect of interaction, relationships or occurrences which are commented on and form a
particular discourse or rumour, the influence it plays in particular decision-making which may seem dubious
from a rational point but totally in agreement with a more spiritual perspective, popular fears and taboos, arts
and performances and so on. This ethos is nowhere more conspicuous than in the activities and aura attributed
to the dukun. Numerous references to kebatinan will be made in the following exposition of certain of my
informants experiences.

3.2 Kebatinan powers and the serious practitioner: Genesis of a

dukun.

A Perilous Path

Being recognized as a dukun is indeed a mixed blessing, not merely because of the debate between
black or white magic and the eventual suspicion that this entails, as I had originally assumed, but also because
of the dualism between supernatural and social levels. In Jokos constant efforts to reconcile both levels, it
speaks to the simple routine of social and familial necessities and choices of a member of society. It is part of
the old sacred wisdom of Javanese Tatakrama (Javanese code of proper behaviour), which not surprisingly

15
PKB= Partai Kebangkitan Bangsa. Affiliated to the NU of Gus Dur.
35
contains a chapter on mystical pursuit and the world of spirits, and the correct way to incorporate those into
ones secular life. The dilemma, Joko indicated, is the possibility in Java amongst seekers of supernatural power
to undergo a very real break with social reality, in essence failing to come back down to the world of mortals. I
had heard of highly respected gurus whose powers were said to be phenomenal and who you could visit on that
account, who were so removed from the society of mortals, so incapable of readjusting to human standards or
not feeling the need to. In their extreme ascetic lifestyle they preferred to live removed from civilization, totally
self sufficient and holed up in a cave or deep in the forests still found on the slopes of some volcanoes and in
remote mountainous areas in Java16.
To another extreme, according to Joko, some mystical practitioners who do not follow the rules often
run the danger of simply just losing their minds having built up an attitude of arrogance based on the false
egocentric belief that their powers are generated by themselves. They can sometimes be seen running around like
dark wild animals alongside the Javanese roads and constantly babbling against their persecuting demons.
Another explanation exists for those characters, by which it is said that the mystical path leading to kesempurnaan
(perfect wisdom) is by nature a knowledge which is only revealed in a gradual way, learning by trial and error and
by mastering requisite methods of spiritual control on the forces unleashed. Obsessive students of the kebatinan
groups who become too impulsive and impatient to move from one experience to another risk the very danger
of becoming the controlled instead of the controller, meaning that often these people get under the spell and
whims of some spirit. This situation, called the mediumistic method, is desired by some (dukun prewangan) and
repudiated by others. The danger occurs when they are in effect in a condition of permanent possession. Many
of my informants say that people trapped in such a condition are recognizable by their dark skin colour due to
the presence of spirits in their body and their glazed eyes with pupils that remain constant. One common friend
of Joko and Agus (see below) had died recently under such strange circumstances. Agus told me that this friend
P. had in the last few months of his life been plagued with avenging spirits of the higher realms, quite powerful
ones who usually do not meddle with humans affairs unless invoked by bold individuals. He had lost touch with
P. for almost a year, but some people had told him how P. had become a dukun prewangan 17, and had been
invited to Jakarta many times by influential personalities.

It was a risky business, and P. had arguably been ill-prepared to interact with such higher forces, Agus
said. He died with awful disfigured features, his skin dark as the orang timur (Papuans?) and uttering bribes
of Jawa kuno (Old Javanese). Seven days after the funeral, the Pos ronda (nightly village vigil) of the
village where he was buried caught two men who attempted to unearth and steal the body for its supposed
khodam (residual spirit-power). But both vigil and offenders were horrified when they realized that all that
remained in the sealed coffin was a rotten assemblage of flowers and bits of human hair. Joko and Agus
both told me later that they had regrets about not having tried sooner to help their friend out of his foolish
greedy quest for superior power.

16
See paragraph on the informant Sugeng below.
17
Ibid. see chapter 4
36
 Joko reiterated that dukun who were tempted towards spirit companions and other higher forces in an
abusive and ultimately debilitating manner put themselves at risk of damaging their own etheric spirit double,
which is popularly known to cover the inner batin, the core of the self. The practitioner is always advised to
guarantee that he is in control of a mental state of magical training before going on to another, a process which
in fact may not be achieved in the span of one lifetime depending upon the individual. Joko added that,

The mediumistic method, even though a valid occult practice according to many (informants), is not to be
recommended, however, as the beginning practitioner is liable to lose control or cause the dysfunction of
the etheric body. We urge the candidate magician (calon paranormal) to unfold and utilize the telepathic
method instead as this gives greater control over occult proceedings. Though seldom causing the condition
known as possession, mediumistic activities, may result in obsession, external control of a spirit(s) and poor
health.

Sources of Power and Ilmu: Kanuraga practice

The above ambiguous opinions about dukun activity can be better comprehended if complemented
with questions on the perceived methods of attaining the powers or the ilmu necessary to consider becoming a
dukun. We have already discussed the practice of kebatinan and the acquisition of such powers besides more
philosophical and moral teachings. Joko and Agus told me that the magical powers which are sought by
candidate dukun more particularly come after a mystical practice named kanuragan or kanuraga, which specializes
in communication with and handling of spirits. Both were questioned on their ideas of the acquisition of powers
as they thought it crucial to understand what dukun activities may represent to Javanese.

3.2.1 Joko

Stories about extreme shamanic initiation exerciseswhether under the lead of a guru or alone in
naturewhere the candidate pupil learns the secret ilmu such as mastery of fire or mystical flight (J. rogosukmo)
and other feats of kekebalan (invulnerability), were often conveyed to me by Joko and other dukun based on their
own experience of mystical immersion. These specific pursuits demand the total presence and attention of the
pupils physique and mind and are therefore not compatible with life as a couple or with hardly any other
normal social behaviour. Candidate dukun recognize the signs of their extra-ordinary abilities very early, and it is
a question of moral and existential judgement to decide whether or not to pursue the mystical and esoteric path
in a conscientious manner.
The most responsible way is to find a reputable guru with whom one could work in this pursuit. For
the same reasons that people are drawn to dukun who live outside of their home region as opposed to the ones
living in it (Geertz 1960: 90-1), young candidate mystics often travel far across Java and beyond to look for a
guru which would be cocok (appropriate, fit) with them. They then would spend a relatively long time at the side

37
of the guru to master the ilmu in which the latter specializes18. Anything can happen during these periods of
mystical pursuits where the pupil is trained to endure various forms of asceticism and to survive in nature
without any of the crucial tools which humans usually use to cope with such extreme adverse situations.
These persons, as well their guru and peers, virtually live in the margin or outside of normal Javanese
society for extended periods of time. But they are not looked upon as freaks in society, for the mystic tradition
has been recognized for numerous centuries. The honourable respect for the half-sacred individuals that this
tradition produces is only matched by the apprehension and downright suspicion when things get out of hand
and tendencies towards black magic are associated with them. (Siegel 2001) Joko could attest to that, as could
family members and close friends, confirming the stories about the sometimes troubled chapters of his youth
and the long periods of absence when he was working odd jobs and learning from skilled gurus across Sumatra,
Java, Bali and Kalimantan.
When he was in secondary school, Joko learned Kanuragan very seriously. Kanuragan trains the students
to be physically powerful by using inner power and/or mantras, and to be invulnerable to any kind of weapons
such as bullets, sharp objects or fire. Joko explained that this kind of practice was common in the place where
he grew up (near Wates, on the road towards Purworejo) and where people adhered strongly to Kejawen
principles.

Seeing the resultant mystical achievement I got, I did the learning more confidently by following all my Guru's
instructions. When I think about the kind of exercises I followed through, it was unbelievable. It was really hard,
among other things I had to fast without any food and water for a week, I had to remain seated outside directly
under the sun and moon for 24 hours I and my friends had to submerge ourselves in the middle of a river for
one night following the teaching of our Guru19.

He believed it could only happen with the blessing and protection of Gusti. Joko added that he was
not satisfied with learning from only one guru. During school holidays he often went to learn more in other
places, a learning which continued after he finished secondary school (he never went on to higher academic
education). Kanuragan was, and still is, considered to be the first step in acquiring higher knowledge in

18
Various ilmu and the tapa (J. ascetic practice) to obtain them are published in the Javanese primbon and petangan booklets
authored by renowned mystical teachers from the courts of Yogyakarta and Solo. Dutch translations and analysis of these have been
done by scholars such as Pigeaud, Theodore. and van Hien, G.
19
A technique commonly called Rendam or Kungkum
Joko and Agus both explained this as quite an interesting austerity. According to Joko, Many have found strange sensations
occurring in their body as a result of this discipline. The method of Kungkum is thus: one has to submerge oneself naked in a sitting
position up to the neck at the mouth of a river where two minor rivers meet and face against the currents. The appropriate place and
spot ought to be located before starting this austeritythe currents should not be too strong and the sand-bed flat. The
environment should be quiet without other human beings lingering about. Commenced in the middle of the night, Kungkum is to be
carried-out for the designated period by the magical rite which may be 3 hours or more. Needless to say, this requires a lot of
practice. One must not fall asleep while doing the Kungkum as this would be perilous--one must not even move as this would defeat
the purpose of the austerity. Before entering the river one has to perform a ritual cleansing. While in the actual act of submerging
into the water the following mantra ought to be recited:
"Putih-putihing mripatku Sayidina Kilir, Ireng-irenging mripatku Sunan Kali Jaga, Telenging mripatku Kanjeng Nabi Muhammad ."
He continued: The eyes should be shut, and the hand crossed over the chest. The body's lower orifices also ought to be closed
(perhaps with a plug made out of cork) and the breathing regulated accordingly. The Kungkum discipline is often carried-out for a
period of 7 consecutive nights. It is especially useful in accumulating magical force.

38
spiritualisman introductory part of Kebatinanand through direct experience allows the adept to progressively
realize the presence of Gusti or Sakti. That divine force cannot be compared to any mundane object or physical
force of the world. The Javanese interpretation knows Sakti to be the centre of inner consciousness which in
turn is very close conceptually to their word Aji/batin.
Although this body of teachings and methods (both the mediumistic method and telepathic method)
can result in quite spectacular magical skills, kanuragan is considered by advanced mystics to represent the lower
levels of the spiritual path. Adepts are advised to master and outgrow the initial fascination that they may
experience for these kasar (coarse) phenomena in favour of a more refined spiritual practice. After kanuragan and
the phenomenal but immature deeds that were made possible, Joko was advised by some elders to pursue the
path of true knowledge, or Ilmu kasunyataan or kesempurnaan. This is much closer to the meditation techniques of
Yogic practitioners and stresses the selfless attitude to helping ones fellow man. Under the guidance of yet other
gurus, he learned and exercised with determination, and step by step he unconsciously became wiser.
Without any promotion people started coming to him for consultation, and as part of his philosophy
he could not reject the visitors. They came for various reasons. He started to help by curing sick people, solving
family problems, helping someone to regain his/her consciousness due to black magic (santet/tenun), ritually
cleaning haunted houses etc. In reply to the question if in these modern times black magic or santet still exists,
Joko said with a sigh: Regretfully yes, there are people who malevolently use dark spiritual practices to achieve
egoistical goals. I have helped a lot of people who suffer from these deeds. Really it is annoying and it seems it is
becoming trendier in recent years, especially since the krismon. It is clear there is a fine line between the lower
level of mystical pursuit, kanuragan, and the noble search for higher truth which is known as kasunyataan and the
difference seems to be one of philosophical sophistication. Joko put it this way:
In Kanuragan I had the advantage to know about the strengths and weaknesses of all parts of the human
body. A basic knowledge which is very useful later on doing my duty in helping sick people, but also useful
in self-defence situations. Growing older, I felt that I needed a deeper spiritual knowledge in order to be
useful also for the well being of other people. I am happy that Gusti responds to my sincere wish. I met a
wise old man from whom I learned a lot. Now, I am practicing to help sick people as I can with sincerity. I
am fully aware that this is a part of my duty as an ordinary being seeking real knowledge. Ngelmu
Kesunyatan.

The change of pace in Jokos life happened when he got married and had his first kid about nine years
ago and recognized the responsibilities and obligations that his role as a father/husband engendered. To settle
and abandon the nomadic habits of a virtual preman (marginal drifter) was a first priority. But he was also
adamant about cutting the ties with some mysterious companion spirits that he had often solicited during his
peregrinations. Joko stated that two of these spirits in particular were highly threatening to both childrens safety
as well as old and sick people. And although he adapted his activities to a more domestic lifestyle he regularly
slipped out of the house, alone or with friends, to remote areas at night in order to re-connect with ancestral
forces and to keep his esoteric abilities sharpened.
During the time that I was there, from August till January, he would never fail to tell me about these
nocturnal outings and invite me to go along. But by my third night in Java he had already decided to take me to

39
one of those peculiar places where he loved to spend the night meditating and calling upon all sorts of
companion spirits. We went to a cemetery of freedom fighters (pejuangan) on the moonlit summit of a sacred hill
named Kanigoro on the northern edge of Bantul district. There, three separate invocations of local spirits were
performed by Joko and his friend Pan, much more meant as an informal introduction to my topic than any other
ritualistic function. In his own words he had made the habit of performing these rituals, away from home, in
order to feel rejuvenated. Asked if that meant that he needed these nightly sessions of spiritual communication
in order to be ever effective in the treatment of clients, he answered positively.
At least to a certain degree, he said; I learned later that he was trying to grow away from depending
on spirits help and strengthen his own powers from within. This is the way of kasunyataan or ilmu kesempurnaan,
the perfect knowledge. Having been told by his late guru that the Sufis whose philosophy was the initial
form of Islam imported to Java through the famous Wali Sangaregard miracles as veils intervening between
the self and God, Joko understood long ago that clinching to the universe of spirits and other powerful
elementals was in fact a barrier for humans to discover pure consciousness and the divine inside. Indeed, the
masters of Hindu spirituality (the core of contemporary kejawen) urged their disciples to pay no attention to the
siddhis, or psychic powers, which may come to them unsought, as a by-product of ones one-pointed
contemplation during meditation. Despite that recognition, he told me that his controlled manner of dealing
with spirits was part of a spiritual quest initiated long ago and that he felt confidentmeaning protected from
dangerto continue to experience the deepest understanding of these residual psychic powers. Going beyond
the veils to find the pure revelation of Truth, he felt, would have to happen in the future.

Magical Heat and Astral Flight

Part of the reason of my reporting on Jokos spiritual evolution and experiences is to show the reader
that in Java mystical practitioners combine clearly shamanic techniques with higher spiritual pursuits which are
closer to a Yogic or even Vedic practice. Especially as to their purpose of the annihilation of worldly suffering
and the attainment of divine enlightenment, ilmu sejati. Mircea Eliades comparative work on the relation of Yoga
to shamanism is extremely pertinent in the sense of the recognition that while these are two separate disciplines,
they are not mutually exclusionary and even borrow similar techniques from each other. (Eliade 1990: 318) His
treatise on the shamanic techniques of magical heat and astral flight and their resemblance to practices in
certain yogic traditions is very informative as one starts to examine the work of dukun in Java. Both of these
techniques are extremely popular amongst Javanese mystics, the one known locally as ilmu raja and the latter as
nrogosukmo. Stories abound about the feats of so and so who was able to put these forces at work when the
situation required such a deed to be carried out.
In the case of magical heat for example, the well-known concept of hot and cold in Javanese folkloric
medicine is a derivation of the spiritual significance of induced heat or coolness. (Samson 1974) Studies on the
production and utilization of Jamu have elsewhere demonstrated this point. (Jordaan 1985: 207, Manderson
1981: 510) On a more supernatural level, during mystical exercises of the jurus type and at some slametan, it is
not unusual to test the concerned person on his invincible strength by making them lick a red hot blade of a
40
knife that was placed over a hot fire. Similarly, one would be required to hold a hand palm down above a lit
candle for a minute or more, without showing any pain but more importantly, without showing any subsequent
corporal symptoms. More general tests involve feeling comfortable and cool in a situation of intense sun
exposure, or reversely, being able to dry a wet towel with ones body warmth at night on the chilly slope of a
volcano. As these latter examples demonstrate, the purpose of all these exercises is not to be found in the literal
result of the action, rather in the satisfaction of knowing that one can dominate matter merely with a strong
suggestive willpower. It is not an accident that successful spiritual teachings like these have influenced the way in
which locals view their approaches to disease and health, even as far as the detailed knowledge of the virtues of
plants and their uses.
The exceptional holders and producers of that power are the ones that have deeply understood the
secret knowledge of the ilmu, their profound esteem of the concepts thus being differently rooted than most
ordinary people. Offering an illustration, Joko told me about the first time that he was initiated to the art of astral
flight or nrogosukmo.
When he entered a deep state of concentration he could first perceive how his body was being
left behind as his inner self (sukmo) was moving out of it. The next steps were a series of gruesome
encounters with hideous demons and ogres who proceeded to decapitate what was left of his body and eat
it. After a series of encounters, he found himself near a familiar place near Kudus in the north of Central
Java. There a figure resembling a 16th century Wali (Muslim saint) came up to him, put a body together out
of clay from a rice field and proposed Joko reside in it. When he woke up, his facial hair had grown so as to
indicate he had been in trance for more than four days. It seemed to him that he had only been away
momentarily.
This description of nrogosukmo although a very inexperienced trial as it was an initiation shows many
similarities with Eliades notes on shamanic practices involving magical flight. (Eliade 1990: 326-30)
Nrogosukmo seems to be an ideal of many aspiring mystics in the region of Yogyakarta and presumably beyond.
The most famous acts of this type of ilmu in popular Javanese conscience are the ones perpetrated by figures
such as the Prince Diponegoro or Sukarno in their struggles against the Dutch colonial armies. The capacity to
live outside of ones material body and to travel enormous distances in such a state is one of the attractions, but
it is also said that it is while in a nrogosukmo state that the mystic can easily meet with ghosts of famous teachers
and personalities and communicate with them. I will bring refer to this type of experience later when I introduce
another informant who was admittedly very active in the pursuit of such events, i.e. Pak Agus. In Yogyakarta the
divine ancestors who seemed to be the most popular beings to communicate with were Sunan Kalijaga, one of
the nine Wali, and the great founders of the Mataram empire, Senopati and Sultan Agung as well as their terrific
bride, Kanjeng Ny Roro Kidul, the Queen of the South Seas20.
To come back to Joko, he was more than enthusiastic to reveal some of these concepts that Javanese
hold in high esteem as it affects nothing less than their life from birth till death. But, I repeat that for most of the
Javanese, these values are primarily based on and reinforced by the direct experience of concrete results when
these powers and their accompanying interpretations are solicited by korban (victims) of supernatural spells and

20
John Pemberton relates a fascinating chapter on the pilgrimages (ziarah) of Javanese and their efforts to have contact with these
legendary entities. Pemberton 1994: 271-304.
41
other clients with specific needs. This takes place in a specific social imaginary which is conducive to the
synchronicity that takes place between healer and patient. The key word is sugesti, the power of suggestion, which
is a prerequisite on the part of the patient to be in a situation of compatibility with the healer (the Javanese call
this relationship cocok or jodho21). Sometimes, a patient will try several dukun before he feels jodho with any one of
them and when recovery or success is therefore best guaranteed. In conclusion, powers and abilities attributed to
the mastering of ilmus and the acquisition of certain spirit-helpers though kanuragan training were listed by Joko
as follows:

1. The power to charge and consecrate objects without the use of any media whatsoever (should circumstances
demand it), such as water, flowers, incense, etc; often used in healing treatments.
2. The ability to acquire information from someone without the need of meeting them face to face; this is done by
invoking the person magically and/or attuning with their mind (ex. finding thieves/criminals)
3. The ability to detect an area where a hidden treasure or sacred objects are buried and the action to be taken in
order to retrieve them.
4. The power to automatically exercise self-defensive techniques when threatened.
5. The ability to conjure various kinds of spirits and to communicate with them. This can be to attract them or
instead to chase them away.
6. The ability to move spirits or power associated with a sacred object to other media.
7. The ability to exercise the distant punchthat is, the ability to hit an aggressor without physical contact. One
simply goes through the motions of hitting, the khodam (spirit-helper) would simultaneously exert a force that
would topple the aggressor.
8. The ability to acquire further information or knowledge on the magical arts.
9. Invulnerability (ilmu kakebalan).
10. The gradual unfolding of clairvoyance and telepathy which are useful in divination and finding lost/stolen
objects.
11. The ability to assist the healing process of those suffering physical ailments.

3.3.2 Agus

Rendam and the making of a healer

From what Agus would disclose (and which was later confirmed and supplemented by friends and
relatives of his) I gathered that he came from a family of highly mystical forefathers. His grandfather, amongst
others, was a catholic priest during the Colonial period that had been highly regarded as both a healer and a
devoted abdi dalem from the court of Sultan Hamengkubowono VIII. In the function of abdi dalem, he had helped
perform numerous annual Kraton ceremonies and rituals, especially the labuhan ceremony where belongings of
the Sultan were offered to the Queen of the South Seas at the Parangkusumo beach and to the guardian spirit of
Mount Merapi at Kaliadhem, on the slopes of the volcano. People said Agus grandfather had obtained a wahyu

21
Jordaan 1985: 173, Keeler 1982: 215, Geertz 1960: 91
42
(divine revelation) while performing tapa near Giri Sekar in the hills district of Gunungkidul. This fact alone lifted
him to the rare level of people who were considered sacred (sakti) in a mystical way. As a boy, Agus hung around
his grandfathers house quite often and helped him prepare various types of jamu. At a later age he used to
accompany him to secret rituals where he first came into contact with the otherworldly powers believed to reside
in the tanah Jawi (lit. the Javanese land). When his grandfather passed away, Agus promised himself in turn to
explore the mystical world of kejawen. Clearly inspired by this ancestral figure, he saw this task as a way to
contribute to the harmony of society, first locally but with more global aspirations in a later stage.
Constantly looking for ways to expand his mystical capacities and understanding, he met Joko when
this latter co-opened the local branch of the Teratai Putih sect where Kanuragan and inner power (tenaga dalam)
were taught. I have heard numerous stories of this wild period through old members of this brotherhood, but in
particular Joko and Shalim, a common friend of both Joko and Agus who was from Chinese descent and had
been actively involved in the esoteric exercises of this sect. These three characters and a few others apparently
were obsessed in continually removing the limits of magical exploration, promising each other to help one
another in moments of real danger on their path to magical wisdom. The stories are almost too incredible to
relate here but some anecdotes are worth a mention.
As young kanuragan practitioners, it makes sense that this restricted group were constantly seeking to
come into contact with various beings that inhabit the alam katriyan (the astral realm)22. Agus answered the
questions on motivation and methods of acquisition of supernatural power in the following way. The purposes
of this potentially dangerous venture are varied, but one could name the ability to invoke the help of specific
spirits or ancestor ghosts to achieve certain activities in this human realm. Agus repeated that this is not the only
approach of achieving supernatural exploits, as some people frown upon having to depend on spirits. They can
develop such powers with a pure and trained batin (inner essence), a manner which is closer to the accepted
protocol of spiritual enlightenment. He calls it the debate between the mediumistic method and the telepathic
method. Personally as a mystic adept, he said, he agrees with the wisdom of the critics of mediumistic
techniques, but he also names the fact that as a dukun, rapidity and efficiency are primordial, and as such the
mediumistic approach is initially more attractive to candidate dukun. Nevertheless, dealing with spirits is a very
popular aspiration amongst many young and old Javanese mystical adepts, and there is no clear consensus about
the boundary between what is considered right or ethical and downright evil and unacceptable.
This search for contact and interaction with spirits led Joko and friends to perform rituals and
exercises (latihan) in the most unlikely locations. Amongst the obvious favourites were graveyards, remote angker
(haunted) spots in forests, caves and underground tunnels, Hindu temples and ruins, mountaintops, beaches and
rivers. Nearly all of these places had been known for years and even centuries to be places of power, where one
could easily stumble across a spirit on a evening outing or see and hear various strange phenomena. Most of
them consequently were places of ritual pilgrimage (ziarah), where adepts would perform long periods of tapa or

22
The members of this group, reflecting common beliefs of various Aliran kebatinan, see reality as consisting of two separate realms:
the human realm or alam kadriyan and the astral realm or alam katryian. The second realm is further divided in different levels, but
essentially it is used as a conceptual opposition to the human realm, with the understanding that these two are interdependent in this
reality. What this means is that although the alam katriyan is not part of the normal human experience, it can nevertheless
exceptionally be explored and dealt with through specific mystical techniques. The alam katriyan is believed to be home to, amongst
others, various nature spirits and the ghosts of ancestors. It is colloquially known as alam ghaib.
43
request supernatural help through giving offerings and doa (prayer). (Pemberton 1994: 170-184) One of the most
popular exercises of Agus and Jokos group was the latihan rendam or kungkum23. Intermediate and advanced
students of tenaga dalam were all required to spend a few hours on a particular night sitting immersed in the
central bedding of a river. Agus explains further:

In this exercise just the head stays above the surface of the flowing water, usually at a tempuran, the meeting
spot of two rivers24. The obvious purpose of this seems to be training endurance, since the cold flow of the
water creates a situation of loss of corporeal heat, which loss is accordingly complemented by a desired
influx of tenaga dalam released in the form of heat around the body. Tenaga dalam, it is said, manifests itself
the best in situations of a shortage or vacuum of normal physical energy or motivation. Thus many of the
drills in the training of tenaga dalam are composed so as to create an imbalance or a deficiency of power
needed to overcome the eventual obstacle, whereupon it is hoped that the inner power will emerge and fill
that void. But the rendam exercise also has wider purpose which is rarely named in the presence of
uninitiated people. The rendam ordeal allegedly is such an extreme form of asceticism that entering a higher
state of consciousness is almost unavoidable for the practitioner. In this state, where the materiality of
his/her own body and the surrounding nature are basically being denied any functional meaning, it is
frequent and easy to encounter the various beings which are believed to inhabit the alam katriyan. The
energy which is forcibly released around the practitioners spot is said to attract other fine masses of energy
near the water. Interpreted as spirits or others, it is eventually the goal of the practitioner to come into
contact with these and ultimately to coerce them into helping him/her.

Joko and Agus both confirmed the advantage of this method as opposed to tapa in crowded places
such as the royal mausoleum at Kota Ged and Imogiri or other popular sendang (pools)25. Evidently, they add, it
is much more demanding than the more accessible forms of tapa, consisting usually of fasting or meditative
contemplation lasting hours and even days, but the results are supposedly far faster and greater in magnitude
than one could possibly expect with a collective type of ritual such as the ones named above. This is a very
important point, since people who are ready to go through very risky ordeals to attain mystical powers generally
believe very pragmatically that the strenuous path they follow will guarantee immediate results at a much higher
intensity, compared to a more gentle way of approaching the dunia lain (litt. other world) through regular
meditative practice. It is important to distinguish this difference in emphasis because it seems obvious that
people who have aspirations to become dukun or healersthus to consciously provide services and who rely on
their mystically gained knowledge and powers to do sowant these powers and communicative abilities with the
invisible to come both rapidly and convincingly in the eyes of their customers. At the snapping of fingers, one
could say. In essence this rapidity and familiarity with the invocation of invisible powers and beings is
determined by the arduousness of the mystical training that one is ready to go through.

23
see paragraph 3.3.1
24
Two rivers flowing into each other to become one perfectly symbolizes the Manunggaling concept of kejawen: the divine reality
becomes one with the reality of men.
25
Sendang are sacred manmade pools, many dating from Hindu Buddhist times, where people come to bathe while praying and
giving an offer. In return the local dhanyang (resident spirit) would help to arrange their problems, whatever these may be. In
Kasihan, southwest of Yogyakarta, a famous sendang is located which would inevitably be crowded on Jumat kliwon nights
44
 The ultimate purpose of such mystical brotherhoods is indeed the capacity to invoke the invisible
powers and to later implement them, which comes instinctively as the consequence of a strong will, thought or
suggestion. Agus once told me that what really distinguished dukun and certain mystics from ordinary people
was not merely the ability to experience the other world of our present reality (known alternatively as alam ghaib,
alam roh, dunia lain or alam katriyan) or to encounter spirits occasionally. That type of experience, good or bad, is
logically given to anyone. The point is to achieve this type of experience at will, in a very intuitively controlled
manner and preferably as swift as possible. Moreover, specific powers or spirits have to be invoked in
accordance with specific needs.
To return to the rendam exercise, Joko and Agus both stated eloquently that its purpose was not just to
meet any type of kasar (vulgar) spirits, while one would be fighting the cold of the flowing waters, but to direct
the power of suggestion that inevitably comes with such an important release of tenaga dalam towards the calling
upon of important respectable ancestor spirits. Indeed, the ability to call upon the wise advice of personalities
such as Raja Browijoyo or Sunan Kalijaga is considered the crme de la crme in the art of dukun. The sacred
advice delivered by these higher beings is used in divination and problem with decision making. Nearly every
Javanese would blindly abide to it if he knew it came through the mouth of a reputable dukun or mystic. Agus
told me about the above-mentioned spirits making impressive apparitions during one such all-night rendam :
He said the natural surroundings had totally changed when he opened his eyes during the wet meditation,
and suddenly the earth started trembling, volcanoes were erupting and the water level of the river had risen
dramatically. Chaos all around, but he knew he couldnt budge to the delusive phenomena which came his
way. After a perilous fight to remain calm against the scenery of adverse elements, everything returned to a
state of calm and a figure appeared on the riverbank. Agus recognized a saint-like figure who presented
himself as Sunan Kalijaga. The apparition saw that Agus was trying hard to become a mystical pundit in the
likes of his grandfather. It thus offered him secret knowledge that would guarantee him success if he
promised to only work towards the beauty and harmony of this world, including manusia (humankind) and
nature. A spirit guru was to accompany Agus to teach and help him find the right path in conducting his life
as a healer and a mystic.

Stories make a reputation

Although such stories are hard to evaluate here for their ethnographic validity, I am nonetheless
concerned with the impact that they have on the psyche of the dukun in relation to his activities. Such fantastic
stories, told throughout the entirety of the province, convey an aura of authority to the one to whom these
things are said to have happened. Perilous metaphysical feats of the sort like all-night rendam or nrogosukmo are
usually witnessed by some friends or other practitioners, and the stories that they bring forth originate from the
informal recollections of these witnesses after the fact. Stories risk becoming rumours, but the occasional
Javanese who gets exposed to these stories will often silently record the name of the dukun who is mentioned in
them. Who knows? He might one day get sick or need a divination, sell his land or solicit a new job... It is
interesting to listen to this discourse, since this is often what makes or what breaks the reputation of a dukun in
the eyes of the public. Agus adventures with the alam gaib are famous with his old friends for the simple fact that

45
he was considered to have literally passed away for a few days while performing extreme ascetic exercises. Joko is
also attributed to such a feat.

After he was found lying immobile in his backyard by a mango tree showing no sign of heart activity in the
pulse, he was later buried. He reappeared to his mother three days later, dressed in the white cloth reserved
for mayat (cadaver). He explained the incident as a dream into which he had been absorbed, feeling it had
only lasted three hours while in reality it had lasted three days. He did not, and still does not remember
anything from the burial or from what had happened just before he passed away. He only knew he woke up
in his mothers bedroom when she came in and shrieked at seeing him on the bed dressed in his funeral
gown.

What is important is the fact that this anecdote about Joko is retained by friends and clients alike and
often mentioned to other people who are getting to know Joko for the first time. Depending on the client, this
story and other ones which carry a certain contravening weight may be spread to a larger public. The truth is that
every Javanese I met always knew to mention about at least one dukun because of a particular spiritual feat of the
latter.
Shalim, the abovementioned friend of both Joko and Agus, told me that he had broken contact with
Agus ever since Agus had tried to push the limits of astral travel for a second time by going beyond the
technique of nrogosukmo where ones ghost basically leaves the physical envelope of the body and travels in the
world of spirits or elsewhere in this world. The story, known by different people, goes as follows:

Agus one day decided, after a serious bout of mystical readings of past kejawen teachers, to take his own
physical life and attempt to continue on in his astral form in order to experience the revelation of the
divine essence of the universe. He promised his wife he would come back to mortal life after the
experience had succeeded. Agus locked himself up in a room and ingested the contents of a bottle of rat-
poison. His wife had panicked and called Shalim to come over and persuade her young husband to return
to reason. But by the time Shalim had forced the door-lock of the room in which Agus had killed himself,
it was too late and the face of his friend had turned blue due to severe asphyxia. Shalim understood what
Agus wife reported to him about her husbands intentions. It was not the first time he had heard these
plans from the mouth of his friend, and thus kept confident while he waited by his corpse on the bed
through the rest of that night. Before sunrise he saw Agus body tremble and violently spitting blood, but
slowly coming back to life. Agus had proven that he was capable of performing racut, an extreme form of
astral flight where the adepts soul is said to go beyond the realm of the living to visit the one of the dead
and to return from it. Halim stated that he had never been so shaken prior to that in his life, as he had
heard of mystics performing self-death like this but had never witnessed it first hand. He had a heavy
argument with his friend for showing an irreverent irresponsibility towards his wife and family.

Agus later confirmed the story with a wry smile on his face, denying the reality of the danger, for a
higher revelation had called and convinced him to do it. Prior to performing it he had moreover consulted the
petangan (numerical astrological listings) for the appropriateness of the timing. Agus had also read specific esoteric
primbon (book of spiritual practices, ilmu and the way to prepare offerings) dealing with the ilmu racut.
46
 Shalim, for his part, told me that this episode had signified a break in his relationship with Agus, on
the count that he had gone too far according to Shalims standards. The latter admitted that he himself had no
intention to seek sanctity or enlightenment at this price, and defended his weakness by stating that his priorities
lie first with his family and not with mystical achievements of the type. Shalim nevertheless had an enormous
esteem for the powers that Agus was able to generate, and went on to tell me the single most troubling element
that he knew about Agus. The fact of the matter is that Agus acquaintances sometimes call him by the nickname
Semar, referring to the old sage/ half-god of the Wayang Purwa stories. The reason for this, besides the
familiarity that Agus demonstrates with dealing with the invisible world of ancestors and spirits, is a physical
feature undeniably linked to this mythological character. Indeed, he has a small tuft of white hair growing on the
top of his head, surrounded by the black hair natural to Javanese people. The story which both Joko and Agus
confirmed goes like this:

One day, Agus felt it was required of him by some omen to perform a three day and night tapa
to attain understanding of a mystical riddle. During a dream he had envisioned a place in the mountains, a
wind swept hilltop with forest covering the slopes, were many notorious Javanese sages had meditated
before. When he woke up, he told his friends he had to go right away to the place in question which was
no other than a hill named Mbanglampir, in the low mountainous region of south Gunungkidul district.
From the records it was known that Mbanglampir had been a place of choice for Senopati (the founder
of the 16th century Mataram empire) to perform tapa and other ascetic exercises. It was also known that
court officials, Sultans, dukun, politicians, the two former Presidents and many others came there to
perform tapa in the Senopati tradition. It is reputed to be a place of immense potential power, and the
privileged ones obtain either sacred pusaka (heirloom) or wangsit (divine revelation). Agus, listening to
none other than his inner voice, departed at once in the middle of the night towards the famed hill, and
insisted on going barefoot. The distance between his village Jogonalan and Giri Sekar (closest village near
Mbanglampir) is estimated to be almost 60 kilometres, by foot an entire day of walking for the fit. He
spent the next four days and nights in tacit meditation on the windswept hilltop, having been let in by the
local juru kunci (spiritual guardian of sacred spots, appointed by the Sultan himself). When he came down,
invigorated and perfectly healthy, Agus appeared with the permanent white tuft of hair on his head,
whereas before his scalp had been totally black. His friends were all mesmerized by this, there was no
trick and surely he had received some type of divine wangsit during his tapa.

Incidents like these tend to make Javanese imagination run wild, but no one will dismiss the seriousness of
the situation at hand. This public awe only contributed to Agus reputation, as I could witness from the
convincing attitude of some of his clients in the practice towards the Semar-like feature of their healer. In
the next chapter we will see how the fantastic powers in these dukun reputations and stories, garnered
through rigorous ascetic exercises, are put to use in their varied activities as public dukun.

47
 Chapter 4: Dukun (1)

Dukun, or Indonesian shamans, have been part of Indonesian culture since pre-history. They have played
a major role in Indonesian society as curer, priest, magician, sorcerer, sage and basically one that can help
alleviate or eliminate both physical and psychological problems. The dukun of Java base their practice on
Javanese mysticism or kejawen, which is an essential element of Javas unique culture and identity. Geertzs 1950s
study of Javanese religion and culture contains comprehensive insights into the role of the dukun. However since
then, literature regarding this role is limited. As mentioned in Chapter 1, Indonesia has experienced major
changes and influences in its turbulent history in terms of religion, politics, ideology, economics and culture.
Throughout these changes, the dukun have maintained their significant role, one that has evolved, adapted and
diversified yet also retained its ancient roots.
This research attempted to provide a view into the position and role of some dukun in the province of
Yogyakarta, and to tentatively discern pertinent reasons for why dukun are still, and even in an increasing
number, consulted to resolve a variety of problems which are related to clients personal welfare. My
assumption is that besides attending to problems of physical and psychological nature, certain so-considered
powerful dukun play a role in overcoming societal challenges of a more secular nature such as the acquisition of
wealth and status, success in business or professional positions or simply the obtainment of a competitive job.
These types of consultations are not new in the range of demands to which dukun generally attend, but clearly an
interesting link can be imagined between the rise in such consultations and the pervasive spread of a culture of
consumption ideology which has been noted by several observers of Javanese and Indonesian society26.
Another more immediate link connects dukun with the practice of mysticism which is seen by many as
an alternative way to arrive at harmonyand assumingly to provide a certain type of welfarein a period of
social and economical confusion. Several of my informants played an active role in the teaching of kebatinan and
as Ward Keeler noted (1987; 235), dukun are thought, just like some dalang, to be both possessors and
transmitters of traditional wisdom. Through their activities, they can thus also be viewed as cultural agents or
brokers, consciously or unconsciously reinforcing a certain kejawen worldview.
An important finding in this study on the role of dukun then revolves around the perceived welfare
that dukun and other mystical practitioners are seen to provide, which could explain an alleged increase in the
profession of dukun, their clients, and their mediated popularity. First a definition of dukun is given, with an
explanation of various terminology associated to dukun, based on the observations of other researchers and the
feedback from clients and dukun themselves. Subsequently, four dukun will be presented and their experiences
analysed against the background of current modern society as it is in Yogyakarta.

26
A pertinent study which revealed this link is for example Martin van Bruinessens research amongst the poor urban migrants of
Bandung in the eighties. The observations on the position of dukun in this setting, although quite dated, are particularly revelatory
in the context of my own research argument. More recently, Romain Bertrand extends this point to include the more politically and
economically dominant classes as well in a Java after the krismon. (See: van Bruinessen 1988, Bertrand 2002)

48
 4.1 Definition and terminology.

Varieties of dukun

As mentioned above, the Javanese equivalent for indigenous healer and/or shaman is dukun, a word
which is used to indicate various part and full-time practitioners. Of the better definitions of what a dukun might
represent, Roy E. Jordaans use of the term magico-medical specialists seems to me to be the one most
pertinent to the subject. By this he indicates that it is not possible to make a clear-cut distinction between dukun
as magicians and dukun as medical practitioners. This is because, he argues, all dukun rely more or less on
supernatural abilities, which is what distinguishes them from modern medical practitioners (Jordaan 1985: 162).
More importantly, he states, local villagers do not necessarily distinguish between specialists in magic and
practitioners in native medicine, and this is because medicine, magic and religion are seen as parts of an
indivisible reality along the same continuum (ibid).
Jordaan provides extremely detailed information about the Madurese dukon in all its varieties and this
can be compared to the Javanese dukun in an almost identical way (ibid: 174-194). His classification of the
various specialists is highly judicious as it uses the variables of medical and magical to position them according to
their specific activities (ibid: 163). For instance the kyai or dukun sarat, terms which are also used in Yogyakarta,
are closer to the magical pole of Jordaans illustration of this continuum, whereas dukun jhamo (J. dukun jamu) is
closer to the medical pole. The former are known to have formidable magical powers whereas the latter is a keen
specialist of medicinal herbs. Both work towards diagnosing and treating disease and illness although different
ones and in a very different fashion. It is important to note that Jordaans classification of dukun along magical
or medical pole is an arbitrary tool as many dukun are able to perform various specialties at once, depending
upon the need. The specific practitioner may thus have a different position on the graph depending upon the
moment.
What is important to point out is that dukun who are known to treat illness and other problems with
the use of magical cures rather than more profane and accessible knowledge and skills are usually held in higher
esteem since their cures translate the strength of their inner spiritual power (kasekten or kakuawatan batin). To
hold such power and let it manifest through healing or other altruistic or honest activities is a phenomenon
which is highly regarded in traditional Javanese culture (see 1.3.3). It shows the practitioners discipline in
asceticism and spiritual surrender. The belief in the efficiency of the supernatural specialists goes along with the
concomitant indigenous belief that a disease need not have been generated physically. Indeed disease, illness, and
also many other problematic occurrences are often thought to be caused by supernatural or occult forces and
agents: spirit possession, sorcery, divine karmic punishment, and so on. Jordaan makes a case in discussing the
disease etiology of Madurese by comparing the folk-medicine system with the naturalistic and personalistic
systems elaborated by Foster. (1976, quoted by Jordaan 1985)
As in Madura, Javanese agree that illness or other problems can be triggered by natural conditions, but
it is believed that these conditions themselves may be influenced by supernatural circumstances. In a prevalent
kejawen conception of the cosmos, Javanese consider the natural world as being permeated by the supernatural.
Furthermore, many see the operation of natural forces as dependent on supernatural circumstances. This is why
49
dukun and traditional self-help are often still chosen above the care of doctors in local Puskesmas27 or hospitals.
To treat the symptoms along western medical guidelines may prove to be insufficient as the supernatural causes
of the disease or complication are often left unresolved. Indeed, additional ritualistic and herbalist measures need
to be taken to restore a metaphysical balance of the essential elements. If the problem is grave, exorcism and
spiritual powers are often used to chase unwelcome invisible agents and forces. In the latter case, practitioners
who are reputed to command high levels of kasekten (spiritual power) are consulted to attend to the problem.
In an ambivalent manner, such people may also be viewed suspiciously by members of the community
at times where inexplicable problems occur or in times of crisis, merely on the suspicion that the powers to heal
can easily be reverted and inflict damage. The fine line between what is generally called white magic and its evil
reflection black magic or sorcery, is crossed as people of different creeds interpret the activities of a dukun or
any mystic practitioner differently (see below).
Clifford Geertz, in his famous study of religious activities in the east Javanese town of Modjokuto,
indeed opens his chapter on dukun saying that there are all kinds of dukun, following with a long list of
different terminologies of dukun according to their specialization. (Geertz 1960: 91-106) This list is roughly
similar to Jordaans Madurese list (Jordaan 1985:161). Thus there are different fields of expertise that are
apparent in the name ascribed to the dukun. For example an expert in making land fertile and guaranteeing good
harvests is called a dukun wiwit, a spirit medium is a dukun prewangan, bridal decoration and love affairs are the
problems of a dukun paes, a midwife is called dukun bayi (Geertz 1960). Moreover, other titles, such as kyai or
akhli kebatinan, usually associated with religious ritual are used to refer to dukun who have a highly regarded
spiritual power. Because of the common belief in their magical powers, such specialists are frequently solicited to
help someone make him/herself universally attractive to the opposite sex, a quality acquired through the
possession of a talisman or jimat. The qualities of strength and invulnerability, also acquired through possession
of a dukuns amulet, are very popular requests as well.
Next to these categories there is the type of dukun who is associated with harmful magic, in Central
Java, often known as dukun sihir or d. santet. An essential characteristic of these sorcerer dukun is that they are
often believed to employ the services of evil spirits, whom in many cases are being tended as spirit-companions.
The typology of dukun sihir who perform the ilmu santet or black magic (also known colloquially as tenun and guna-
guna) is in fact an arbitrary one, depending on the individual perspective of the person involved. Firstly, dukun
who perform malign sorcery will rarely advertise themselves as such, and this is therefore not a self-defining
category as is often the case with the previous examples of categories. Instead, they speak of themselves as
dukun with special healing powers, where some will then suggest that they may employ those powers for
malevolent purposes. Secondly, it is more often the community that will ascribe to a dukun this power to
perform malign magic. Within any community, some individuals may regard a specialist simply as a dukun, with
no other moral conception of him, while others may regard the same specialist as having primarily evil
intentions, most often if they are influenced by reformist Muslim dogmas, or the modern santri.
It is noteworthy to add that the dukun santet are nearly always strangers to the community of accusers.
James Siegel in his article on the witch massacres of Banyuwangi in the summer of 1998, discusses the

27
Puskesmas are sub-district level clinics.
50
importance of the local identity or asal-usul, formalized by the KTP identity card, and how the recognition by the
community of being familiar or stranger mattered enormously in the accusations of murder of alleged sorcerers.
(Siegel 2001: 27-29) Black magic witches, it is assumed, could only be outsiders of the victims community, and
reciprocally murderers of suspected witches are thought to be strangers by the relatives of that sorcerer. This
situation easily creates a collective paranoia which in turn produces the horrible acts of communal justice, known
as massa diamuk in Indonesia. According to some of my informants, there is also further ambiguousness for a
genuine dukun sihir to actually have the awesome reputation of being an evil dukun, since this is a reputation of
which they can make an income. If this was not the case, there would not be much impetus to perform sorcery
and gravely disturb the harmony of a given social relationship. Acts of sorcery can more or less easily be
countered by an experienced dukun, but since this latter nearly always will discover the identity of the sorcerer
and his solicitorwho in most cases is familiar to the victimthe emotional relational rupture that this
discovery entails usually never gets pardoned (Personal communication). The feuds between people of the same
community that this involves are long-lived and can manifest themselves in violent outbursts, where sorcery is
used along with punitive vendettas. In the sometimes extreme polarized political climate around an election
period, such feuds tend to appear in increasing numbers, and I could observe that certain dukun are solicited
more than usual for acts of anti-sorcery or pacification between antagonists.
At the same time, some of my informants admit they perform malign magic from time to time when it
concerns a noble cause. Asked what they understood to be noble, they replied that sorcery is acceptable when it
is to find for example a culprit of some crime, return a stolen object, or to give clues as to where a criminal is
hiding. I have received testimony of a few dukun relating to such acts of sorcery on criminals, whose actions all
received the approval of witnesses. It is not necessary to relate them all, as the methods used are very similar and
are known in anthropology as sympathetic magic. Someone on the run who has been identified or has left some
personal items behind, has basically few chances to remain unharmed for long if a skilled dukun has been asked
to solve the case. Police and army often become dukun clients when such a need is inevitable. Joko and Pak
Kuman, a good friend and fellow assiduous mystical practitioner, both tell me that usually culprits who have
been spotted by a dukun become so mentally tortured with horrifying visions that they turn themselves in
voluntarily.

Indigenous Terminology

Because of the potentially negative connotation of the word dukun, many practitioners prefer not to
be called dukun even when they are popularly referred to as such. This attitude is something I often
encountered during the fieldwork. While most informants would deny that they were dukun, they were
comfortable with being referred to as Ki or Kyai, orang maghrifat or orang pinter. These were terms used by friends,
relatives and other people who were positively acquainted to the dukun, when they would refer to his
occupation. The term dukun, I was told, may be an appropriate word to describe a general type of practitioner
who is willing to publicly offer his magical and medical skills. This is how the public and the media use the term,
but it is too general or sensitive to aptly describe a specific person with whom one has a direct relation; whether
as a client, pupil or relative. Wong or orang pinter (also known as wong tuwa) is used for anybody who shows some
51
dexterity in activities related to the supernatural, such as divining, connecting with spirits or finding lost objects.
Ki and orang maghrifat are highly honourable titles since they indicate that the person is a holder of a high degree
of inner power (kakuawatan batin) and that his batin, his inner self, must by extension be extremely pure. Kyai
usually indicates a religious teacher of Islam doctrine and literature; but in the nominal Muslim abangan tradition,
they often double as healers and mystical teachers. Moreover, according to the son of one Kyai in Krapyak, ,
many Kyai are known as respected guru of martial arts and esoteric knowledge of invincibility (kakebalan) through
the teachings of Sufist Tassawuf in the Pesantren Muslim boarding schools where they teach. Maghrifat is the last
and highest stage in the practice of mysticism, where ones inner self has blended with the universal soul and
thus becomes a representative of God on earth. To be recognized as such by the greater public is quite an
honour. It validates the notion that since the dukun is considered pure of batin, he necessarily has a high moral
and religious integrity, and consequently is unable to perform gratuitous evil.
Two of my informants, Agus and Joko, were sometimes considered to have the latter reputation. But
here again the terminology is arbitrary, as some pious orthodox merchants told me that they considered dukun
anybody who performed unauthorized activities with spirits and ghosts to reach their goal; they felt that these
dukun were playing with forces which only Allah had the right to manipulate. In this definition, Agus and Joko
would have fit as well. In the eyes of some orthodox Muslim, the term dukun represents everything remaining
from the old Javanese culture which should be banned as it contravenes the sacred tenets of the Koran.
(Personal communication) Taken together, the word dukun is indeed ambiguous and problematic, but since
there is no better collective term which is so widely used, I will continue to use it throughout the paper.

4.2 Studying dukun and their activities

The anecdote on dukun and other mystical masters involvement in political parties (see p. 37)
reinforces my belief that studying such specialistsand the atypical world they tend to represent28is a more
than valid and arguably underestimated approach to analyse and explain wider aspects and developments of
Indonesian society.
Studies on the choice of health alternatives amongst Javanese and other Indonesian cultural groups
have previously echoed this belief, in particular Reurinks research in Yogyakarta. (Reurink 1992)29 My own
interest lies more particularly with the contemporary fascination of Javanese, young and old, for the supernatural
rewards gained via ascetic rituals or dukun consultations. These rewards are seen to downplay frustrations and
setbacks that are directly or indirectly related to modern consumer ideology and the simultaneous economical
crisis. Martin van Bruinessens study of migrant settlers in Bandung in the early eighties perfectly demonstrates
this point as far as the success of dukun in this highly urbanized setting is concerned. The authors surprise at the

28
Atypical from a western rational perspective, that is.
29
See also the studies in this ethno-medical field by Cynthia L. Hunter amongst the Sasak of Lombok (1997, 2000), and by Roy
Jordaan (1985) and R. Sciortino (1987) in Madura and Java respectively.
52
compatibility of an (falsely) alleged rural tradition in the harsh urban environment of Bandung reveals the
effectiveness and popularity of dukun activities to ease the societal frustrations and problems that come with a
modern way of life. This popularity, according to the author stems from the belief that supernatural treatment is
efficient in the cases of disease, economic difficulties, and career and partner problems. (van Bruinessen 1988:
35-65) What is peculiar is that these traditional spheres of activities of dukun are somehow magnified in a
stressful urban setting, in direct relation with the poor urban situation. (ibid: 22) This observation reflects my
own findings in the Yogyakarta setting of the post-Krismon period.
Dukun cannot be looked at in a simplistic manner as some sort of marginal actors (healers, soothsayers
or spirit mediums) inside the social communities, since in my view they are deeply integrated in that particular
culture and as members of it they may play an openly active role. This role may prove to be of relative influence
on developments inside Javanese society. Their sphere of influence indeed reaches from the familial levels to the
higher levels of the Indonesian political and economical spheres, depending on the background of the clients. A
revelation by a notable Yogyanese mystic, indicating that no president or high political and military figure ever
appears publicly without his or her dukun (or other kyai or spiritual expert), made a deep impression on me.
Romain Bertrand indeed argues that this functions to earn the validation of the public, who is usually aware of
the particular role of paranormal sentinel of this figure, and who recognizes this as an inherent element of
leadership harking back to the tradition of the Raja-King figure. (Bertrand 2002).
Joko testified about the regular habit in the nineties by ex-President Suharto to summon to the Istana
Cendana (Presidential palace in Jakarta) a dozen powerful dukun from Central and East Java to help him with
decisions or to simply secure his personal safety, with the help of some of his closest courtiers such as General
Humardhani Soedjono. Back in early 1998, one of Jokos clients was indeed a high ranking general who drove
especially once a month from Jakarta to Gamping for personal as well as professional problems. The following
comes from my notes at that time:

The generals chauffeur would wait outside in Jokos courtyard in the shiny black Mercedes with the military
license plate indicating the high official position of his employer. While this latter, accompanied by his wife,
were being hosted by Joko inside, he would confide to me across the blue smoke of our kretek about the
headaches that Colonel Prabowo and KOPASSUS (the elite troops of the Indonesian ABRI army) was
providing the rest of the government with, but that no, the poor-health fits of the generals wife were surely
due to something else than the daily pressure under which her husband was working lately and anyway Joko was
to find that outAccording to chauffeur, the General, and others in Jakarta, had complete confidence in Joko
for such things.

To understand what someone like Joko, an apparently ordinary villager, could mean or offer to a five-
star ABRI30 general from Jakarta, I was compelled to examine the figure of dukun in Javanese society more
closely. As Joko was already a friend and business partner by then, it was obvious I would seek clarification on
the topic from him first. He accepted quite readily to become an informant of sorts, and soon proposed to teach
me some rudimentary practice of kebatinan mysticism as well. When I returned to Yogya to perform a more

30
Formerly known as ABRI, the Indonesian army is now known as TNI (Tentara Nasional Indonesia).
53
systematic fieldwork, he introduced me to other healers and paranormal practitioners. Here follows some
anecdotes on these informants through which analysis thereof the role of the dukun hopefully can be revealed.
In particular, their experiences, starting with Jokos, may be shown to reflect the argument that they represent
much more than just healers as they are seen to provide a certain form of welfare.

4.3 Joko

The duty to help: A mixed blessing

My first questions to Joko involved the perception that he had of himself as a dukun in particular, and
if relevant, on the role of dukun in general. Ward Keeler starts his paragraph on dukun by noting that appeals to
wong tuwa and dukun for assistance in matters of kebatinan are culturally approved and very frequent, and that in
his opinion almost everyone in Java has occasion at some point to consult a dukun. (Keeler 1982: 212-13) The
client requests that he mentionsfrom improving ones profit in trade or assuring success in ones bid for a job
or bureaucratic rank, to curing and love-magicare all duties which Joko confirms are possible in the daily cases
that he gets confronted with. The word duty is rather problematic here.
Joko said that being recognized as a dukun by others was a mixed blessing. By this he meant that while
his ultimate desire was really to make it as a trader in handicrafts for export-markets, as a dukun it became a duty
to serve the guests who came for help. It dawned on me that he was not totally a dukun by choice, at least not at
that time. Throughout his earlier life as a talented murid of mystical gurus and as he increasingly displayed
formidable powers to cure (amongst other applications), people, initially just his family and neighbours, started to
come to him for all kinds of ailments and problems, mostly through word of mouth. Because of his belief that
his powers are the blessing of Tuhan (God), he takes the attitude that he cannot refuse to help someone who is
requesting his services to solve a problem as long as it does not involve santet or any other form of black magic
which is essentially considered evil. This altruistic attitude is something often recognized in reputed mystical
practitioners who prefer humility to fame. (Geertz 1960:94) It is a quality, I was told, which goes along with the
traditional kejawen lessons of self-effacement, but which stands in contrast with the unabashed mediatic touting
of some modern-day dukun of the rich and famous, many of whom are considered to be frauds or fakes.
I was witness to the never-ending stream of clients and friends who would come by his house
whenever he was at home. Sometimes people came sporadically, with consultations then taking longer as there
was more time for a chat over tea and numerous kretek. At other times there would be one group after the other
(clients rarely show up alone, they are usually accompanied by a friend or a relative), and people would be waiting
outside in the front yard. Moreover, Jokos cell-phone would recurrently ring with other clients setting future
appointments or asking for lottery predictions. I could understand his decision to rent a warehouse close by
where he could work on handicrafts with a team of friends and neighbours. He explained that it alleviated the
burden of consecutive consultations both on him and his family. This ambivalent situation where ones
reputation as a performing healer becomes potentially too heavy to carry, succinctly shows that the profession

54
of dukun is made or unmade by the clients more than by the conscious efforts of the practitioner to establish
him/herself as a dukun.
In the days that followed the incidents with the wooden beams (see introduction, on which I will
elaborate below), I repeatedly visited Jokos homestead, not as much for the furniture anymore as out of
curiosity about his peculiar qualities and the fascinating stories that these engendered. I was fortunate since he
was very open and had no objection to my sitting in during his consultations, as irregularly as they might occur.
Most clients would indeed literally jump in the door or give him but a few hours notice, whereas some would
have arranged a meeting days in advance. This was especially the case with people who came from other regions,
even from as far as Surabaya, Jakarta, Lampung, Medan or once Malacca. Most of those latter patients obviously
knew him from previous consultations, and Joko had spent his younger days roaming around the archipelago
(especially Sumatra and Kalimantan), practicing with local gurus. But he told me that frequently people came
who had heard about his reputation by word of mouth, and this would sometimes annoy his wife since often
perfect strangers would show up at his home.
She told me she had learned to live with it, and that things were better than three years ago when he
had started a praktek (a practice) together with one of his mystically inclined friends, Pak Heri. She found it
insane because Joko and his friend would be busy all day helping people. They opened the praktek at Jokos
house as they did not have enough funds to rent an office somewhere else. After the first days, people were
lining up outside the door by 9 AM and would continue to queue past 6 PM, so they decided to rent out a
private office in nearby Nanggulan. Their reputation dramatically gained in popularity without even having put a
single ad out. The truth of the matter is that they had not expected such a hectic pace and volume. He became
aware that after a few consecutive consultations the accurateness of their powers would diminish drastically due
to the constant appeals. This manner of making his living, he realised, was not appealing to him or his family.
After a mere three weeks, they called it quits. This was not a dramatic decision for Heri and Joko as they looked
at this work of offering their services for the benefits of others as an exercise in their mystical path to ilmu
kasempurnaan (the perfect knowledge).
It needs to be noted that Heri and Joko left it to the customers discretion as to the price for their
services, whether monetary or in nature. Joko remarked that this should be the way of the real dukun and
mystical teachers. They cannot directly request remittance for their service, but the understanding between
dukun and client is one based on the concept of sukarela, essentially a system of individual donation. What this
means is that everyone gives in relation to their own resources. In practice a farmer would leave the dukun some
rice or agricultural foodstuff, a shop owner would offer batik clothes or cookies, a politician or businessman
would leave money or guarantee facilities and so on. Indeed a very arbitrary system, but always balanced and
striving for a certain level of harmony. Joko says that when he visits a friend or an acquaintance that needs help,
a sum equal to a full tank of gasoline is usually given though it is not the rule. In fact, he affirms on his behalf
the provider of supernatural interventionsthat he no longer cares about that aspect of the service. It should
not be on a mystics mind, he explained; it is irrelevant, mystically speaking, since what is regarded as being
important is really the karmic flow that is generated by the helping of people who are genuinely in need.

55
 The spiritual ethic of kejawen forcefully comes to the surface here and its core maxim sepi ing pamrih,
ram ing gaw, mamayu hayuning buwono has been reflected by Jokos action31. Joko indeed views his activity as a
dukun as an obligation towards Tuhan, since it is this godly entity which provides him with certain powers, and
consequentially it must be for the benefit of the client as much as the curer. One tacit prerogative is that he may
not seek out potential clients consciously; rather they must come to him by their own free will. This is an
additional reason why he decided to quit the public practice. He interpreted the unease of the venture, the work
overload, the familial stress, the draining of his magical powers (potentially fatal to him), as the karmic
consequence of divine disapproval of the idea of being a public dukun, at least in his case. Be this as it may, the
praktek in Nanggulan experience brought him definite name recognition in the region. His brother told me that
after he had stopped going to Nanggulan, people started coming again for visits at his home in Gamping. As I
said earlier, I am witness to the frequency with which this happens, as well as the amount of pleas he receives on
his cell-phone nowadays. The stress brought upon by the praktek in Nanggulan in the nineties lead to his work
as a handicrafts dealer, with the hopes that there would be relative freedom from the insatiable clients that would
otherwise flood his house.
The situation in 1998 had stabilized when I first met him, in the words of his wife, to more or less five
visits a day usually in the evening. When I came back in 2003, his handicraft enterprise had evolved. It was
interesting to see that at times of low activity when he was consequentially staying at home more often, the
numbers of visitors and related cell phone calls increased dramatically. It would not be exceptional to have a
client come every hour throughout the day until well after ten PM. This was fine for me considering my purpose
in Yogyakarta. But more importantly I saw how working in handicraft manufacturing and sales, far from being
the desperate money-making venture out of foreign capital that characterizes many furniture and craft businesses
around the region, allowed Joko to attain a balance in his life both as a dukun and personally for his family.

Magically charged objects (1): Ngruwatan

The following section deals with the widespread belief of the capacity of objects to serve as the
recipient to a resident-ghost. This particular belief has important ramifications for the dukun trade, as they are
thought to be experts at manipulating these objects and spirits for the benefit of humans.
Indeed, there is an inherent belief amongst Javanese that particular material objects may become the
recipient for invisible hosts called penunggu (literally spirits in waiting), and that these are usually thought as
guardians or protectors of the person who owns the object. This is best illustrated with the love of Javanese for
sacred keris (stylized dagger) or precious stones which are said to be materialized sources of power. In Jathilan,
the folkloric trance-dance which make use of hobbyhorses and demonic masks, the crux of the performance lie
in the possession of the dancers by spirits thought to reside in those two specific objects. Objects from keris to
masks and antique statues which are occasionally found in the rice fields or near small creeks, are given extra care
by their owners through regular cleansing, incense burning or gifts of aromatic flowers. Inside houses and other
structures, another type of object is often found either pinned to the ceiling or dug underground. It consists of

31
As a reference, Niels Mulders concise explanation of the ethic and philosophy of kejawen mysticism is one of the best efforts to
this day by a western author (Mulder 1998, pp 59-69).
56
rolled up leaflets with an Arabic prayer or mantra inscribed on it: these are called radjah, and they are believed to
have a magical effect if the spell is done correctly. These protective charms are the exclusive work of some
specialized dukun or wong tua who possess the power of magnetism, that is to force a spirit to reside inside the
object and make it help the owner of the object.
Joko told me that in the old days, when wooden beams were still the main material used in the
structure of houses, they would be the location of the magnetized spirit-protector chosen by dukun. Sometimes
the dukun would pick a tree in the wild which he considered to contain an apt spirit to serve as protector of the
family;
He would mount a ritual to honour the spirit inside the tree and ask forgiveness for the cutting of the tree,
ask it to accept to remain there and to help the residents of the house against drawbacks such as burglary or
destructive storms and so on.
In the area of Yogyakarta, Joko is known to be such a specialist of spirit manipulation, and he is often asked to
help officials, police and villagers to examine places or objects which are suspected of being anker, or haunted
and which may be at the origin of a particular problem. In contrast, he is often asked to induce spirits to reside in
places and objects which are then supposed to benefit the owner of the place or object in some way. The first
operation of removal of spiritual disturbance is usually referred to as ngruwat or pindah (to move out). The
second one, involving the invitation of a spirit to reside near a client towards helping the latter is called pengasihan,
and if it is intended to bring the client riches and material wealth it is known as pasugihan. The successive
operations of pengasihan and ngruwatan are interesting in the sense that these are frequently solicited by clients to
dukun such as Joko, the results of these operations are always aimed at a gain for the client. During the fieldwork
in 2003, I was amazed at how many of Jokos consultations were dedicated to these latter activities and less to
mere curing or healing. He admitted that since 1998 demand for pengasihan had risen dramatically as it was seen
to be efficient to fight drawbacks stemming from the poor economic and political situation.
In the first anecdote, an operation of ngruwatan was performed around mid-1998 for the benefit of a
client, who in this case was me. It took place somewhere in the hills in the Kulonprogo region, east of Yogya,
where according to Joko there was a supply of old teak to be had from the granary of a farmer. He wanted me to
come along by motorcycle to see the product for myself and eventually to purchase it on the spot before
someone else would place a bid. Joko had arranged to have a friends truck to come pick it up and bring it back
to Gamping.

In short, we arrived at the farmers house and tried to haul the wood onto the truck. Even with six people,
the beams could not be lifted! Joko was forced to improvise a ritual, surrounded by the whole population
of the hamlet. He called it a ngruwatan, and it was meant to retrieve the penunggu (resident spirit) from the
wood. After much mantra-whispering, trembling and offerings of incense and flowers, Joko got up and
smiled to indicate that the wood could be safely loaded onto the truck. This time there was no problem at
all! We drove down to Yogya but the truck broke down a few times on the way, and this situation required
another small ritual on the side of the road with Joko bent over whispering to the wooden beams.

I thought he would show us a little coloured stone in his hand, as I had already seen him perform this
trick a week before with different beam (see Introduction). During that prior occasion, he had asked a carpenter
57
to cut a beam across a certain spot. When the two parts were later separated, a little yellow stone had fallen out
of a small cavity in the middle section of the wood. I thought after the fact that this was biologically impossible,
since how does a semi-precious stone occur in the heart of a wooden trunk with no outside hole perceptible?
Needless to say, Joko or anyone else in Yogya for that matter could not provide me with a scientific explanation
of this incident.
His interpretation was similar to what I later frequently heard in relation to pusaka and other magical
objects. The stone contained the roh (spirit) of a penunggu and it probably had been placed there by a mystic or
dukun a hundred years earlier, when the beam became part of the construction of a house or other structure.
The function of it was to bless the house and protect (slamet) it and its occupants from eventual accidents or
disasters, and this would have been done during a safety ritual known in Java as a slametan. (Geertz 1960: 11-85)
This was hence the case in the Kulonprogo teakwood incident as I later called it as well.
He confirmed that it wouldnt be a problem to turn the wood into furniture and guaranteed another ngruwatan for
this occasion, just as he had done at the carpenters workshop the week before.
We could extend the application of such a supernatural ilmu not only to inanimate objects, but also to
humans, as occasionally people become possessed by some vagabond spirit and may suffer tremendously as a
result. Whether the consequence of sorcery or not, a ngruwatan will be performed in an attempt to communicate
with the guest spirit before it is chased away. I have been witness to a few such accidental possessions and
subsequent efforts by a dukun to exorcize the culprit of the spiritual attack. In every case, the dukun talked with
and appeased the spirit in order to lure it out of the victims body. Each time, the audience had no doubt that the
cause of the problem was an evil spirit. One incident that involved Joko actually took place at a major hospital
of Yogyakarta, and I saw how doctors did not try to intervene during the exorcism. Joko himself says that often,
as a dukun, he encounters spirits in need of help. One of the problems which comes with extra-sensorial abilities
is that one can perceive the lamenting and distress of particular spirits and angry souls. As posited before, it is
believed that people who die from an accident, murder or suicide are likely to produce an angry soul which is
bound to stay close to the spot where they were killed or where the corpse was buried (opinions vary on this
detail). All metaphysical speculations aside, Javanese say that these ghosts, along with other nasty nature-spirits,
bother humans since they find no immediate peace in the after-life.
In itself this concept and the beam story are not regarded as anything exceptional by the Javanese, as it
follows a respectable integrity with the traditional protocol of Javanese culture. What is out of the ordinary, is the
capacity of an individual to exorcise or manipulate the forces that were understood to be present in such objects.
An aide to Joko explained that the ability to exert power over supernatural beings requires the knowledge of
ilmu. This ilmu is considered to be an important attribute that reinforces the rituals for the preservation and
intensification of those powers.
In the traditional Javanese point of view this attribute comes in the form of magical energy (kasektn).
Indeed kings and many leaders are believed to possess such magical energy besides the ascribed hereditary quality
of kewibawaan or legitimate power of ruling. But many Javanese individuals are also believed to be able to
accomplish extraordinary feats because of their control of kasektn. These include mostly religious teachers,
curers and dukun, but also some common folk dancers, university teachers, and even thieves and criminals. No
Javanese however will regard the latter as being in possession of the necessary power which makes them eligible
58
for leadership (kewibawaan). The abovementioned incidents (and the witnesses commentaries that accompanied
them in the field) seem to strongly indicate that Joko was considered by his peers as being one of those few
individuals who had undergone the mystical ordeal required to possess such kasektn. I do mention ordeal, since
the path to the obtainment of kasektn and other powerful ilmu is quite arduous and demands a vast amount of
discipline and surrender, (J. sumarah) as I later heard from the experiences of other informants as well.

Magically charged objects(2): Pengasihan and pesugihan

Other activities where the collaboration of spirits is invoked are numerous but I will in a first instance
only mention two of the more common applications pertaining to Jokos treatment of visiting clients. The first
one, pengasihan, is a term that could be translated by giving something extra. This service involves giving a
magical boost to someones intended activity, by which the chances of success or cumulative increase are forcibly
guaranteed. Forcing someones destiny for the better could be an appropriate interpretation as well. The most
common example of this, in concurrence with the amount of clients who requested this type of help from Joko,
were university students asking for good grades, people applying for a job and those wanting to improve their
promotion in existing jobs. Sales can be increased with pengasihan, and this can apply to shop owners and export
businesses as well as prostitutes and taxi drivers.
Once the entire board of a local bus company were sipping coffee in Jokos living room finalizing a
request to boost passenger sales on their lines. They had no problem convincing Joko to perform a
pengasihan later that night at their bus park where all the vehicles were gathered for the ritual he had
prepared. Joko told me later that these people had at first tried to have him cast some spell on the
competitors bus company, an action which would surely have had undesirable implications for him as well
as the clients. Instead the second more reasonable option was easier to implement and moreover he was
promised unlimited free travel on the particular line for his entire family if it worked. A pengasihan ritual can
take many alternative forms depending on the request, but that particular one at the bus park contained the
many usual elements, redundant enough as to be able to generalize the format of a pengasihan, according to
Joko. First a bag of earth from the concerned location is required, upon which Joko then performs a ritual
consisting of incantations and semedhi (meditation) at his house, together with all of the usual props used to
call upon spirits. 32 The request by the bus company required at least one whole black rooster to be boiled
in santen (coco water) and various cooked side dishes. The bag of earth and the offerings are consequently
brought to the place in questionhere the bus station. After more incense burning and mantras, a hole is
dug somewhere centrally inside the compound and the bag of earth, together with the other offerings, are
placed in it. Sometimes a personal object from the owner or the client is added to the pile; in this case a
part of one of the busses transmission was added33. The hole is filled to level again, whereupon a bit of the
earth from the bag which was saved for this purpose is separated into many smaller plastic bags and those
are then kept in the front of each bus above the dashboard.

32
That is to say dupa (incense), sesajen (flowers, food) and other aromatic goods. The amount and the variety of props for the
offers are relative to the seriousness of the problem at hand.
33
This was done, I was told by one of the owners, to safeguard the company from serious mechanical problems with the busses. One
of the more costly and feared reparations or replacement with busses is the one involving a failing transmission.
59
 In reality, many objects can be filled with a beneficial form of energy, which would then alter the
fortune of the carrier. In this the pengasihan concept resembles the notions of pusaka (heirloom) and jimat (amulet,
talisman) who are believed to protect one from bad fortune, but the function of a pengasihan is explicitly more
pragmatic, it allows one to go beyond the safe haven of protection as it forces destinies for the good. Joko was
also an adept at protective magic, and many clients consulted him for this type of magic. An anecdote here
perfectly illustrates his point:

Shortly after I moved into my third house, Joko came with a hammer and a purse. He proceeded to make
little bags by rolling human hair that he wet with sandalwood-oil into small pieces of leather and tightly
strapping them closed with some rattan-cord. He then went around the propertys brick fence and at
intervals nailed the little leather bags into the top layer of the wall. He told me these bags were charms that
would protect the house and the warehouse inside the property from burglars. Later that year Abut, the
guard who was living there, woke up one night to find a man standing impassively outside his bedroom
window with the water-pump from the well under his arm. Abut went out, turned the light on and asked
the stranger what he wanted. The stranger just looked confused and mumbled that he couldnt remember
why and how he got there, but that he had not been able to find the way out. So Abut recuperated the
pump, gave him some fruit and walked him out of the front gate. Joko, three months earlier, had told me
that although an occasional burglar would successfully be able to climb up and jump over the fence, he
would never be able to find the way out.

An amelioration of the present situation is strived for through intense power of suggestion. Because of
the nature of pengasihan and the illicit help of spirits to arrive at the anticipated results, many a purist among
Javanese mystical adepts condemn it as a dishonest way to achieve ones goals, on the same level as Kanuragan as
a way to defeat ones opponents. But due to the difficulties of the era of krismon, Joko was of the impression that
pengasihan consultations were certainly not likely to subside, on the contrary, it was increasingly popularized by
mediatic dukun in the press and on websites; it became almost trendy.
Pengasihan rituals and objects are popular nowadays, I argue, and nowhere is the role of the dukun in
implementing and retrieving them so popular as in the formal and informal sector of the Javanese economy.
Business owners, whether from large corporations, posh storefronts or humble market stands, increasingly
consult dukun to help them restore their fortunes of increased sales and high production. This is based on
personal observation and local rumours amongst the public and informants. Joko and a few other dukun have all
acknowledged that the various forms of pengasihan are dominating the requests for supernatural help. In the four
months that I followed Joko around the five districts of the province, I counted no less than 24 merchants or
businessmen who came to him to request his help to boost sales or start up a successful venture. Three of those
were for perusahaan burung walet , companies who bred swallows for their nests. One was already in existence while
the two other two were just starting I accompanied Joko for his pengasihan ritual for two of them:

Joko said it is always similar to this. A couple of swallows (siji pasang walet) need to be bought by the owner
in a bird-market in the region of Banyuwangi, East Java. No reason except that the best quality of bird nests
is to be found in that region due to the special subspecies there. Joko places the couple in a cage in the

60
 future room set for the breeding of the birds, usually on the top level of a building. He then burns kemenyan
and dupa (incense) and invokes the spirits. The birds each become possessed with the same winged spirit
which separates across sexes yet remains one (manunggal). This guarantees successful procreation. The birds,
as they are magnetized, drop on the floor and slowly start flapping their wings, they seem dazed. After the
ritual is over the birds fly to a corner and hole up there as a pair, a sign that the pengasihan should be
successful and many generations will follow. The initial couple will also attract other birds from the region
to come nest at the particular breeding house.

Many shop owners came by with a bag of sand or earth from the foundations of their stores, to be
magnetized by Joko. A spell is formulated on the bag, and it remains in Jokos backyard for a night. The next day
the owner would come and pick it up. They are expected to bury it back under the foundations. For serious cases
Joko does the ritual on location, as was the case of an important batik retailer on Jalan Solo or several export-
furniture manufactories in Yogyakarta and Bantul.
Another popular method of pengasihan application is the insertion of golden needles under ones skin.
This makes the person physically attractive to others, especially around the area where the needles have been
placed. The susuk, as these needles are called, have to be placed by a dukun and are said to basically disappear
gradually after a while. This method, Joko told me, is very popular with people who have relational problems,
prostitutes and political candidates. The latter allegedly use this in times of elections.
A subtle difference in emphasis characterizes the second most common application of spirit powers,
the pesugihan. This type of ilmu guarantees one becomes prosperous. Clients come to Joko to request luck with
the lottery, to get luck for future investments or to simply ask for a change of fortune concerning income.
Whereas pengasihan implies a general beneficial turn in the evolution of someones life or business, pesugihan is
explicitly dealing with ways of making one richer from a monetary and wealth-oriented perspective. Stories about
pesugihan activities gone awry have been recorded by Dutch scholars since the last century, especially those
involving a pact with the devil personified by evil spirits such as Ny Blorong from the South Seas, Kethek Putih
(the White monkey) and other Tuyuls. The reason why many people searching for sugih (riches) fail for one reason
or another in their attempt, and even end up worse off, is the misplaced greed and desire that blinds these people
from seeing what is really important in life and the ways to achieve those goals. Pesugihan, as a clear product of
greed, affects the proper karmic redemption and instead calls for karmic punishment, according to kejawen
purists.
Nevertheless pesugihan requests are more common today than ever, mostly due to the enduring krismon
or economic hardships that many Javanese have to face daily. What unscrupulous dukun provide for these clients
is to establish a channel between such a companion spirit and the interested person. The bad reputation of these
pacts lies more in the fact that the imbalan (cost) for the provided services are very high and that neighbouring
people in the community may eventually suffer from these, than that someone would play around with the spirits
to attain certain private objectives. In the recent past, numerous incidents of barbaric murders of individuals by a
mob of villagers were reported, which attributed such extra-legal incidents to these individuals having partaken in
malevolent pacts with evil spirits in return for riches. The discovery of such a pact by a village council or

61
neighbours apparently incites a violent response by the local community towards such greedy individuals who are
considered unscrupulous and amoral.
This type of incident speaks powerfully to the deranged set of relationships inside the Javanese
communities due to the penetration of modern capitalistic mechanisms of accumulation. The traditional values
of equality and cooperation were for a long time the characteristic features of local Javanese communitiesalbeit
superficially imposed by the doctrine of Suhartos New Order (Pemberton 1994: 10-15). Yet it is often stated
and observed that the desire for individual accumulation of commodities, which is at the core of modernization
along capitalistic lines, do erode this ideal status-quo of a harmonious village. Although greed and amoral
tendencies to obtain wealth have always existed in Java, people claim that they evolved form a marginal
phenomenon towards a present plague of society. Besides merely accepting those of the globalisation process,
Romain Bertrand also points to the nefarious consequences of the glocalisation process, which affect
developing economies such as Java. Interestingly he ties the market of illicit dealings with spirits embodied in
pesugihan with the tensions arising from such modernisation effects34.
Unscrupulous dukun are often the catalysts of this suspicious merchandising with spirits and
obviously tend to keep a low profile about activities involving pesugihan. For this reason, Joko affirms not to
provide this type of service to clients in need of great amounts of money or to those whose requests would
have to occasion an amoral offering35. Besides an innocent trick to help friends to pick the right numbers of the
officious bandar lottery, he stands convicted that money earned through the methods of pesugihan is always dirty
money and never free of undesired consequences. As an additional side-effect of modern forms of
commoditisation, he noted that most of the modern day tabloid-dukun include some form of pesugihan in the
advertised services, complete with websites and e-mail addresses. Although he is of the opinion that most of
them are wry cheaters (penipu) demanding enormous fees in exchange for very dubious results, he thought it was
still safer than the same client obtaining a genuine fortune with some serious dukuns help. When I asked him
why, he said that it is potentially fatal to obtain money in this manner, mentioning a few examples of dishonest
people who had gained large sums but nearly died in extremely disturbing fashions. He admitted, to make his
point clear, that he had once performed a ritual to know the exact four number combination of the local lottery
on a particular night.

All his friends constantly ask him for the right numbers. He attributes this power of divination to a kodam
spirit residing in a little gilded keris, to which he offers a bit of raw opium each time. He knew it was illicit
in the eyes of Tuhan, but decided to try it to see what would happen. He told me that the night he decided
to try his luck himself, he won the jackpot, around five million rupiah! But when he drove home after
picking up his prize money, the car turned over a median and crashed. He miraculously survived, but the
car was a total loss, setting him back about 13 million in investment. Joko said that he afterwards
distributed the money to relatives and local Muslim charities, not keeping a single cent for himself.
Incidents like these are interpreted as a supernatural retribution in the most karmic sense of the word. Joko
reprimanded himself for having tested a variety of ilmu pesugihan to the extreme.

34
Bertrand 2002: 83. For a more detailed discussion of the political and local dimension of the invisible in Java and the
relationship of this with the break-up of the ideal Javanese village (Desa diatur) see Bertrand 2002, 53-112.
35
Imbalan offerings such as the murder of a newborn or other sacrifices.
62
 Romain Bertrand ties the belief in sugih-giving spirits to the political debate which goes on between the
little people of the community and the notables thereof. A common belief in the powers of the invisible brings
about the existence of a certain language of power. Indeed one who is suspected of dealing with the invisible
forces can in this way be accused of the anti-social tendencies that surely lead to a break in the harmony of the
village or between neighbours and family. To accuse someone of dealing with a white monkey or a thuyul36 or
one of the seductive female spirits like the pri or Nyi Blorong, is to accuse one of tending towards adultery or
wrongly acquired wealth. This accusation reiterates the Javanese tatakrama communitarian principles:
interfamilial and neighbour solidarity, refusal of excess and display, the bad nature of love for gain and the
karmic effects of jealousy and greed in terms of the harmony in the village or the neighbourhood. (Bertrand
2002: 37)
Besides the negative discourse that pesugihan magic never fails to prompt, I was told that the attraction
of winning the favours of such alluring spirits is very real amongst many Javanese. Indeed, many people in the
region of Yogyakarta believe in the chances of occasionally stumbling upon one of those ghosts who
irremediably tease the human into closing some kind of a deal with them in return for goodies. Joko, together
with many people in his village of Gamping, affirms the nocturnal presence of quite a few of these creatures
along the abandoned banks of the river or the railroad. When walking home at night along these deserted places,
it is quite possible that some contact with such a familiar spirit37 will happen.
A deep apprehension fills almost all Javanese when they hear about spirit stories or when they are
questioned on their opinion of paranormal dukun. Their interpretation of such phenomena is extremely
pragmatic as they feel that a different reality is imposing itself on the worldly reality of their daily life to which
they are accustomed. They are in general believers of this invisible reality of forces and beings, but it is one that
few can find their way into with any sense of control. It is a situation that is prolific for a certain type of fear, a
permanent sense of suspicion, one that rises as soon as a problem is understood to have a metaphysical cause. A
wary owner of one of the many furniture plants in Yogya called Joko up to come over.

He told him he was afraid that a malevolent spirit or force had been sent (implying sorcery by a
competitor) to his factory and wreaked havoc there. The cause of his suspicion is that there had been two
serious accidents resulting in deficient machinery and two injured workers in just the past week. (One of
the workers had virtually lost his hand). His suspicion was confirmed by Joko, but a ritual was needed to
break the spell. This was done and a pengasihan ritual followed to secure the place against other such
occurrences.

Of course this is not a new phenomenon in Java, and the superstition that is constantly fed and
regenerated by tabloids and the media does not have the dramatic features of collective fears such as the ones
that are characteristic with other invisible enemies such as virus and plagues (HIV, Dengue, SARS,). Spirits

36
A thuyul is a demit (nature-spirit), which specializes in stealing money and will serve a person who desires such service, in
exchange for ritual retribution of course.
37
Such as Pri: a beautiful nymph with a hole in her back., Gendhruwo: monstrous, hairy red giant, Buto Ijo: green giant, Koentianak:
ugly woman, or simply ancestral specters from deceased persons.
63
and the invisible world they represent have been studied and confronted, and their powers and forces been
appropriated and controlled by mystic specialists throughout the centuries. Many of these mystics have set up
brotherhoods and mystical sects where this secret knowledge was being transmitted through to the innumerable
young practitioners. The kejawen sects (aliran kebatinan) are now more numerous and popular than ever.
In defence, Joko, an accomplished yogi, said that the denial of the existence of a wider reality and the
choice to cling to the material and surroundings is done out of ignorance. A wise person knows that suffering is
created by overestimating the material conditions in which we live, essentially to regard material experience to be
the limits of human experience. Because of certain remarkable realizations made during his mystical practice, it
was impossible for Joko to interpret causal relations of events merely in a worldly and rational (i.e. scientific)
way. Although rather pragmatic towards the human condition and the consequences of human intelligence and
behaviour on life, relationships or nature, he was staunchly convinced that a metaphysical force or prana was
responsible for much of the functioning of this world. This position is in itself not exceptional; it replicates the
experience ands teachings of great historical sages and other luminaries. My point is that in the present Javanese
realm of spiritual activity, this idea of a permeating force is seemingly demonstrated in a very practical, accessible
and pervading manner, especially through the work of certain dukun and adepts of kejawen mysticism.

The batu aki ritual

I will end here with a description of a ritual which represents one of the main reasons for many people
to visit Joko and specialists like him. The result of this ritual can be summarized as the production of a jimat or
amulet which in most cases comes in the form of a little semi-precious stone, popularly known as batu aki,38.
Besides the fact that it is popular with dukun, it is prevalent in televised shows and press articles covering the
esoteric works of dukun in Java.
In essence, the ritual is of the pengasihan type, as functionally it is meant to provide the beneficiary with
a supernatural protection against general evil, accidents and, as sometimes reported by informants; it also endows
them with clear suggestive power. By this I mean that the power in the stone would allegedly help to eliminate
doubts in decision-making and wrong instincts, and brings intuitive clear-sightedness. When a person requests
such an object to be retrieved from the alam ghaib (spirit world), Joko insists and expects the client to act morally
sound in their choices in life, whether this is accompanied by spiritual practice or not. He adds that the power in
the stone may only be effective if the holder of it has a strong power of suggestion, implying a certain degree of
spiritual training or acceptance. Essentially, the importance of performing some ascetic deeds (laku) and being a
giving person increases the chances that any supernatural benefit might occur, whether through a perceived
accumulation of spiritual power hidden in a precious stone or anything else. Again, this statement reflects a
typical kejawen rationality.

The two following anecdotes illustrate the batu aki ritual:

38
Though the stone is usual the object retrieve, it can be replaced by virtually any type of object which can be carried permanently
near the body of the client who requested the ritual in the first place.
64
 On two occasions where I was a witness, Joko performed such a ritual to retrieve the desired jimat from
the realm of spirits. The first such operation was held on a Jumat-Kliwon night39 by the tombstone of an
ancestor of his in Gampings own graveyard. The clients consisted of a famous businessman from Jakarta
(named B.) and his wife (S.). The problem was to guarantee the safety of the wife while she travelled alone
abroad. Joko promised them that a precious stone taken from the spirit realm (batu aki) would do fine. His
confidence was contagious, and the ritual went ahead. After a series of prayers, incense-burning and flower
offerings40, he caught a burning red stone in the air above the tomb. The stone was hot to the touch, and
the couple was very delighted about the benevolence of Jokos great-grandfather towards them.
A second such ritual I witnessed in the furniture manufactory of a Dutch friend in Bantul, where Joko
was asked to please the Javanese manager with such a power-stone. The latter gave as reason that he
needed power to convince certain business associates (teakwood dealers), police officers and lawyers (he
was involved in a court-case) with promises of being granted trading benefits and legal facilities. As Joko
had pity with the crooked manager, he performed a ritual right in the middle of the main warehouse of the
plant. Here again, after the usual series of incense and meditation, a precious stonebrown this time
appeared in Jokos hand after it swayed many times through the air. The manager was elated, and a week
later we got news that he had won a court case in his hometown near Semarang. He attributed this entirely
to his new jimat.

When I asked Joko about these relatively spectacular rituals and the appearance of the scorching red
stone, he had a dual explanation. He understood what was going on, based on his sense of interpreting such
supernatural occurrences. The grave of his great-grandfather he knew to be the home of his ancestors nyawa or
roh, which can be translated as astral body or ghost. At the furniture plant, it was a memedi living in the Sawu tree
by the main door of the warehouse. According to Javanese belief, the ghost of someone who died can evolve in
three different ways. The ghost of a person who has lived a proper life will separate at death from the physical
body and return to its original source or Tuhan. It may then become reincarnated into a newborn or other
sentient being. In contrast, the ghost of someone evil or of someone who died in a violent manner will not
immediately return to that original realm, since it is condemned to haunt that place where he has died from
murder or suicide in the form of what Javanese call a memedi or spectre. Lastly there are the roh of people who
have lived perfect (istimewa) throughout their entire life, for instance sages who have reached a level of holiness
(kesaktian). These latter entities are believed to remain close to their descendants and can at all times be invited to
help them out in case of urgency. Such roh are believed to speak through the mouths of people who function as
mediums, usually dukun prewangan. Different aliran kebatinan (mystical sects) treat the question of these roh and
the communication with them in detail. Joko explained that his great-grandfather had been in his time considered
a sage, and that such a roh makes available for those who can manipulate the appropriate ilmu, a certain type of
power which is left around the grave where he was buried. Such a power is named kodam, and in this case the

39
Nearly every mystical adept and others in Yogyakarta performs some sort of tapa or offering to ancestors and spirits on the
malam Jumat-kliwon, the Thursday night before that particular Friday on the 35 day Javanese calendar. Popular places in the region
are the Parangtritis beach, the Royal cemeteries of Imogiri and Kota Gede and various other magically charged places in what
Pemberton refers to as the Topographies of power of the Javanese heartland. (Pemberton 1994, 270)
40
Usually a mix of red and white rose (mawar), jasmine (mlati)and two types of frangipani (kanthil). Kembang talon means three
varieties of flowers are mixed and become one.

65
access to it had been facilitated because of the direct lineage between Joko and the roh in question. One
manifestation of this borrowed power is objects retrieved from the realm of spirits such as the above-mentioned
batu aki. These are thus extracted from an otherworldly realmtypically referred to as the Alam ghaiband are
considered with the highest devotion by most Javanese. In this respect Bs request was very legitimate in the eyes
of anyone who heard about the ritual in the days that followed. Anyone would have done the same to guarantee
the safety of a spouse travelling abroad by herself.
In the following chapter, through the experiences of three other dukun, I will elaborate on the various
manners in which dukun release the power acquired through mystical practice on behalf of clients. With Agus
more particularly, the relationship between healing and this energy which is called alternately prana, tenaga dalam,
getaran or hyang suksmo is demonstrated. Links between dukun and companion spirits appear with both with Agus
and Sugeng, in which the spirits are believed to contribute in providing welfare to the clients. Welfare here can
mean good luck in finance, business matters, health, profession or status, finding a partner and so on. Through
their experience, and that of Agung, one can see the sheer variety of clients and reasons for consultations for
which these relatively modern dukun are consulted.

4.4 Pak Agus: Kejawen teacher and public healer

I was introduced to Pak Agus by Joko in early October, at the formers house in the village of Kasihan,
on the south-western edge of Yogyakarta. I had asked Joko if he knew anyone who was sufficiently erudite in the
philosophy of kejawen and who would be at the same time familiar with the practice of dukun. I thought that
maybe such a person would be able to elaborate on the mystical aspect of such activities, whether in a critical or
sympathetic way, and thus provide me with some sort of structural framework in which those esoteric and
magical activities were inherently embedded. Joko admitted to be hesitant about the origins or the logic of
powers and entities. He would even tell me that sometimes he had no idea why such and such actions were
possible; he just did them according to his personal techniques and the ones he had learned from past gurus. The
key was to control and dominate the powers that were called upon at particular times and direct them in a certain
way so as to obtain a determining result, whether it was a cure, a pengasihan or pesugihan.
This merely shows the pragmatic and practical attitude of some dukun towards their powers, and the lack of
rationality or structural reasoning regarding magical mysticism and the practice of pure kebatinan, especially the
paranormal side of it. For that reason he decided to take me to meet one of his old friends.
Pak Agus, who in his function of healer goes by another name, received me with great enthusiasm
after being briefed on who I was and what my purpose was in this part of Java. After the usual cup of tea had
been brought by his wife, he asked me to speak about my experience with spirits and tenaga dalam in Java so far,
and to not be shy with details. Right away Agus was inclined to complete my fragmented knowledge of the
mystical practices by bringing in new concepts, some of which I had heard about and some of which I had not.
He would listen to me recount my experiences and then would excitedly draw diagrams of the eight-limbed

66
theory of the human body or the fivefold path integrating the five fundamental elements (Lima unsur) and would
explain the sensations I had during my experience with the help of these diagrams.
I was very surprised at such an immediacy and enthusiasm in explaining the more secret knowledge of
the Javanese philosophy. But as I got to know him better, it became clear that Agus was more than just a healer
or mystical adept. He was an avid reader and practitioner of not only the kejawen techniques but also the orhiba
or Yoga (through the Bagavadh Gita and the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali), the Yin-Yang theories from the Chinese
philosopher Sun Wen and most especially, acupuncture and acupressure methods from India and China. He had
the ambition to teach and spread this type of knowledge to as many people as possible. In some way he regarded
this to be his duty in life, clearly inspired by the great pujangga41 of the past like R. Ng. Ronggowarsita or R.T.
Yasadipura and their works, especially the former with his Wirid Hidayat Jati. As it happened he was extremely
happy to meet foreigners who were interested in this type of science and consequently in sharing the findings of
the kejawen masters with them. I assumed he was moreover keen on comparing western philosophical ideas with
the eastern Indic ones which he had been brought up with. When such comparisons were at stake, conversations
soon turned into debates but never with the intention to impose ones knowledge upon the others. In the course
of my visits with Agus my understanding on kejawen, yoga and the Chinese methods of healing was greatly
enhanced.

No Healing without Prana and spirits

The real value of befriending someone like Agus in the context of my research was the fact that his
main activity consisted of incorporating this entire body of knowledge in his preparations of Jamu (Indonesian
homeopathic medicine and treatments) and his healing practice. To most ordinary people in the area Agus was
known as a very efficient dukun (although he himself wasnt keen on being called a dukun). The practice next to
his house consisted of a waiting room where people came to order and drink jamu and a treatment room closed
off by a heavy curtain where patients were diagnosed and treated with acupressure, acupuncture and prana
massage while laying on a recycled operation bed. A third room was allocated for the actual preparation of jamu,
with hundreds of little jars, pots and beakers containing different ingredients in powder, liquid or crystal form
and the tools needed for the crushing and mixing of all these. He showed me an additional backroom which
served as a warehouse for raw ingredients in the vegetal form, mostly dried homeopathic plants from the entire
archipelago. This latter room containedbesides the huge bags of grasses, leaves, bark and rootsa noteworthy
installation; a low batik covered table holding stone and wooden statues, sealed terracotta jars, a few very ancient
keris and many other items such as incense, essential oil bottles, kemenyan rocks (Arabic incense). This was
obviously a shrine, and some radjahs (magical writings) inscribed in Arabic script on rice paper completed the
general scene. The shrine was set in the centre of the collection of bags. Agus admitted that benevolent spirits
were keeping home there.

41
Pujangga are the literary masters of the royal courts of south-central Java. In this function they were regarded as the keepers and
transmitters of the sacred past knowledge and history of the forefathers, besides themselves being assiduous mystics. Many a mystical
teacher in Java is inspired by the writings of these spiritual masters. The Wirid Hidayat Jati by R.Ng. Ronggowarsito named above
is one of those manuscripts on mysticism which has influenced many a founder of a sect or aliran kebatinan to the present day.

67
 It is the conviction of Agus that the ingredients which he uses in the preparation of Jamu have intrinsic
active bio-chemical properties apt to combat specific viruses and malfunctioning cells in the human body, but
nonetheless he insists on the futility of using these vegetal ingredients if they have not been blessed beforehand
by a divine force. The shrine purportedly serves just that function in the storage room. By invoking and making
offerings to the various penunggu in the sacred objects of the shrine, these plants become ritually blessed which
confers to the ingredients an added potency of healing faculties. The mantras and ritual songs (dhandanggula)
which are weekly expressed during a little ritual by the shrine, guarantee this potency to be present, brought into
existence by an esoteric trick of the guardian spirits. He made sure to add that he saw in the action of the spirits a
proof of the all-pervading emanation of Tuhan and that it was this godly entity that was ultimately being
worshipped.
I pertinently asked him why there is an intermediary realm of spirits which needed to be
conceptualized in order to reach the benevolence of this almighty Tuhan. Could Tuhan not be communicated
with in a direct manner, and why not do away altogether with this intermediate realm if this were the case? Agus
smiled at me, shaking his head. He told me that although the divine entity (call it God, Tuhan, Gusti or
Purusa) is present in every single material thingincluding humansit is not to be directly encountered or
communicated with by a human. In this life the only thing a man can do is to experience the revelation of Its
presence in everything and most importantly, in the inner self or batin. In other words reaching Tuhan directly
was impossible in this waking life, lest one performs a form of asceticism known as racut.42 This perilous exercise
is reserved to the serious mystics of this world. Agus told me about his own near-tragic attempt to meet God.
The point, he said, is that since it is impossible to reach God directly, one has to communicate through the
transitional help of higher beings such as souls of ancestors and certain types of benevolent spirits. Essentially,
he was imagining a system of messengers as a conceptual model for this otherworldly type of communication.
Clients came to Agus for treatment of all sorts of ailments and diseases. He kept a logbook of the past
medical cases which he had performed. It was a carefully organized list of each patient that had come to be
treated, with the latters name, age, address or telephone and the nature of the ailment. I could see by browsing
though the list that there was virtually no limit to the variety of diseases and ailments that he took upon himself
to heal; regular flu and cold, sciatic pain, cataract, infection, dengue fever, breast cancer, kidney stones, venereal
diseases, paralysis, rashes and so on. The techniques he applies to the treatment consist of a combination of jamu
preparation, acupressure or acupuncture and prana massage where inner power is used to smooth the flow of the
meridians (energy channels). The diagnosis is established by a feeling of the pulse and examination of symptoms.
By taking the pulse, Agus says he can immediately recognize the area which is affected and elaborate a personal
jamu based on ones prana (life force) and metabolism. Every jamu is made on the spot from separate ingredients,
in essence guaranteeing a personalized recipe for each patient, unlike the popular Jamu kiosks on Javanese
roadsides where every jamu is already pre-mixed and packaged. He was adamant in conveying that jamu was
limited in its curative action if the preparation was not based on an accurate personal diagnosis of the patient.
The temporary condition of a patientsince ones physical condition always changesis said to be
reflected by the suffusing prana in its intensity (measured through the pulse) and aura (visible near the head of the

42
This basically implies that the adept lets his body die for a temporary period, during which his sukmo (astral ghost of a human)
travels to the alam katriyan (astral realm) to return to the world of the living in a later stage.
68
patient). It is this reflection that will determine the amounts and varieties of the numerous ingredients available
in his lab which are selected for each particular concoction. He dismissed the mass-produced jamu found in
roadside shops as mere vitamins and mineral supplements; on itself not a bad thing but not very effective for
healing sickness and diseases. Agus quietly prided himself for having developed a jamu-method which combined
the ancestral Javanese wisdom of homeopathic remedies and the science of Yin-Yang developed by the Chinese
philosopher Sun Wen. He was tireless in his efforts to convince his colleagues of the BATTRA association43
about the benefits of this method in curing several life-threatening diseases. He based his own conviction on the
positive responses of his customers.

Public recognition of dukun

The mission of Agus and his colleagues in the BATTRA organization of Bantul is noteworthy as it
translates the efforts of local healers, paranormals, herbalists and masseuses to have their curing powers
recognized and guaranteed by law. I had the chance to attend two meetings of local healers from the Bantul
region. They came together to discuss strategies to better become accepted in the society. These were especially
directed towards various local state-representatives, from the Dinas kesehatan (local Department of Health) or
Dinas Hukum (Dept. of Justice) for instance. Such representatives were invited to the meetings to see how best
the traditional healing methods could be integrated in the regional health plan. The aim, Agus said, was twofold:
To have as many of these healers sign up as members of the organization as possible and to establish lists of the
so-called public traditional healers per Lurahan (greater village) in the Bantul district, and to therefore have the
capability of defending the healers rights and reputations in case of litigation. This would eventually allow for
the upholding of the traditional healers in Javanese society, and at the same time it would permit public
condemnation and purging of the frauds, manipulators and sorcerers who often give the tradition a bad name in
society and media. Agus said that over time, Javanese traditional healing would regain its place of honour in a
modern institutionalized framework and allow the clients to search for healers without worries of getting
cheated, which is unfortunately a common affliction these days.
I was allowed to see the lists of practitioners according to every lurahan of kabupaten Bantul; they were
the most complete lists of dukun I have ever dared to imagine, indicating the names, age, place of practice, and
specialty. Practically, given the time and with the generous help of someone like the secretary of the movement
itself, these BATTRA lists would be a key to achieve a qualitative and quantitative study of Yogyanese dukun in a
more systematic way.
Many of Agus clients who I spoke to, including local University professors, Abdi dalem44 from the
Sultans court and local businessmen, preferred to consult him over the trained medical doctors of the
Puskesmas state-owned field clinics or private Hospital staff, and admitted to partaking in word-of-mouth
rumours which invariably brought new customers to Agus small semi-rural practice. This specific type of

43
BATTRA: paguyuban pengoBAT TRAdisional. The association of traditional healers, under the legal auspice of the national
department of health (DINAS kesehatan). Agus is the secretary of the BATTRA branch of Bantul district
44
Volunteer servants at the royal court of the Yogyakarta Kraton, handpicked by Gusti Pangeran, the brother of the Sultan.

69
positive discourse, which has all the attributes of a rumour, represents the usual source of clients for any dukun
in Yogyakarta and Java. Although nowadays some dukun like to publicly advertise themselves through various
media or distribute name cards, this manner of hearsay is still the conceived ethical way for dukun to gain
popularity. It needs to be noted that their reputation is in fact entirely determined by the rumour related to their
powers and efficiency, and thus not by conscious efforts to reach that level of popularity.
This being said, it is undeniable that the volume of customers of a dukun is greatly enhanced if the
latter is able to associate positive reputation with an aggressive marketing of his services. This is clearly
demonstrated by the expensive healers and paranormals who have both the capital and the urge to invest in
tabloid format advertisings or have made connections with celebrities and other famous personalities of Jakarta
show business, politics and business. This consideration speaks to the debate of commoditization of mysticism
and spiritual knowledge, and the distinction between circumstantial dukun and so called professional ones. I
will come back to this point in a later chapter discussing the relation of dukun and media. Suffice it to say, most
of the dukun who I met in the context of my research were not inclined to reach such regional or national level
of celebrity, although all of them had a relatively strong base of clients. It is interesting to see how, depending on
their convictions, many reputed dukun shy away from public recognition, even to the point of discontinuing
their dukun activities if they feel saturated with requests, as was the case with Joko for example. The story of
Agus is revealing in this sense, as he and Joko had a very similar journey into the world of Javanese mysticism.
(see paragraph 3.4)

A companion-spirit named Gusti Panular

I include here further data which relates to the perceived sources of power which dukun such as Agus
see as vital to their trade and reputation as such. This information ties in well with the publics general
conception about dukun and the world in which they live.
Agus told me that at a certain point, towards the end of his kanuragan period and after having tried out
most extraordinary feats and exercises common in this type of pursuit, he realized that the Truth of existence
(kunci kehidupan), which the elders spoke about, could be revealed to him. But he first needed to alter his
approach and live by different standards in order to achieve this goal. Those standards and principles are the
same ones exposed through the philosophy of the various central Javanese aliran kebatinan, a body of work which
has been elaborated on by various sages throughout the centuries, taking their original inspiration from the Vedic
and yogic teachings of India. Agus believed ardently in the goodness and truth of these teachings, saying that its
core maxims were concerned with beautifying the world for the benefit of others and growing beyond the cycles
of suffering through incessant reincarnation. Two things had convinced him to search for a truth beyond merely
the phenomenal world of powers and astral beings:
The first was the realization that though one could experience and use these supernatural
phenomena to his guise, these were merely side-effectsgranted, with fantastic physical outcomeson
ones path to discover the divine inside oneself, and with this quality they represented a danger for the adept
to stray away from the meaningful path towards the understanding of existence and consequent liberation.
There are no moral pledges to abide to if one aspires to obtain and use/abuse these types of powers, indeed

70
 tenun, santet and sorcery in general are the most damning illustrations of that. These skills clearly do not
guarantee in themselves a peaceful life after death in the alam katriyan. Worse, they offer the practitioner a
glimpse of the awful possibilities in the after-life. As side-effects, these powers and spirits, useful as they
may be, are considered by Agus (and Joko alike) as mere tools in their activities and he warns against
considering them as an end in themselves. They are at best an interesting deviation, useful for the dukun,
but not for the serious mystic.

The second thing which drastically changed his life and made him decide to pursue a full time path as a
healer as well as a kejawen scholar was the fact that, ironically enough, he was assigned a companion spirit by a
higher being no other than the spirit of Sunan Kalijaga (see caption above). This astral being, as an intermediate
of the divine entity was to become a teacher of sorts, eventually disclosing the secrets of existence and helping
Agus understand and achieve the way of the perfect knowledge (ilmu kasempurnaan) in an incremental way.
Agus conceptualized this figure as a bhikku (monk) from the time of King Browijoyo V. According to
the history of the Javanese kingdoms, the spirit guru, known under the name Kanjeng Gusti Panular, had been
one of the main war-generals of Prabu Browijoyo, but had later chosen to dedicate himself to the path of
mysticism and became a monk. As an aging monk he had already taught and professed the right divine path to
his contemporaries. Agus told me that in this way, Gusti Panulars orally transmitted insights influenced the
emerging Wali Sanga, the nine early Saints of Muslim Java who introduced Islam to the kingdoms of the island.
A small graveyard in the hills south of the old colonial Madukismo sugar factory in Kasihan contains a
refurbished tomb of this venerated mystic from the 15th century. The alleged tomb of Gusti Panular45 is set
inside a walled cungkup at the top of the hill covered by virgin forest. This is the place where Agus comes to
meditate and burn incense, alone or with friends, to receive knowledge and advice from his spirit-guru.
This ritual, as he calls it himself, took place once a week, starting at midnight and ending around
three or four oclock in the morning. Amongst Javanese, Malam Jumat is indeed a highly auspicious day to
connect with all sorts of spirits. Having attended five of these rituals in a row, I could recognize the
patterns and similar features as well as the peculiar differences in the reactions of Agus as the master of
ceremony. First of all, he would almost always be accompanied by three or four of his disciples, amongst
other a priyayi (noble) from the Mangkubumi branch of the royal family, Pak M.
A devoted mystic himself, Pak M. was a dance teacher at the royal school of arts downtown. Another of
Agus friends was Pak J., who was the leader of the Kraton gamelan. Pak J. came twice to the ritual, whereas
Pak M. was a sort of right-hand man of Agus and was present every time, preparing the place by brushing
away the dead leaves and branches, burning incense sticks and candles and setting them all around the
perimeter of the cungkup. Around midnight, as we would get started, the place was illuminated and fragrant
from the candles and the incense. The tiny doorway of the cunkup would be unlocked and opened up. First,
we would all discuss philosophical issues pertaining to our lives with Agus as a mediator and advisor.
Difficult principles of kejawen would be applied to each others experiences in life or connected to current
events. After this preliminary part, we would go up to the cungkup and sit outside in front of the opened
doorway to the tomb. Here Agus would start singing sacred dhandanggulo (poetic songs of the macapat type),
sounding much like a dhalang (Wayang puppeteer). These allegedly served as incantations to establish our

Noone is really sure if this is really the last resting place of this semi-historical figure, nevertheless he is supposed to have
45

meditated there on one of his favorite spot. For this Javanese habit of raising Saints tombs, see Pemberton 1994: 286-287.
71
 presence by the grave in order to be welcomed in peace by the spirit of the place. The poems would be
followed seven repetitions of a particular mantra called Aji sejati, composed by Agus after the guidance of
Gusti Panular himself. The purpose of the mantra was for everyone present to be blessed by the divine
force through the intermediate of the spirit, and to serve as an introduction for the wishes/favour
(permohonan) that someone eventually wanted to express. A part of the mantra read by Agus contains a blank
where the name of each participant present is inserted. After the reading of this mantra a period of
meditation starts, lasting for about twenty minutes. The purpose of the meditation is to connect ones batin
(inner) with the powers and presence of the nearby spirit, and as such to hopefully obtain a message or a
revelation, which may appear in various ways. Agus says that it is at this time that he receives new wisdom
transmitted from the other world, pertaining either to his own personal life or to his practice and role with
the association of traditional healers to which he belongs. After this particularly oriented meditation, each of
us in turn enters the small cungkup with a piece of banana leaf filled with the kembang talon mix of flower-
petals. The purpose is to spread these petals above the tombstone inside, and perform a last doa or prayer.

Agus indeed believes that he has a divine mission to save and consolidate the teachings and wisdom of
kejawen philosophy and incorporate specific ancestral methods into the existing techniques of traditional healing
which may have been lost over time. Essentially, he admitted he tried to transfer this soothing energy
accumulated from Gusti Panulars grave to his clients, through the channel of jamu or prana massages. These
rituals are the single most important activity in his life nowadays, since they give him direction and assurance as
to his ambitions as both a healer and a guru of spiritual healing methods involving kejawen, Indian and Chinese
techniques.

Chronicler ands teacher

But this relationship with his companion spirit, for all its worth, provided him with another yet more
esoteric element. Agus shared his intention of writing some sort of chronicle, what is known in Javanese literary
terms as a Serat or Babad, which would tell the biography of Gusti Panular and the related history of the kingdom
of Browijoyo the fifth46. The interesting twist to this ambitious venture is that all of the information he collects
would actually come from the very spirit of this legendary monk; in other words the source of the biography
would be the spirit itself! Agus said textually that he actually conceived of it as an auto-biography, since he
viewed his role as the mere chronicler, who, by his ability to tap into this peculiar realm of knowledge, could
offer his contemporaries just this type of invaluable wisdom.
Pushing the seriousness of his ambition even further, Agus admitted that he looked upon his function
as healer and patron of the Javanese pengobatan tradisional (traditional healing sciences) as his necessary duty in this

46
To appreciate this topic, one has to know the importance in Javanese mysticism of this and other near mythical rulers of the past.
King Browijoyo V was the last ruler of the Majapahit kingdom, once an empire that stretched over vast parts of the archipelago and
the Malay Peninsula. He was defeated by the rising Muslim chiefdoms of the Pasisir (north coast of Java) which were supported by
the nine Walis of Java. Many kejawen followers are highly intrigued in the history of this king since he was the one of the last royal
patrons and practitioners of the purely Hindu-buddhist mystical legacy. Pre-Muslim Javansese mysticism is a topic of intense
speculation and interest.

72
life. But additionally these activities, he hoped, would somehow proffer him with what we could call
respectability among the public. In short someone who could be trusted. Ultimately this respectability would
serve him well when he was to release his manuscript to the public. He knew that credibility was something
earned through a spotless reputation of serving the community in a selfless manner. Although the Javanese
audiences are familiar with such half mythological histories as most tend to partake in this language of the
invisible, Agus did not want to take any chance in his desire to get approval.
Apprehending the protocol reserved for visionary authors such as the famous court pujangga of former
times, and to which he identifies himself in this particular project, he made sure he is preparing for the moment
when he will officially disclose his writings to the public. Besides his reputation as an honest healer, mystical
teacher and protector of Javanese culture in general, he surrounds himself with a group of friends from
notorious circles. Obviously, the circles that matter to his situation are the ones related to the Kratons of
Yogyakarta and Solo, as well as to the artistic and cultural circles of the periphery. Amongst others, Pak J., the
leader of the Hadiningrat houses gamelan was just such a figure. Pak J. often visited Agus for nightlong debates
on philosophy and kejawen, and he told me personally about the highest esteem he had for Agus:

At a Wayang Kulit show under the pendopo at the Magangan courtyard of the Yogyakarta Kraton, Pak J.
came to greet Agus and me right before he was to take his seat amongst the orchestra in front of the court
dhalang Ki Timbul. Pak J. came with an entourage of other important abdi dalem, amongst which the juru
kunci (spiritual guardian) of Mount Merapi, Mbah Marijan. As we were being introduced, this group was
joined by another illustrious guest. Indeed we had the honour of shaking hands with the younger brother of
the Sultan, Raden Gusti Yudoningrat, who is the head of the Kratons army and royal collections of
heirlooms (pusaka). After some light chatting, Pak J. declared that his very respectable friend Agus, here in
our midst, was about to achieve something very important, a work they would all soon recognize the
immense value of. Everyone nodded in silence and he left it at this cryptic announcement, but I realized
that this was a historic moment for Agus. He was obviously very pleased with the evolution of things at that
time.

In recent months (April 2004) Agus was able to erect a school for traditional Javanese healing, the
Lembaga Pelatihan Kerja Seni Pengobatan Timur Tamilin, with the help of a grant from the Dinas
Kesehatan. The curriculum of this school proposes his version of spiritual healing with amongst others,
acupressure, prana massage and Jamu Yin-Yang. Previously Agus stated that this had been forecasted by his
companion-spirit Gusti Panular in the name of Maha Esa (God). I imagined that his circle of friends who
regularly join him during that ritual were not surprised by the turn of things. Their belief was that it was bound
to happen, an irreversible divine predicament of sorts, and their confidence in this burgeoning guru seemed
resolute. Agus himself told me about the necessityonce a practitioner became involved in these particular
mystical exercisesto never doubt ones instinctive goals but instead to develop them with unremitting resolve.
Ora iso ngomong nyobo, kudu diamalkan: One may not speak about trying; it must be achieved because one has
conviction.
The advantage of having been able to follow Agus in his activities, both as a dukun and as a kejawen
guru, was to be able to ascertain how such a figure gradually obtains a degree of authority amongst his
73
surrounding community and consequently, through rumours and hearsay, a larger public. This authority he had
gained through his own insistence on the relevancy of mystical methods to know and acquire power through
personal experience. This power was then transferred into his own practical activities of healing and teaching. It
is important to note that this situation is only made possible if the larger community in which he evolves is
responsive to these types of esoteric and mystical endeavours, and more importantly acknowledges the ultimate
potential benefits that they represent for the community itself. A receptive cultural atmosphere is necessary for
people such as Agus or Joko to even be able to perform and develop their activities in total freedom.
As this public attitude is prevalent in Yogyakarta, Agus, as a total cultural broker, strives to gain an
even better name for traditional healers such as him through the activist organisation BATTRA and his own
school of the healing arts. My point is that through the experience of such a figure as Agus, the contemporary
cultural values of the wider community may be reflected upon in a straightforward manner. Concurrently it
seems to me that however long this cultural validation of and fascination with the invisible has persisted in
places like South Central Java, it was never as popular and in as much demand than it is in the present era of
modernization and globalization.

74
 Chapter 5: Dukun (II)

5.1 Sugeng

Prewangan: Spirits are given a voice

When I first came to Java in 1997, I would sometimes hear stories of mediums that could upon will
invite spirits to enter their body and have these then speak through their mouths. Usually this was done upon the
request of a family or an individual who wished to ask the spirit certain questions to which it was hard or
impossible to find answers with more logical or usual methods. The nature of most questions would be of the
divination type or relating to obscure causal relations. For example a person would ask about which choice to
make, unsure about the right decision and fearing disaster if making the wrong one. This could concern issues of
work, travel, marriage and so on. Or a person would ask the spirit to clarify a doubt or suspicion that he had,
look for a cause or origin of problems, stolen objects, misfortune etc. Sometimes general advice about ones
future course of life is requested.
The medium involved brings about this possibility by basically invoking a specific spirit to take
possession of his body, while the formers soul rests outside of his body. One could conceive of the mediums
body as an emptied vessel which in turn gets filled with a different life-force, the ghost of a non-human astral
being. In the region of Yogyakarta, such mediums are named dukun prewangan (or d. tiban). The general attitude
towards them is very ambiguous to say the least, as their activities are highly reprimanded and suspicious
amongst certain groups of people while it is common knowledge that many other people use their skills on a
regular basis. It is in my opinion rather difficult to sort the critics or the supporters of prewangan activities in neat
categories according to religious conviction or social status. In my experience such arbitrary categories were
blurred when it concerned the issue of using these particular dukun to obtain vital information. As Geertz notes
about dukun tiban, the poor social acceptability of such a practitioner is exchanged for the quality of greater and
more immediate access of power through direct possession. (Geertz 1960: 100) As we have seen with Keeler, it
is spiritual power, nurtured by a life of asceticism and moral discipline, which conveys a mystical master with a
general public respect, as if this recognized type of power somehow emanates from them during interaction.
(Keeler 1982: 175) None of this is possible for the dukun prewangan because the power comes from a foreign
source, a spirit indeed. Nonetheless, many people pressured by drawbacks in these crazy times (zaman edan)
cannot be bothered by such ethical principles in their quest to find solutions or treatments to their various
problems. It makes sense that in a society less and less affected by concerns for hierarchy according to the old
Javanist etiquette, prewangan could logically receive more requests for their perceived ability to help.
During the compilation of my research-proposal concerning the dukun of the Yogyakarta region, it
was clear that I was going to try to find such dukun prewangan to serve as informants on this particular activity. I
am particularly interested in how modern problems or issues that arise with the economical and political

75
adjustments in early 21st century Java can be addressed using such archaic forms of ritualistic activities, of which
prewangan is a clear example. Based on observations and conversations concerning this and other types of
spiritual strategies, I found that for a selected amount of people and groups in the Yogyakarta region these
activities were valued in their quest for harmony and wellness. I see that this type of service, based on clues or
help from the invisible world to which dukun have a privileged access, is regarded as totally relevant in the
formation of decision-making in the social landscape. My initial guess was that this sounded like a rather
marginal method for people to choose in their quest to improve harmony in their daily lives. During the
fieldwork however I realized that it was more common to consult the help of a medium than I had imagined. I
discovered that people from various levels of society would solicit such mediums to obtain answers to their
questions and worries. I looked forward to seeing the findings of a research in the sociological context of the
dukun phenomena in Java, and to see how these powerful and sometimes controversial practitioners are
perceived in modern times by different Javanese communities and individuals.
Before I returned to Java to meet with dukun and attend their divination activities, I tried to inform
myself on the subject with the hopes of finding previous reports in the scientific and colonial literature which
dealt with cases of prewangan in the past. In this respect I would like to mention an article, written in 1902 by the
Dutch scholar Lekkerkerker on the element of dukun in Madura and Java. The merit of this article, albeit short
and concise, lies in the fact that it is arguably one of the earliest, if not the earliest, ethnographic report on the
subject, making it invaluable for comparative research in the field of religious and magical practices of the
Javanese. In his article entitled Enkele opmerkingen over sporen van Shamanisme bij Madoerezen en Javanen,
Cornelis Lekkerkerker essentially attempts to fill the void (or lacuna?) left by his compatriot the great Professor
Wilken47 in his treatise about shamanism and religious beliefs amongst the people of the Indische archipelago.
Indeed, in Wilkens dissertation, which offers numerous concrete examples of people in the archipelago who
practice some form of shamanism, the case of the Madurese and the Javanese is singularly absent. Lekkerkerker,
who deplores this situation as early as 1902, argues that the dogmas and practice of natuurgodsdiensten
(animism) do not yet belong to the popular folklore of Java. He pertinently points out the active status of
various animistic practices on the island. As an illustration of his argument he brings up the phenomenon of the
dukun, which he calls the magical practitioner per excellence, as reported from observations on Madura and Java.

In Madura, the shamanic practitioner is called dhoekon kedjhiman or just kedjhiman. Djhim comes from the
Arabic djinn, which means spirit. Some people also say dhoekon se kesosobhan stan, dukun within who a setan
(demon) has landed. Another common denomination is the term dhoekon reng-bharengan, dukun who takes a
companion (in this case a spirit). This last word actually corresponds to the common Central-Javanese name
for a shaman, dukun prewangan. From these various labels it is already evident that the Javanese and Madurese
shamans belong to that category of practitioners who temporarily ban their own individual soul from their
body to receive and host a spirit. Clearly it is believed that it is the spirit who gives advice, pronounces the
divination or points out the appropriate medicine. The shaman plays an entirely secondary role from the
moment that the spirit has come down inside him.(Lekkerkerker 1902)48

Wilken, G. A. De verspreide geschriften. Semarang : G. C. T. van Dorp, 1912

47

Lekkerkerker, C. Enkele opmerkingen over sporen van Shamanisme bij de Madoerezen en Javanen, Tijdschrift voor Indische
48

Taal-, Land-, en Volkenkunde Deel XLV, Batavia, Albrecht &Co, 1902

76
 Lekkerkerker, clearly describing what appears to be a dukun prewangan (as they are called in the
Yogyakarta region), notes that on Madura and Java, it is mostly women who fulfil the role of this type of dukun
although he names a few male dukun in the region of Sumenep (Eastern Madura) and Bangkalan. He further
reports that each spirit always descends into its specific host kedjhiman, and in the case of the passing away of the
host the spirit will choose another.
Evidence from the literature suggests dukun prewangan still perform divination and magical rituals today
in Central Java as they probably did almost a hundred years ago, with the same array of mantras and spells and
preparatory material. Clifford Geertz (1960) mentions the similar dukun tiban in his study from the fifties. In Java,
the dukun tibans method of possession is considered a direct way to contact spirits, but it carries less esteem than
the efforts of the dukun biasa. Ward Keeler (1982) admits that the mostly female Javanese Prewangan earns much
less social respect from the Javanese public compared to the regular dukun kebatinan whose power is acquired
though severe ascetic practice. Roy Jordaan (1985) similarly replicates Lekkerkerker that on Madura, dukun jinn
are nearly always women.49 These observations show the resilience of a system of beliefs that has survived
through many centuries, although it will probably be impossible to assess exactly when such practices first
originated on Java. As a comparative exercise, I will below relate examples of different situations in which a
dukun prewangan was involved, at the same time introducing this dukun as a third informant dukun who I spent
quite some time with; Pak Sugeng from Krapyak. In contrast to the observations of previous authors, this
dukun pewangan is male. I have not been able to find a female practitioner in the area around Yogyakarta.

Prewangan in service of a family

My encounter with a dukun who specialized in prewangan in his array of services took place in Sewon,
Bantul south of Yogya, in the house of a family who had been our neighbours back when my wife and I lived
there in 1998. I had a lot of esteem for Pak D. and his family. I went to visit them last year when I returned for
my fieldwork, and discovered that Bapak had passed away. They were very pleased by my visit, and made me
promise to come for regular visits as I found time. Eventually, after I told them the purpose of that particular
stay in Java, the family progressed to be full of interesting resources concerning the subject of local dukun and
mystical adepts. Ibu D. and her son Rico especially became interested in my findings and wanted to help me to
get even more data on dukun, magical pilgrimage places and other elements pertaining to the invisible
dimension of Javanese reality.
Soon enough they put me in touch with a middle aged man named Sugeng who was a regular visitor at
their house. He looked like an unassuming and simple man; he came from a rather modest background. At our
first meeting organised by Bu D. he was very friendly and direct, constantly joking around in the familiar ways of
a Javanese man who often spends his time in the little warung on the roadsides in the company of peers. That
night he confirmed the fact that he regularly helped people of all walks of life with problems or requests of a
supernatural nature. Although he professed to be knowledgeable about preparing powerful jamu, he did not

49
Geertz 1960: 99-13, Keeler 1982: 223-228, Jordaan 1985: 179-180
77
consider himself to be a public healer and rarely applied his skills for healing requests except when it concerned
his direct family.
In fact he often offered prewangan service to this particular family. On one of these prewangan sances
where I was present, he lost consciousness and returned speaking with other voices as if in a trance:

The attendees would ask him questions when he was in such a state. First, they would establish which
spirit was present inside the stunted body. Next followed questions about work and trying to make ends
meet. What were they to do or to make that would sell, on what days should they sell it? And what colour or
fragrance of cakes should they bake for the market-sale on Sunday so that they would be laku (sold-out)?
Bu D. and her daughters, while not in school, indeed survived in part by catering for parties and selling food
at the market. They knew to ask for detailed elements such as right dates, right food, colours and types. Bu
D. sincerely thought this information would make a difference on sales in a strange psychological manner.
The spirit in Sugeng, believed to be the one of the comedian Kepeng, responded to some of the questions,
sometimes explicitly positive or negative and at other times with short metaphorical anecdotes referring to
Wayang heroes or Javanese poetical characters. I was quite amazed by his precision of judgement of these
worldly situations which were confusing the mortals in the room. Further questions of clairvoyance were
asked, and he would predict trivial things to happen, such as an earthquake in Purworejo the next morning
(which happened), or where to find a valuable antique keris buried in a field somewhere. Everyone listened
attentively, now beyond the initial excitement of the prewangan phenomenon.

After a while Sugeng regained his wits and acted as if he had been away for a while, surprised to see himself in
this room and surrounded by these people and the plates of food by his knees. Asked if he remembered anything
he said he went into a dark dream where he saw himself as a double lying on the side of his own body. When
people can see their own body from the perspective of an outside position, Javanese often say it is bilokasi: the
ability, whether induced or not, to be in two places at the same time. I was told by Sugeng that this is possible if
ones own ghost leaves the material body to explore another place. When induced consciously, with the help of a
special ilmu, this type of action is known as nrogosukmo. But Sugeng did not make any reference to astral travel
when he was doing the prewangan ritual. As far as he is concerned, he lies on the side and sleeps for a while. Later
when I met Bu D. again, I asked her why and how they had first solicited the help of Sugeng to perform this type
of activity, as apparently he often came to do this at their house and would sleep over for few nights in a row.

Dukun activities as a social and national duty

Bu D. said Sugeng was a protector of the family, appointed by her late husband before he died to help
them with their various needs and provide supernatural-level protection. Apparently Sugeng had been an early
student of Pak D. in the latters function as Kyai and mystic guru and had known the family since he was a young
adult. It was thanks to Pak D. that Sugeng, leaving a life of preman (thug), became a somewhat honourable dukun.
He was taught the various ilmu of the kebatinan tradition, but at the same time learned the moral teachings of
the holy Koran under the guidance of Pak D. Ibu D. said that her husband had basically decided to take the ex-
hoodlum under his wing and saved his life as he was otherwise clearly heading straight for murka (hell in the
78
Koran). Sugeng once told me about the gratitude he felt for this man, and the moral obligation he felt to help
the Kyais family. One of the understandings that he apparently had with Pak D. was that he might have to serve
as a channel of communication between his spirit and the rest of the family. Prewangan being one of the most
common techniques to realize this type of communication explained the frequency of visits. This does not mean
that Sugeng had no other dukun activities, as he later showed, it merely shows the bond of obligation he had
with this family.
Another mystical ability for which he was renowned was demonstrated on the seventh night that he
guarded the grave of Pak D. Grave-robbers particularly look for corpses who died on a Jumat Kliwon, since it is
believed that their special daya (aura) can be borrowed for esoteric purposes. Sugeng was witnessed to have been
attacked, hit hard several times with a pacul (machete). Instead of dropping down he tackled both attackers before
they ran away. He showed no traces of cuts at all! This feat of course was remembered by lots of people in the
village, and they acknowledged the power of kekebalanbasically meaning invincibilitydisplayed by Sugeng
that night.
Kekebalan is one of the more controversial types of manifestations of the inner force, since it is
consciously learned by adepts for use in fighting and combat, or at least demonstrations of it. The search of
invincibility, a condition thought to be very real in Java, is sometimes associated with black magic and sorcery,
since the perpetrators of these evil activities fear for their protection in case of denunciation. Nonetheless the
science of kekebalan is very popular, from what I could observe and hear during the fieldwork, and it is
particularly appreciated in military and police circles. Nearly every dukun I have met and many other mystical
practitioners mentioned being in control of that type of power.
Of all these informants Sugeng appeared to be the most actively involved with this type of ilmu of
invincibility (see below). After the slametan for the funeral of Pak D., Sugeng was recognized as having been
appointed by the former as a supernatural protector and servant of his surviving family. This was done officially
by a council of elders of the villagemany of them kejawen practitionersin which Pak D. had been an
important member. To say that Sugeng had no choice in this decision is the truth, but it did not bother him the
least to be of service to the family. Sugeng confided in me how, triggered by the experiences with Pak D., he
slowly became a respected paranormal50 amongst specific segments of the Yogyakarta society.

Ilmu bolosewu

Besides the regular sessions between the two men, Pak D. also knew some other very powerful mystics
in the region on a personal level and had sent Sugeng to learn under their tutelage. A few of these old masters
some of whom were far more than a hundred years old according to Sugeng and Ricowere considered hermits
and lived removed from civilization in the forested hills of the Gunung Kidul district. They were considered to
be very powerful in their control of supernatural forces and secret knowledge, but because of this and their need

50
People are called paranormal for their public interventions (whether healing or other) of supernatural nature. They mostly
specialize in the kanuragan variant of mysticism, with a great emphasis on supernatural powers and spirits help. This term separates
them from jamu healers and other specialists who do not use kanuraga in their services.

79
to nurture these otherworldly capacities it was impossible for them to live with a family or in a community. Their
life had become a great lasting tapa (asceticism) and they were unable to return to the level of mere mortals.
Sugeng spent a long time in the forests with these gurus. He told me about three of them especially who all had a
thing in common; since they were living by themselves in the company of spirits they had all mastered the ilmu
named Bolosewu. Literally translated as thousand ghosts, this esoteric knowledge allegedly allowed one to have a
thousand supernatural beings as helpers. This multitude of spirits answers the requests of the mystic in any
venture he undertakes. One of them, Pak Yoso, for instance was known in the region of Wonosari to have built
a double-storied house there in a matter of three days with no outside help. People who had witnessed this house
being erected almost overnight without spotting any workers besides Pak Yoso soon concluded that he was
blessed with ilmu Bolosewu. (personal communication)
Many people in Java believe this to be possible, and the critics actually reinforce the possibility of its
existence by arguing that this type of request always requires a huge sacrifice or payback to the spirits, a concept
named imbalan. This attitude I found was so common on Java. You will obviously find many people who
criticize kejawen practices, dealing with spirits, prewangan and pesugihan, and all of the other pagan activities that
concern the invisible world. But instead of clearly refuting the existence of these phenomena and forces, or just
merely calling it unfounded pagan beliefs, these critics will instead complain about the cost that humans are to
pay with their karma or in the afterlife to the spirits, demons, gods and other ancestors for having requested and
obtained their supernatural help.
When I state throughout this paper that many people in Java believe in these supernatural
phenomena, I do not imply that they all support and partake in the secrets and possibilities of the invisible, far
from it. The reality is that if they were asked if these things and the efficiency of the kejawen techniques to tap
into the realm of these things were real or true in this present experiential world, hardly anyone would deny this.
The question of whether it is right or not is a totally different matter. The atmosphere that is hereby created is
one where no unusual happening or incident is taken for granted. Interpretations of these incidents often clearly
deviate from rational or Cartesian paths of logic to arrive at an explanation, and when one follows and observes
such interpretation on a nearly daily basis, a certain structure of thought emerges, doubled by a specific language,
what I will call a language of the invisible to reflect Romain Bertrands nomenclature. (Bertrand 2002: 27)
The rumour that Pak Yoso, one of Sugengs gurus, was helped by a thousand spirits to build his house
became, for lack of a better rationalization, the official explanation to the incident. Sugeng told me that it did not
help the popularity of Pak Yoso in the community to have demonstrated these powers in such a public manner
as he was suspected of dabbling with illicit forces and even sorcery. He eventually retreated to the forest when he
was about 65 years old and has virtually never come out of it, sustaining himself with everything one needs, even
cigarettes, with the use of magic. A recurrent theme of stories that involve ilmu bolosewu is the presence of tiger
ghosts amongst the faithful helpers of the figure who controls this ilmu. Macan putih (white tigers) are often
reported to be seen in the forests around Wonosari, but always at night. Sugeng said that during his initiation
period at Pak Yosos cave in the forest, white tigersboth real and ghostly in appearanceswould come to Pak
Yosos feet. He would whisper into their ears whereupon they would disappear and bring back all sorts of
objects and food for his survival. Very seriously he would tell me that Pak Yoso often metamorphosed into a

80
tiger himself, especially on New Years Day or the first day of the month Suro of the Javanese calendar. I never
sensed any scepticism amongst my Javanese listeners when I recounted this.

Guru of Ilmu Kakebalan

After our first meeting at Ibu D.s home where he had performed the short prewangan related above,
Sugeng would invite me to join him on some of his other favourite assignments. I accepted these invitations
because I was keen on following this intriguing character to determine what services he provided to society in
general and what sorts of people his clients consisted of. I suspected he was rather genuine in his function as a
dukun since he never asked for money or retribution from his clients, leaving it entirely to their discretion. His
lifestyle differed very much from Agus or Jokos. Whereas Agus would rarely make house calls, preferring to
operate from his practice at home and Joko most often receives his clients at home nowadays, Sugeng was a
drifter and was hardly ever home. It was much harder to reach him as a result. So when he would call to invite
me to join him, I would accept immediately.
We nearly always met at the main bus station of Yogyakarta where he would hang out at the booth of
the stations security police. We would play cards with the active policemen and security officials who were there
to make sure that the bus traffic ran smoothly and that no one created trouble in the station, which looked like a
mini-town on its own. One of Sugengs good friends was the Captain of the police forces of South Yogya
(KAPOLRES), in Kota Gede, who occasionally showed up in civilian clothes on his weekly tours. They would
chat about recent criminal cases or disturbances in town, discussing the search for a tersangka (suspect) or the
results of criminal investigations. Sugeng introduced me as a handicraft exporter who came along to visit angker
places, which would never fail to generate exciting and light-hearted exchanges of stories involving ghost,
haunted places and strange supernatural incidents. I came to the realization that Sugeng had a long history of
cooperating with the police and the armed forces in specific cases as a supernatural consultant. This was later
confirmed by him as he started to boast about numerous occasions where he had helped to solve a case. These
stories involved supernatural feats of divination, clairvoyance and interrogations of stubborn suspects. His skill
at the prewangan technique was common knowledge amongst all the acquaintances at the station, both when
applied to professional purposes as well as personal/familial purposes of individual policemen, bus owners and
ticket salesmen around the station compound.
He told me that he started providing these types of services after he had accomplished his training in
the Gunungkidul hills with secluded mystics such as the aforementioned Pak Yoso and Mbah M. who was
allegedly 130 years old near Pantai Krakal. Having mastered the different ilmu kanuraga, and amongst other
things the prominently regarded ilmu kekebalan (power of invincibility), he soon landed a job as a freelance
instructor of tenaga dalam at the military camp of the Indonesian Marine corps (BRIMOB) on Jalan Imogiri in
Kuta Gede, directly south of Yogya. Sugeng said that all the soldiers would be trained in the jurus (mystical drills)
to sharpen their abilities to use tenaga dalam, especially in combination with the famous Indonesian martial arts
Pencak silat. This fighting technique is rarely taught without assimilating the tenaga dalam exercises first. In the eyes
of Javanese connoisseurs it would prove utterly useless to do otherwise since tenaga dalam offers the power

81
necessary to make the pencak silat moves efficient51. The two are thus complementary to each other or so they are
regarded by the armed forces or the police.
But the reason of Sugengs popularity as an instructor was undeniably his skill at teaching the methods
of the secret ilmu of kekebalan. He said that all the officers and soldiers who were sent from Yogyakarta or
Magelang camps to troubled regions of the archipelagomany of whom went to Aceh at the time of recording
this informationwere avid patrons of the kekebalan powers, for understandable reasons. Boasting a bit, he
added that no one of those soldiers that he had personally instructed with this ilmu ever appear on the lists of
war casualties, and dared me to verify it.
I remind the reader about my surroundings during this unusual conversation, sitting between a couple
of security guards and an important police commander who had close ties with the Kuta Gede Marines Brigade.
Sugeng was boasting, yet he was sure of his statement. I never did pursue his peculiar offer to check the lists, but
it was interesting to see that the audience around us seemed to be convinced of Sugengs assertion. No doubt
was emitted, as a few of them had had personal experience of Sugengs supernatural abilities and had no
apparent reasons to doubt him. Most of the people there knew he was regularly active in those army camps.
They completely accepted the fact that people who were scared for their own lives (numerous soldiers had died
in Aceh by then) would gladly put their full trust in the hands of an avowed dukun who could offer them such a
thing as invincibility from bullets and sharp weaponry.
I state this anecdote here because it was not the first time I had heard of the popularity of kekebalan
amongst troops and security forces. Joko (see 3.3), had in the past been hired as a tenaga dalam instructor for
troops at the Asrama Tentara NI on Jalan Godean on the western outskirts of town and at the large Army base
in Magelang. He too had trained soldiers preparing for pacification missions in other islands, and the quality of
kekebalan was equally much solicited in his case by officers and other combat troops. A common denominator
between Joko and Sugeng was that they were both very eloquent about two historical centres of kekebalan
practice in Java, Banyuwangi and Banten. These two regions, each at one extreme of the Javanese land, were
supposed to be the pusat (hubs) for all sorts of masters and dukun who specialized in this type of activity. Both
dukun had visited these places at one time or other in their quest to master the arts of kanuraga.
Banten, on the extreme western tip of Java, is especially known from historical chronicles to be a place
where such miraculous feats could be witnessed. It is mentioned in the Serat Centhini as a place famous for its
great amount of witches, and today this reputation holds fast as it is the place one needs to go to find powerful
dukun santet (sorcerers, witches) performing unscrupulous acts of black magic. It is said that kekebalan was used
originallybesides for feats of prowess at warby evil dukun to protect them from eventual retribution by
opposing dukun or mobs. Sugeng told me that the art of kekebalan has different skill levels of which the ultimate
one is the capacity to change into the shape of an animal to escape pursuit or become invisible to eventual
assailants.
Joko was more sceptical about the capacity of non-mystics to acquire such powers without going
through a severe ascetic ordeal first, something which was not particularly popular at military asramas. He himself

51
for an elaboration on Pencak Silat see Barendreght. Bart Written by the Hand of Allah: Pencak Silat of Minangkabau, West
Sumatra in van Zanten and van Roon (eds.) Oideion, The Performing Arts Worldwide 2, Research School CNWS, Leiden, 1995:
pp. 113-130.
82
would prepare a jimat (amulet) for the individual soldier who could then call upon the power at the required
moment. But even then that power if invincibility is temporary and will disappear as soon as the soldier no
longer implements certain mystical practices which are essential according to Joko. Another famous exhibition of
kakebalan is the various trance-dances which are performed across Java and Bali, where dancers afflict themselves
with all sorts of weapons but apparently remain unharmed. I have witnessed several of these acts of resistance to
pain during Yogyanese Jathilan performance. Again, the feats are explained by the fact that the actor is
temporarily possessed by a spirit (khodam) which itself is insensitive to pain and which lends a protective aura
around the body of the dancer.

Clairvoyance help for Police

Besides the periodical emphasis on kekebalan instruction, Sugengs admitted role in the military and police also
revealed the invisible dimension of crime and the repression or investigatory methods of crime by the security
forces. One such case involving Sugeng dealt with the stolen car of a businessman in Sleman, where he had been
invited to attempt a supernatural localization of the car and eventually of the carjacker as well.

He showed me the police forms indicating the details of the theft, with information on the car, the owner
of the car and a general description of the incident. He said he had performed a divination ritual at the
spot of theft and at the owners house to invoke the help of astral witnesses. He had come up with a
strange riddle consisting of symbols and Javanese and Arabic script which if elucidated would give the
exact current location of the car. On the night we were discussing this he said he had been up all night
translating the riddle with the help of two police officers. The next day he left with an investigation team
to the region of Pati in the north of Central Java Province. A week later he told me they had found the
car, helped by his indications, and the police had moreover uncovered a regional gang of carjackers by the
same token. A related case involving the recent arrest of one of the presumed leaders of a gang in
Banyuma,s west of Yogyakart,a was also based on Sugengs divination efforts. This story was published in
the local newspaper, Kedelautan Rakyat. They had suspected that this theft was part of a bigger series of car
and motorcycle thefts in the province of Central Java and the DIY, which is why they requested the help
of someone like Sugeng.

Interestingly, when I showed the newspaper article to some of my neighbours to ask if they had any
comments on the authenticity of the original ritual which initiated the ultimate solving of the case, their reaction
was not at all one of disbelief. Instead of doubting that it was really the divination that had triggered the spate of
arrests and recoveries of stolen vehicles, they were upset that the police had seemingly waited so long to hire a
dukun to do the job while so many people lost their cars or motorcycles. Other dukun commented on this
basically along the same lines, dismissing the difficulty of performing such a divination and arguing that they
could have achieved the same results if they had been requested to do so.
Joko said that the truth was that in some areas outside of the Yogyakarta province, some Muslim
clerics had exercised pressures on the security forces to chase mystical practitioners instead of using them for
their own purposes. This could explain the lag in this criminal investigation of an inter-provincial scale.
83
Apparently, dukun, diviners and other practitioners of the illicit powers were being victims of a conspicuous
campaign of discreditation by certain influential Islamic groups tied to political parties. One could probably
justify these pressures because of the proliferation of genuine cheaters and manipulators (penipu) posing as
mystical experts who indeed specialized in deluding many individuals in Javanese society. This was an inevitable
and recurrent topic in my conversations with various dukun in Yogyakarta. They all agreed that there was not
only an increase of well-intended aliran kebatinan which attracted prospective mystical adepts, but that this
phenomenon was accompanied by an increase of charlatans and cheaters who were out to take advantage of the
people in the Javanese communities that had been hardest hit by the krismon of the 90s.
Agus (see 2.3) had warned me about this evolution in the field of traditional healing (pengobatan
tradisional) and that is one of the determining reasons why he took his position as secretary of the BATTRA
organization so seriously. It was extremely important to him to rid the community of these self professed healers
and mystical experts whose only aim was financial gains, and in so doing gave the overall profession of dukun
and traditional healer a bad name. An old debate of religious integrity versus pagan practices was continually
rekindled by this deplorable situation, but now it had taken an additional politicized aspect. Joko, Agus and
Sugeng were aware of the sometimes radical position of reformists towards their alleged role as dukun in society,
but in Yogyakarta this antagonism was not significant enough to break up the deep cultural values concerning
mysticism in general and the position of dukun in particular.
Indeed, as the anecdote of the car-theft investigation showsas well as the insistence of army and
police to learn the powers of invincibility from such mystical specialiststhere is a deeply ingrained recognition
of the determining role that these specialists have in their society. It is exactly this recognition from various social
actors in the Yogyakarta society, which constantly emerges when one follows the footsteps of a respected dukun
long enough, that I had set out to uncover and report on in this paper.

A society in need of supernatural adjustments

The following anecdote illustrates another evocative case which clearly shows this recognition. The
patron of supernatural protection here was no less than the Sultan of Yogyakarta himself, flanked by his court-
entourage and some important officials from the city council such as the mayor and the gubernatorial cabinet.
The occasion was the 247th anniversary of the Yogyakarta Kratonand by extension the city as a whole, and
was held on October 7th 2003 at the local football stadium MandalaKrida.

The Lomba Ulang Tahun was a very colourful event, with the several old-fashioned army divisions of the
Kraton performing all sorts of parades, and groups of students from virtually all the colleges of the city
represented in choreographed dances. The night was concluded with fireworks to the dramatic sounds of a
gamelan orchestra. I noticed that the section of the tribune set aside for the Sultan and other VIPs was
surrounded by a discreet cordon of men in traditional Yogyanese attire, dressed with batik and the typical
blangkong (type of beret) but no other more conventional types of security guards were present. Someone
down below on the field told me that the Sultan did not particularly fear aggression on his person, that is
just unthinkable here, but that he was indeed protected by some of the more powerful mystics of the

84
 province who had been called upon just for this major event. Most of these wong pintar served as abdi dalem
at the court, but others were simple men form the surrounding countryside who were said to be assiduous
kebatinan specialists. In any case they were there to avert any incident that might occur inside the stadium
that night, which was open to the public for free.

One of those mystics, an old man named Pak H. explained to me that he and the others had been
commissioned to come here by the captain of the Kratons ceremonial guard, but that he had no formal
obligation to do so. The only real fear that the organizers had was that gangs of political parties would clash with
each other or with some of the thousands of students that where present52. Rumours had it that some of these
gangs, attracted by the crowds, could show up on the parking lot of the stadium. That and petty crime such as
pickpocket were the only potential problems for this night. I was amazed indeed to see that there was virtually
no police or armed guards present anywhere inside the stadium, not even near the royal tribune.
When I asked Pak H. if he and his colleagues were suspecting any action against the Sultan or the
important officials, he calmly responded that the simple presence of this cordon of metaphysical security would
prevent any such action. In fact, the thirty or so mystics hired by the Kraton for the night were collectively
keeping a huge supernatural fence in place around the stadiums perimeter, he said. Conceived virtually as a
major protective dome of energy, most of the people informed, including the Sultan himself, were quite assured
that nothing wrong could happen. Not even rain will fall in the stadium! Pak K. exclaimed. With this
exclamation he informed me that some of the mystical guards were doubling up as pawang hujan, basically dukun
in charge of controlling the weather and the clouds. Pawang hujan are always present at major events such as the
Garebeg religious ceremonies or any other lomba (event) organized by the Kraton. Important all-night wayang kulit
performances and wayang wong dance contests are usually assigned some of these pawang hujan. Many such dukun
are solicited by farmers as well, especially in the dry season, to help bring about the opposite effect, rainfall.

Pusaka hunting and Exorcism

The approving attitude of the aforementioned police supervisor at the Umbulharjo bus station towards Sugeng
only confirmed this latent recognition of the necessity at times to apply supernatural remedies to potential or
existing social problems. It encouraged me to attach more importance to the peculiar character of Sugeng. As he
felt that he had convinced me of his integrity as a paranormal, he became keen on accepting to let me document
some of his other activities besides prewangan and kekebalan services.
He would usually call me to visit several angker places or witness incidents, such as the exorcism of a poltergeist
phenomenon in a house which was thought to be haunted by its owner. Another time we went hunting for a

52
These fears were totally justified, as in this period of presidential campaigning for the forthcoming elections the usual clashes
between opposing political gangs were taking place at intervals almost everywhere on Java. The situation in Yogyakarta was rather
calm in this context, but there were continuous incidents of reciprocal intimidation, mostly between supporters of the PDI, PPP,
PKB or Golkar. I personally witnessed one of those minor fights in front of Shalims house, a friend of Joko and a staunch PDI
supporter, where the antagonists were wielding machetes.
85
pusaka in the graveyard of Ki Ageng Mangir53. Pusaka hunting, which involves a sacred heirloom filled with
ancestral kodam power being retrieved from the astral realm, is a popular activity of many mystics in the region.
Sugeng allegedly performed quite a lot of these requests for various people, notably military and police personnel
with whom he spends a lot of time. Like the kekebalan training, the pusaka are considered as luck giving jimat or
talisman, and many a soldier sent to the front will carry theirs faithfully close to the body. Two methods of
retrieving the khodam energy are possible, Sugeng explained. The first is when an object dear to the client is
ritually filled with this power, usually in a graveyard or wherever the dukun feels it appropriate to come into
contact with a companion spirit or ancestor. The second is to directly obtain the sacred object from the realm of
spirits, usually following a ritual invocation such as the one described above with Joko. In Sugengs company, I
witnessed two such ritual acquisitions. The first was at Ki Ageng Mangirs graveyard mentioned above where a
small gilded Koran (Kitab Stambul) was obtained for a Muslim Pesantren teacher who was a neighbor of Sugeng
in Krapyak. The second occasion took place inside the Kratons walls and involved a bronze ornamented keris
commissioned by a client from Surabaya, a civil-engineer who was coming to Yogya to celebrate IdulFitri (the
end of the Ramadan fasting period) with his family.
Another recurrent activity of Sugeng was the exorcism of alleged haunted houses. The phenomenon
known in the West as poltergeist is certainly believed to exist in Java. Many reports and stories tell about
domestic places where strange noises or invisible activities take place without the intervention of humans living
there. The spirits which are believed to create the stir are nearly always unwelcome guests, although it is common
knowledge that well-intended spirits of ancestors or nature-spirits often take residence side by side with the
inhabitants of the house. Islamic orthography qualifies these as good or bad djinns, the good ones being
welcome and the bad ones in need of removal (dipindahkan). In ngoko terms they are simply known as demit or
lelembut, none of which are especially desirable inside ones house (Geertz 1960:19). Such beings are said to
favour the places with water, thus it is often in the mandi (bathroom) and toilets or kitchens that a Javanese will
feel or hear the presence of the spirit. Inevitably the place where one stores his/her pusaka (such as a keris) will
often show audible or even visual signs of their presence as well. A friend once demonstrated that noises came
from inside a dresser in which his keris was storedy, soon after the midnight hour had passed, in accordance with
what he had previously predicted. A trembling of the door-panels and an irregular knocking on the wood were
the manifestation of the presence of the penunggu. Elsewhere, in Kasihan, a furniture factory was shut by the
owner for two days because the toilets of the workers were haunted by a plaguing demon (buto) which had
chosen residence in the nearby well. Not until a dukun had performed a ngruwatan ritual for appeasement and
eventual displacement of the spirit had the production restarted.

5.2 Agung

Kedudukan: Professionals solicit dukun to beat competition

53
Though this famous 16th century rival of Senopati, the first Sultan of Mataram II, is said to be buried in three different graveyards
around Yogyakarta: one near Jalan Godean in Sidoarum, one near Bantul and the most famous one in the royal cemetery of Kota
Gede where his tomb lies outside and inside the royal mausoleum.
86
 I had met Agung through the intermediary of Sugeng at a mystic tarikat meeting at Parangtritis beach
on an auspicious Jumat kliwon night. That night had been good to him since he walked home from there with a
newly acquired tombak, an ancient type of spear-point. He agreed to meet me later that week at his house near the
Ambarrukmo Hotel on Jalan Solo. He lived in a small house made with old-fashioned rattan walls, in a packed
neighbourhood with small streets and imposing houses. This was definitely a recent neighbourhood, judging
from the other houses, and indeed it was confirmed by the Pak RT, the chief of the local block. We had all
gathered at the little pos kamling, a hut which was destined to shelter the night vigil patrols, consisting of men
from the neighbourhood. The village-head told me that this was the village of Ambarrukmo, which had been
built on lands which were owned by the Kraton, the direct property of the Sultan in fact. The construction of the
village had only started in the mid-eighties, and the latest additions of perumahan (multiple-house blocks) were the
sign of the latest wave of real estate speculation in the region. Agungs house was in fact the oldest structure in
the area, built almost entirely out of wood and bamboo in the forties when this was all still farmland. It looked
quite out of place, surrounded by these fortresses of concrete, with its more typical Javanese yard containing all
sorts of fruit and palm trees. But Agung, who lived there with his wife and two kids, really liked it that way. He
said the house reminded him of his ancestral village in East Java near Gunung Lawu.
We had a discussion with the village-head who deplored the fact that there were no longer established
village traditions here. He was referring to the absence of relations and mutual help amongst neighbours, the
communal rituals such as bersih desa and the cleaning of the cemetery, in one word the custom known as gotong-
royong54. How could it be otherwise though? he said, remarking that this modern village was housing families
and students who came from the four corners of Java or Indonesia. Most of them mind their own business;
there is not as much interaction as was the case in the past or in the countryside.
The sis kamling or ronda, uniting volunteer men to make nightly patrols around the neighbourhood, was
an exception to that social apathy which according to them inevitably came with modernization. They would play
cards, drink tea and relay each other in groups of three to do the rounds. I mention this here because it was
always at these patrols that I would meet up with Agung, and consequently join the card-games and trivial
chatter. It was a good setting to collect information, if one was not too sleepy at least as the night progressed.
Agung was respected among these men, since they knew he was an upright healer and paranormal. They would
occasionally solicit his help to perform all sorts of slametan, curing and penghasihan rituals. One night there was a
performance and celebration to commemorate a brand new concrete hut which would now serve as the shelter
for the ronda. This was welcome since the monsoon was especially wet this season. Agung and the others would
relate how he had ritually blessed the new structure by using sand from Gunung Lawu in the mortar. When I
asked why this was important, he took me aside and we started to wander on a patrol.
Some things he preferred not to disclose in front of his neighbours, like the answer to my previous
question for instance. Gunung Lawu is near of Magetan district where he grew up, on the eastern slopes of the
volcano. He said his family had had a long pedigree of asceticism practicing mystics, and he followed the
tradition upon the request of his late paternal grandmother who had been a famed curer in Surakarta under the
Dutch. He had thus performed all of the usual pilgrimages and rituals at the several potent places in South-

54
For an interesting approach and discussion on tradition in Java see Pemberton, John On the Subject of Java, Cornell University
Press, Ithaca, 1994.
87
central and Eastern Java, what John Pemberton calls the Topographies of power. (Pemberton 1994:270-84) As
Pemberton reports, the places alongside the southern coast where the court of Brawijoyo V and his descendants
took refuge from the Muslim armies in the north are especially sought by a multitude of mystics and pilgrims.
Likewise, Agung had found a companion spirit in the ghost of a one-time princess from Browijoyos court at an
old grave on Lawus eastern slope. He would regularly perform special rituals to invoke the spirit and get advice
about how to pursue his quest for supernatural powers, moving from kanuraga exercise to more spiritual forms
of mysticism leading to ilmu kasampurnaan. Apparently he had succeeded in receiving the advice since he was
frequently solicited by all sorts of people to perform mystical services. The sand from Mt. Lawu, he said, came
from a place where according to legend Browijoyo V had interred a famed pusaka. It would offer an aura of
protection to the structure and by extension to the community of West Ambarrukmo.

Kedudukan

He actually didnt want to work as a public dukun, fearing that if he did, too many requests for black
magic would come upon him. According to him, dukun from the region of Gunung Lawu often had the
reputation of being unscrupulous providers of such services. He admitted that this was true, and said he had lost
quite a few friends who had decided to choose that path, blinded by greed and arrogance. So instead he chose to
humbly provide for his family by working at the cantina/cafeteria of UII (Universitas Islam Indonesia) up the
road of Jalan Kaliurang in Pakem. But the fact of working at a huge campus like this one, and previously at
Gadjah Mada University, meant that he often had requests by students for various supernatural help. Many
students would come to his house, knowing him from campus or through word-of-mouth. Most of the services
were of the pengasihan type, forcing the success rates of presentations, skripsi (theses) and graduation exams. Some
students would come to him after they had graduated and were looking for work, sometimes as far as Jakarta,
Saudi and Japan. The other main category of clients of his was professors from those campuses, officials, civil
servants and businessmen. Like Sugeng he said that he had the capacity to specialize in curing or healing, but
chose not to offer his services to that category of patients.
The above category of professionals all had one thing in common in their requests for Agung: to help
them either keep their present employee position or to get a promotion. The situation of holding ones job
and/or promotion of that job is colloquially known as kedudukan, (from the Indonesian root duduk meaning to
sit). Here we have a direct correlation of dukun with a professional life in modern establishments in Yogyakarta
and Central Java. He said that actually he was trying to restrain his activities of pengasihan for these types of
requests because they were just too many of these clients calling him up. Word-of-mouth had equally brought
people from Jakarta and Bandung to his house. He was afraid of reprisals because such activities are considered
to be on the borderline of correct ethics. Quite understandably, if it became known that one had recourse to
magic to better his position inside the organization, this potentially could create a certain vicious type of
jealousy amongst colleagues. Agung said he was aware of that, and he was waiting for the moment where
someone would decide to use some counter-magic directed at him to avenge an angry clerk. Usually this does not
happen though, as it is the client who becomes victim of santet in case of jealousy or intense grudge, a dukun
rarely being directed at. But even then these victims would first come to him since he understood the original
88
situation that would create the santet. Agung concluded that on the whole, work related pengasihan was sometimes
a delicate type of activity because of the possibility of santet reprisal, but he nevertheless admitted that it was a not
negligible source of income if the pengasihan succeeded in its purpose.
Agung was of the opinion that such requests were translating the viciousness of social relationships
nowadays. Far from the deeply ingrained tatakrama (Javanese art of living) of the past, professional people who
were exploiting all the possibilities that modernization and capitalism were bringing to Java tended to be greedy,
self-reliant and jealous of others accomplishments. Agung, originating from a modest background himself,
thought they were almost all hypocrites for portraying themselves as defenders of the traditional Javanese culture
and art of living. Business, politics and other dimensions which included positions of power were arenas of
greedy and corrupt individuals, and Agung sometimes sighed at the fact that they misused the powers of the
astral realm to achieve their dubious goals of prestige. Javanese culture had forgotten its morals in this time of
the post New Order of Suharto. He said he just wanted to help individuals to get a better life in these hard
economic times, where mass layoffs had been rampant since the krismon of 1997-98. It was thus a habit of his to
screen the potential clients before he would accept to help them.

Election magic

As kedudukan was a popular reason to go see a dukun in these troubled times, a slightly different version of this
pertaining to political elections was equally a prime request amongst dukun from the Kanuraga school.
I say this because Joko, Sugeng and Agung all had helped local officials to get elected for positions of Pak Dukuh
(village head), Pak Lurah (Mayor of a town) and even Bupati (District Regent) in some rare cases. As there were
Pak Lurah elections towards November last year, I was able to witness how some candidates came to both Jokos
and Agungs house to ask for a pengasihan ritual in order to make them more attractive to the voters. In Gamping,
Joko even received visits from all three candidates from the main competing political parties in the race; but on
different days. He himself thought this was quite funny as they all requested the same thing from him. He finally
decided through a divination ritual that one of them would be the logical favourite and helped him with a
pengasihan involving the insertion of susuk, whereupon that candidate indeed became the winner of the Pak Lurah
elections in Gamping. Agung repeated that he was often reluctant to help these people with their political
agenda as the possibility for the application of black magic was very real during election times. Popularity
contests between candidates could easily turn awry if one decides to hire an unscrupulous dukun to perform
santet on his competitor or his entourage.
Similarly, Joko was actually called to the house of his wifes uncle in Wates one day, for this latter had
been diagnosed as being victim of black magic.

The uncle had been campaigning for a Lurah candidate, functioning as his right-hand man. Joko went to
the bedroom where he had been lying in bed for almost a week now, whereupon the uncles body started
to tremble and shake very heftily. Joko talked to the spirit who had possessed him and asked who it was
that had sent the spirit to take refuge inside the uncles body. They could make out from the gargled
answer that the santet had been commissioned by a competitor in the race for the Pak Lurah election in

89
 his county. The spirit was wailing and moaning, letting Joko know that it wanted to get out and disappear,
which Joko helped perform as he exorcised the body of the uncle. Jokos wife had been in tears the entire
time outside the bedroom, because she had never actually seen someone possessed by another being let
alone her own beloved uncle. Joko afterwards said pragmatically that this was usual business during such
election periods, except that he was particularly saddened that it had happened to his in-laws family.

While discussing such stories, Agung said he was growing increasingly weary of these arrogant clients
with their threats of sorcery and contemplated moving back to East Java with his family because he regretted the
reputation that he had acquired in Yogyakarta. Comments like these by an assumingly bright and popular dukun
have to be understood in the light of a spiritual conception of merit through selfless service. I found that many,
young dukun excelling at kanuraga techniques, allegedly releasing formidable powers and initially appreciated for
just that quality, were looking to recycle their knowledge for more spiritual aims and follow the path of the wise
mystics who had preceded them on their future ambitions to pursue ilmu kasunyataan, the perfect knowledge.
What these young paranormal realize in fact, is that the art of kanuraga offers one a position of individuality,
since they have discovered that the true power lie in the inner self attuned with the divine cosmos surrounding
them. The temptation to dismiss secular and religious poles of authority becomes very real as this awareness
grows with every supernatural feat upon feat. What this mysticism offers is in fact liberation from the strong
social hierarchy in which every Javanese sees himself as being a part of. Years of New Order Pancasila
indoctrination and erroneously revived royal tatakrama customs have built a weighty culture of collective
subservience to the powers in place55. That feeling of dependency is still there, albeit increasingly eroded by
political and economical turmoil and scandals.
An emerging mystic finds his liberation and independency through the formidable access of invisible
powers which lie there to be controlled. This feeling of superiority can create understandable problems if it
reaches a certain level of arrogance, but more importantly it becomes paradoxical once they have to adjust to
family life as they get married and have children. It is then that the protocol of customs and obligations reaffirms
itself onto the once overconfident mystical adept. What they then find is that they can assume the life of
husband/father (in the case of my male informants) while still remaining a practicing mystical adept, except now
they would have to look for a more spiritual, less supernatural, way to achieve liberation. For this reason, serious
mystics often bring up their ideal of the path to perfect knowledge, Ilmu kasunyataan, which perfectly integrates
mystical endeavours with the social obligations of one living amongst his family and community. I had the
impression that after having followed all of these peculiar characters in their almost routine activities, the destiny
of a righteous dukun eventually pointed in that direction. In a karmic sense, many of my informants looked at
their altruistic services as boons to obtain a certain amount of spiritual merit which would benefit them in the
afterlife, and no longer as unique qualities which somehow stemmed from their powerful self. Agus put it clearly:
To accept that these powers come automaticallyalbeit in different amounts and formswhile one is on
the path to kasunyataan, should be a realization of every person who decides to become a dukun, along
with the other truth by which these powers and visions are a tempting but potentially deceiving deviation
on that path.

55
See Pemberton 1994 for his insights concerning the New Orders use of tradition to reinforce the central power of the state.
90
 Chapter 6: Dukun in the social landscape

6.1 The role of dukun in contemporary Java

When one looks at the role of the dukun in contemporary Java by judging from the backgrounds of
their clients and the reasons why they request a consultation, it becomes readily apparent that these dukun
characters hardly exist in a social vacuum. A close analysis of those two variables seemingly obliterates a false
dichotomy between on the one hand the world of kejawen and mysticism in which most dukun have sought
their powers and esoteric instruction, and on the other hand the world of social reality in which they actually live
their daily lives. Except for some extreme ascetic mystics who are incapable of readjusting to normal society and
prefer to live far away from human dwellings, most dukun are completely integrated in their local communities
and as such influence and are influenced by their social surroundings, in a relative manner, much like most
ordinary citizens who hold a certain degree of power and repect. Most of them actually are only dukun part-time,
as they usually have more secular jobs anyway.
In Java, based on centuries of an abstract but at the same time concrete interaction, it is a fact of life
that almost nobody will regard mysticism (and everything it arbitrarily stands for) as irreconcilable with everyday
social realitywhether this translates into the economical, political or merely sociological sphere. Indeed, unlike
the West where mysticism is usually considered to be too irrational to serve in the solving of secular problems,
mysticism has its place of honour amongst other concepts which structure social life in Java, whether for the
good or bad of the maintenance of harmony inside a given society. Even stronger, for a significant amount of
those Javanese, mysticism (and the cosmological ideas it sustains) is life. Niels Mulder explains how mysticism
has shaped Javanese culture and Javaneseness, especially so since Colonial times and reinforced during each
consecutive period of rapid change. (Mulder 1998:27-9) Subagyo and Koentjaraningrat both conclude that all
mysticism develops as a sign of protest and criticism against present times. (Subagyo 1973, Koentjaraningrat
1985) As such it seen to provide wisdom, individual equilibrium and fulfilment of dependency needs, especially
in times of social stress and turmoil. (Mulder 1998:27) It is because of this general conceptual interpretation that
dukun, as mystical masters, are able to manoeuvre inside their communities to offer alternatives when socio-
economic, political, medical and religious options fail in times of crisis or conflict.
Thus when we look at some recent historical events inside Indonesian society, we see that they had a
direct or indirect correlation with the phenomenon dukun in Java, and for that matter in the rest of the
archipelago. The fall of the Suharto government and the continuing instabilitypolitical and economical that
isin Indonesia has created more problems for Indonesians in terms of finance, family breakdowns, conflicts
and illnesses, producing an air of uncertainty and irrationality as people find it hard to know where to turn for
comfort. As a consequence, it is the irrational powers of dukun that many people turn to when the rational is
threatened; hence the increase in consultations with dukun since 1998. This was confirmed by all of the dukun
which I met during my fieldwork who have always accepted to serve the public since or before that year. In
regards to post-Suharto political and economic instability, authors of literature on Indonesian society, up to 2002,
91
have anticipated its continuation along with the subsequent conflict and violence among social groups in
Indonesia56. These predictions have proved correct up till now and may explain the continuing guarded attitude
of dukun and members of the public concerning the profile of dukun practice in 2003. Furthermore, it may be a
sign that dukun trade will continue to increase, thus also increase the significance of their role in Indonesian
society. Let me explore these arguments through some of the results of the fieldwork.
In the exposition of the four informants above one common element clearly emerged from the
research into their respective activities (and echoed in the experience of other dukun who I met during briefer
periods). It is the fact that they were all extensively solicited for their services by various types of clients from all
levels of society. Indeed, some of them have a clear field of specialization as to what type of service they provide,
but I was given a strong impression that all of them at one point would complain about the unstoppable
frequency of clients visits. This frequency had risen since the effects of the krismon in 1998 started to be felt
across Indonesia, they agreed. It seemed the increase of clients was in general welcomed by them, but on the
condition that it could be personally controlled. Over-exertion of supernatural services is in their minds as
undesirable as exaggerating in esoteric pursuits with spirits; one becomes drained both physically and mentally,
which is a condition far from the mystical ideals of kejawen. Each of them thus had a strategy to lessen the flow
of clients to which they committed themselves. Joko for instance sought to make it as a part-time handicraft
exporter. Agus narrowed his hours of public praktek as a healer through the opening of a school on traditional
healing methods and the composing of a chronicle on fifteenth century mysticism. Agung chose to work in a
University cantina to be less available for clients and even contemplated to move back to East-Java to escape his
growing reputation in Yogyakarta. Sugeng acted like a drifter, and since he was rarely home he guaranteed
himself the ability to choose his commitments on his own terms (though he was partially tied to his duty as a
supernatural advisor and protector to a family in Sewon).
Their role as public dukun was arguably a popular one amongst the masses, not the least because each
of them in their own way upheld the image of the genuine dukun who had gone through the mystical ordeals to
obtain their powers. They had mastered the secrets of metaphysical mysticism which they would readily display
and with which they would eventually produce satisfying results in the eyes of their customers. But even more
importantly, they upheld that image of the genuine dukun of the past because of the altruistic nature of their
services. In my opinion this fact is not to be neglected if we consider the economic hardships with which many
Javanese had to deal with in the past five years. The set retribution for their services was based on a system of
donations, but in monetary terms it would rarely surpass an amount of 30,000 rupiahs (roughly 4$) no matter
what the service involved. This class of dukun apparently represent a continuation of the past dukun (as
presented by Geertz 1960 and Koentjaraningrat 1985), since it can be concluded that the characteristics of dukun
practice have largely remained the same and the essence of traditional Javanese mysticism has firmly been

56
Azra, A., Islam and Christianity in Indonesia: the roots of conflict and hostility in Religion and Culture in Asia Pacific: violence
or healing?, ed J.A. Camilleri, Vista Publications, Melbourne, 2001
Mietzner, M., Abdurrahmans Indonesia: political conflict and institutional crisis in Indonesia Today, eds Grayson J. Lloyd and
Shanon L. Smith, Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, Singapore, 2001.
Bertrand, Romain Indonsie: la dmocratie invisible. Violence, Magie et Politique Java. Editions Karthala, Paris, 2002.

92
retained. However, the role of dukun has evolved, diversified and increased in significance as an aspect of a
changing Javanese culture.
Through the research it was found that not only do dukun exist in Yogyakarta, they are abundant and
thriving in this current period of uncertainty in Indonesia. The role of the dukun in Yogyakarta (and arguably in
the rest of Java) today is still one of significance and in many ways has remained unchanged. However, their
practice has evolved and has been influenced by changing attitudes towards politics, ideology and religion.
Furthermore, recent events, such as the Southeast Asian monetary crisis, the fall of Suharto, and the 1998-2001
murders of suspected dukun santet both in East Java and Central Java, have also had an effect on the role they
play and the way in which they conduct their present day practice. This study suggests that the demand for
dukun services has increased, and as such the significance of their role in Yogyakarta province has increased, yet
so too has suspicion surrounding them. Indeed, the climate of instability and uncertainty in Indonesia has
contributed to socio-political conflicts and mass irrationality, of which the santet murders are but one example.
According to some informants, it has also raised the level of suspicion and fear surrounding dukun, although in
Yogyakarta this is probably less the case than in other regions such as East Java or Jakarta. Paradoxically, it is
argued that this atmosphere of irrationality has caused people to seek help and refuge in the irrational powers of
dukun, hence the increase in demand for their services. Furthermore, as Indonesias instability is predicted to
continue, this may indicate a continuing increase in dukun trade and in the significance of their role in society.
Joko and Agus had their own opinion on the increasing visits they received. They blamed the negative
aspects of the consumer-culture ideology that was spreading so fast amongst the more modern oriented citizens
and especially the younger generations. Urban Yogyakarta was irremediably following the example of larger cities
such as Bandung and Jakarta with the transformation of a whole infrastructure geared towards consumption.
They agreed that it looked like progress, and personally admitted to modestly partake in some of the benefits
modernization had brought. On the other hand, because of this budding ideology filled with excitement and
admiration for foreign or upper modern-class lifestyles, most people forget the inner dimension of their lives and
concentrate too much on the lair (outer) aspects of life. According to them, this is where confusion starts and it
gradually aggravates the frustrations and drawbacks of everyday life. Agus said that happiness is sought in the
wrong places. Dukun, seen by many people to have maintained the connection with the old wisdoms of the
forefathers (and this can be a pretty romanticized view, even in Java), somehow emerge as containers of hope
because they dedicate themselves to the higher truths along a mystical path. People do not always lose their
fortunes or livelihoods in this reckless society; they often lose themselves, because they become forced to
subscribe to new values which are not easily maintainable in Java or Indonesia. The glitter and perfume of
modern life hides a more competitive and unflattering reality of urban slums, unemployed masses, landless
labourers and bored students. When something goes wrong, as it often does in Java, people think the dukun can
resolve the problem, especially when it involves work and money. Agus knew this to be true, because in the past
when kejawen practices were more widespread and people lived according to the Javanese spiritual values, the
need for dukun was far less than today, at least what concerned the pengasihan and pasugihan consultations. In
todays Javanese society, a larger number of dukun are more involved politically and financially than ever before.

93
 6.2 Dukun and Clients

From the previous presentation of individual dukun, we have seen that, as well as healer, a dukun
traditionally fulfils the role of shaman and medium to the spirit world at various rituals, rites and ceremonies.
The dukun can also help solve the problems of clients in many areas of their lives and improve various
situations. It is clear that dukun today still perform most of the specialties of past dukun, something most of
them actually pride themselves in when they name the feats of their gurus, mystical models or ancestors who
transmitted their knowledge to them. Problems of dukun clients that were typical in the past may still exist in the
present but the needs and wants of dukun clients have naturally evolved with time and changing conditions. The
reasons why people consult dukun relate to problems in their personal lives but can also reflect the current
problems in society. Major problems today such as unemployment, loss of social services and food shortages,
have resulted in financial difficulties, relationship breakdowns, poverty, stress, and illnesses. The main problem
areas can be generalised into common themes. These themes were succinctly summarised by Joko who explained
that there are five main areas in which people believe dukun can help: in love matters; business, professional and
career matters; illnesses sometimes believed to be caused by sorcery; social relationships such as disputes and
problems with neighbours, friends or family; and desire for physical strength and invulnerability which could be
summed by the acquisition of supernatural protection.

Welfare

Interviews with clients and observation of activities by Joko, Sugeng, Agung and others found that business,
financial and security issues are major reasons why one seeks the help of a dukun today. This can range from
issues of agricultural production to the good functioning of established or starting enterprises, as well as
guaranteeing success at a job interview or determining the right choice to make in case of a career mutation. All
of these cases were represented in the activities of Joko, as he alternatively would help farmers, young graduates
applying for work and professionals wanting to start a new venture or to decide about a geographical mutation
inside their company. He would perform a combination of divination and pengasihan rituals to get results in these
cases, each of which I witnessed turned out to be positive and bear satisfaction to the specific clients. Besides the
ones already mentioned earlier in the text, a short list of examples can serve here to illustrate this point.

A farmer from the Sentolo area west of Yogya came during the dry season, which was particularly
harsh last year, to ask Joko if he could help him find a place on his property where water would flow
underground and where he could dig a new well. He was terrified of losing his entire crop because his existing
well had totally dried up. Irrigation-water from canals and rivers had stopped coming. Joko went to the eight
square acres field, and after having surveyed it with his right hand palm facing down, he indicated a place where
the farmer should dig. Joko was already home when the latter called him to say they had indeed stumbled upon
an underground pocket of groundwater that no one had ever suspected to find there. He later had a five kg bag

94
of rice sent to Jokos house. One has to understand the disproportionate reliance of poor farmers on a single
crop to appreciate the drama of this case.

Professional clerks or civil servants wanting to be transferred to different branches where they could
be closer to their families or simply make more money. For this latter reason and other job applications, Jakarta
was a favourite destination. But fear of refusal would draw them to consult a dukun first for advice and
eventually a supernatural boost.

Graduate students or other young job-seekers asking for pengasihan to force the success of their
interviews and applications. On one such occasion, a youth landed a job in Japan after a session with Joko.
Whether it is a coincidence or not in case of a positive result, the fact is that many people in such a stressful
situation will consult a dukun to augment the chances of being hired.

Joko and Agung noted that pursuits of business successes or financial wealth through supernatural means may
occasionally engender relational problems such as grudge or jealousy, both with other members of society and
more directly with spirits themselves57. Sometimes people believe sorcery, initiated by a competitor, can be
behind such problems, as is the case of kedudukan where one seeks stability or promotion in their career. Less
common but still widely suspected is the problematic request of pesugihan through the acquisition of wealth-
giving spirits such as thuyul (boyish thieves) and other syetan (demons).

Curing and Health

With most informants, illness by far is another reason to go to a dukun. In many instances though
clients say that if they became ill, depending on the type of disease, they would first go to a doctor to be healed
before consulting a dukun. If the doctors treatment proved unsuccessful or another illness emerged in place of
the original illness, then the informant would seek the help of a dukun.
In contrast to earlier predictions of researchers like Siegel (2001) and Geertz (1960), dukun showed to
still have the power to combat sorcery and many informants testified to this. In some cases, people went directly
to a dukun rather than a doctor. This occurs when clients have symptoms believed to be typical of sorcery, or
considered strange such as disorientation, confusion and fevers, or a bloated stomach. Doctors from the
Bethesda Hospital in Yogyakarta sometimes admitted they couldnt help the patient because they also believed
sorcery to be the cause.
Regardless of sorcery, treatment by a dukun is also cheaper than going to a doctor and often more
convenient, as most of the reputable dukun work on altruistic principles, correlating their selfless service with
their individual mystical pursuits oriented by kejawen or the occasional aliran kebatinan. This may also be a
contributing factor as to why one would go to a dukun rather than a doctor, but in my opinion and based on the
interviews of people, financial consideration is still subordinate to mere confidence in the efficiency of dukun

57
see also Bertrand 2002, 53-72
95
versus the bio-medical sciences. But since we are in Java after all, syncretism in healing paradigms is eminently
possible and dukun are sometimes invited to practice at hospitals if that is what is required by a patient or a
doctor.
Agus took me twice to the Bethesda hospital to go see a client of his who could unfortunately not
leave his berth there.
He was struck by nearly total paraplegia due to the complications of a stroke nearly five months previously. The
patient, an important Indo-Chinese investor under normal circumstances for whom money was not necessarily an
issue, had been unsuccessfully treated by doctors during his first four months in hospital. A Javanese colleague of
the patient suggested during a visit that he should try the services of a dukun since he had nothing to lose. Thus
Agus was put in contact with the patient and treated him twice a week over the course of a month in the hospital
room, with doctors occasionally supervising the process. The treatment, combining acupressure, acupuncture and
prana massage bore off positive results, and the patient was able to move some of his limbs for the first time in
four months. When I asked Agus if the doctors agreed with this rather unconventional approach, he said
confidently that they all knew very well that ordinary medicine was helpless for this type of condition, and
moreover that the senior doctors believed in the powers of dukun as an efficient alternative to their scientific
applications. He told me about other previous instances where he had cured in-patients at hospitals, mostly dealing
with cancer problems or blood clot complications.

Joko had had experience of curing paralysis and stroke complications inside hospitals as well, where he
would actually be solicited by the doctors directly since they found themselves unable to help the patient. More
often, however, the request is done by a relative or close friend of the patient. Sometimes the involvement of a
dukun in such a manner may create conflicts between members of a family about the actual choice of a curing
method for a common relative. People in the same family can be proponents of medical diagnosis and treatment
or, in contrast, of a social cathartic solution. Cythia L. Hunters study on sorcery and science in a Sasak village
(Lombok), which highlights such an observation, reflects my own experience with a family from Godean which
was equally split over the choice of dukun or doctor. (Hunter 2001: 165)

Relational problems

Problems of social and familial relationships are another main area regarding the consultation of dukun. Despite
the admirable tolerance levels of most Indonesians towards each other, conflicts regularly emerge in social
relationships; between friends, family members, neighbours and work colleagues. Dukun are sometimes
consulted in response to such problems and can advise on solutions, as well as help ease the tension, or dispel
the volatility of the situation with a spell or two.
An interesting point of view from a social scientist like Niels Mulder on this crisis of relationships is
appropriate here. Building up his analysis on kejawen mysticism in Java, Mulder notes the paradoxical relation
between the individualizing nature of kebatinan versus the superficial indoctrination of collectivism of the
Pancasila under Suhartos government. As a way to self-realizationkebatinan individualizes, it makes the self
important (whereas) in Pancasila educationautonomous individuals are dangerous to harmony. (Mulder 1998:
128-130) Indonesian individuals are part of the collectivitythey realize themselves in collectivismwhich
96
according to Mulder is a fiction in the case of Javanese culture. He goes on further to denounce the uselessness
of Pancasila doctrine in helping to fight problems of personal or familial relationships and inherent conflict. He
advocates the respect which is attributed to kebatinan to address just these types of problems, both through
observation and through a review of Javanese-authored literature.
In my opinion this point of view is quite justified, as it is easily observable that, for all the material and
productive progress that they have brought, modernization and capitalistic development have also contributed to
the alteration of social and familial bonds inside Javanese society. There is in itself nothing very exceptional in
this observation, since processes of aggressive commoditisation and penetration of markets by free global trade
are known to have such disruptive sociological effects such as cultural estrangement and individualization in
many less-developed agricultural societies, disembedding mechanisms as Giddens calls these processes.
(Giddens 1990: 21) The social problems that may arise become exacerbated however when there is no social or
cultural structure in place to address them in a compromising manner. Since the failure of Suhartos New Order
policies (amongst which arguably the state doctrine of Pancasila) concurrently with the politico-economical
turmoil of the last five years, it is understandably challenging for ordinary Indonesian citizens to learn to assume
the new social conventions that come with aggressive capitalism and commoditisation. It is interesting thus to
note that, in this context, the individualizing nature of kebatinan gains renewed esteem, for it may be seen as a
tool to cope with the present changes that Javanese society is undergoing. If we accept this view, it is also easier
to understand why characters such as dukun, who often profile themselves as champions of kebatinan, are on the
increase or at least why their continuing activities are seen to experience resurgence.
A recurrent problem through my observations in the field concerning this topic was the issue of
inheritance and the recipients of the inheritance. The greed of some family members can create divisions inside
the extended family in regards to heir, especially now that prices for land and property have risen exponentially
in recent years. Joko was often consulted with such complex feuds, and most of the time it concerned the
inheritance of land in the immediate periphery of the city of Yogyakarta, where prices have nearly tripled in the
past four years. A case in Jepara, on the north coast of Java, was memorable in this context.
Joko could hardly refuse to help a close friend, M., whose direct family was being torn apart over a land-feud.
The property, a dry parcel of land unfit for housing or agriculture, but with an important grove of teakwood, had
been heavily contested between Ms father and his paternal uncle. It is undeniable that the proximity of Jeparas
enormous export-furniture plants was a factor in the financially induced ravenousness with which the brothers
had been fighting each other over the inheritance. A court case was ultimately going to decide who the
benefactor was going to be. M., who lived in Yogya but often travelled back and forth between the two places,
was often depressed at the suffering his family was going through. He said his uncle had even ordered a santet on
his own brother and family, upon which his mother nearly died of dementia. Joko had helped the bewitched
woman, and now M. had asked him to alter the course of the court-case to defeat his uncles delusional
prosecution team. Although Joko honestly abhorred the requests for tenun (J. weaving58) or black magic, he had
nevertheless, in his own words, sent a companion spirit to confuse the uncle during his prosecuting arguments.
The next day he received a fax from M. in Jepara thanking him profusely, as they had won the court-case after a

58
Tenun is used to indicate the evil elements forcibly woven into the life of a victim.

97
 disastrous argumentation of his uncle had shattered the latters tightly organized prosecution. The jury had seen
through the lies of his uncle as this one was stumbling to answer the questions of the familys lawyer. But in
addition, seeing his wrong actions had left him a humiliated man, the uncle asked for pardon to his brother,
whereupon the latter, in a very emotional manner, forgave and took him back in the family circle. M. said
everyone had been pleased at this newfound harmony, including troves of neighbours from the village who had
followed the feud over the past months. M. was convinced it had been Jokos help that had made the ultimate
difference.

A less dramatic form of help by dukun in social relationships is the very popular love magic. It is
undeniable that many clients go to dukun to obtain help in finding a partner (jodhoh). Joko was often asked to
offer penghasihan solutions for someone to make him/her attractive to their would-be partner. This can become a
serious business, both literally (with commercial dukun) and figuratively, when grave problems of relations
between couples arise or when middle aged singles are getting dangerously desperate in their quest. Not only
partners are sought but also offspring. Many infertile couples who are unable or are not successful to have
children may come seek the dukuns help for better results. Joko achieved this miraculous feat twice when a
couple who was deemed sterile by medical representatives and doctors got pregnant after he had performed
some special ilmu rituals and massages with the couple. The story of an important General and his wife also
attested to this type of ilmu being applied by Joko.
This research revealed that besides the requested presence of dukun at certain ceremonies, rites and
rituals, the most common reasons for consulting dukun today are for business or money matters and illnesses,
followed by social relationship problems. Basically these problems are typical of modern society, especially in
consideration of the economic and political instability affecting Indonesia today. According to literature dukun
are treated with suspicion and today this is still the case, however, the reasons for such suspicion may have
changed. As people generally differentiate between dukun and dukun santet, another cause for suspicion basically
lies in whether dukun are fakes. Today the public, and most dukun alike, generally believe that a genuine dukun
does not seek to benefit materially from their work and that their motives are purely altruistic. Thus people are
more suspicious of dukun that are materialistically well off. This point leads us to look at the image of dukun in
the media, since it is through the media that some new entrepreneurial dukun may offer their services for
exorbitant (to Yogyakarta standards) prices on a nation-wide scale.

6.3 Dukun in the Indonesian Media.

A most interesting evolution concerning the phenomenon of dukun in Java seems to be the wide
coverage on dukun practices in Javanese and national media. Indeed, in the streets of Yogyakarta, one would
easily be able to gather printed or audiovisual reports on dukun practices, alongside the paraphernalia of mystical
powers and spirits with which these practices arefor right or for wrong reasonsoften identified. The topic of
dukun is to be found in printed articles of specialized and general newspapers and magazines, in stories and
testimonies of people on the radio waves, and in programs on the national television channels. The fact that
there is a relative abundance of specialized pressbut also to a lesser extent more general magazines and
98
newspaperscovering stories involving dukun denotes the fascination of the printed media for these mystical
specialists.
Although my fieldwork purposes did not allow me to find enough time to research this important
topic of media reports and coverage on dukun, I had the chance to meet a few informants who were active in the
propagation of such stories in selected printed media. A more elaborate research could be developed to cover the
topic in more depth, given the right amount of time and with the right connection to the public and private
spheres of the media. It would offer more tangible data to support the hypothesis that the invisible is not only
in in the mediatic sense, but that according to Romain Bertrand(2002) it is also revelatory of a politicizing of
Javanese society which unfortunately often culminates in conflict. If it is right that covering and publishing the
discourse of rumours around supernatural incidents and opinions of dukun and dukun clients is a manifest way
to criticize the violent power of the dominant classes, the merit of such a research would be readily confirmed. I
repeat that I did not have the comfort to analyze this hypothesis as to its suggested validity, as for instance
Romain Bertrand has partially attempted in a book about the language of the invisible in Java59.
A first step would be to dissociate those reports into two categories of media: the specialized media
and the general media. The reason is one of emphasis, as the specialized media of mysticism and its
manifestations clearly covers any report or testimony concerning this topic, whereas the general media only
include reports of this type if it is relevant to their journalistic rubrics and headings. During my research I found
several examples of both but have to add that there is obviously an infinitesimal difference in the sheer quantity
and details of reports when we compare the specialized press to the general one. A difference in approach is also
perceptible if one compares articles on dukun or supernatural occurrences in both types of press, as the first will
be more sympathetic, extraordinarily informed using local jargon and details towards the topic at hand. Whereas
the second will often betray suspicion and distance with the topic, will use less informed language and is keener
to weigh the journalistic value of the testimonies or interviews from dukun or client as to the relevancy to
current news. Another unmistakable element is the more explicit stress on the sensational aspect of these reports
in the specialized printed press and broadcasts.
Nationwide examples of this type of media are amongst others the magazines Wahana Mistis, Gerbang
Mistis, Posmo, Latar and the Supernatural pages of various local newspapers, in Yogyakarta for instance Merpati
Pos and Suara Pagi.
Specialized radio programs which broadcast testimonies of listeners are represented by f.ex. Kota Misteri
from Radio Kota 87.95 FM from Surabaya, the evocative Nightmare Story on radio RIA FM88 in Jakarta or simply
Mistery on radio Bahana 101.95 FM also in Jakarta. On television dukun often are the guest stars of the extremely
popular reality shows Percaya, nggak Percaya on SCNTV and Dunia Lain on Indosiar. In the more general press,
reports and articles involving dukun regularly appear in the magazines Gamma, Tempo and in the newspapers
Kompas, Suara Merdeka, Jakarta Post (in English) and various local newspapers too numerous to name here.
As Romain Bertrand has remarked, since the fall of Suharto and the consequent degree of
liberalization of the media from the states arbitrary censure, the flow of coverage on the practices of the
invincible in Javanese society, politics and economy has dramatically increased judging by the publication of

59
Bertrand, Romain Indonsie: la dmocratie invisible. Violence, Magie et Politique Java. Editions Karthala, Paris, 2002: 30-34

99
articles in newspapers and magazines. The specialized media such as the examples named above are all quite
recent phenomenon but they are going over very well with the Javanese public, hungry for these types of reports.
The proof of this appetite for supernatural stories and those on the practice of dukun in sensational situations is
reflected by the success of the above-mentioned TV shows: Dunia Lain and Percaya Ngak Percaya. In the second
half of 2003, these reality-show formats of broadcasts topped the monthly ratings per program. Fascination with
spirits and astral powers is also reflected by the innumerable TV soap series where these subjects have a
prominent role, the most famous of which is still probably Tuyul dan Mbak Yul on RCTI.
Influential magazines

During my own fieldwork in Yogyakarta I met two correspondents of such specialized press who,
through their work, illuminated me on the mediatic importance of dukun and traditional mysticism in Yogyakarta
and Java. The first one, Pak Supri, was a 50 year old freelance wawancara (lit. interviewer) who worked as a
columnist for various different newspapers and magazines. The main patron of his articlesand the one of
which he was most proudwas the bimonthly magazine Wahana Mistis, published in Surabaya by C.V. Wahana
Mistis Multimedia. The second recipient of his articles was a monthly newspaper named Gerbang Mistis, published
locally in Yogyakarta. Supri, aside from writing articles about metaphysical occurrences and their mystical
signification, was also active as a dukun himself, though he spent much more time as a journalist. His title of
dukun he attributed to the years of mystical training he enjoyed while living and working at the Kraton of Solo,
as he told me he was a member of Pakubuwono X long list of remote descendants. He showed me the special
access identity card to penetrate inside the Kraton of Solo and his official titles and pictures to put weight to this
statement. As a dukun he was especially restricted to Priyayi and court-type slametan and rituals. He would also
occasionally perform pusaka hunting for selected clients and curing for friends and family. His forte in the
acquisition of objects from the alam ghaib seemingly consisted of keris and magically potent pieces of wood and
bamboo. He agreed to the sacredness of pring pathok, pieces of solid bamboo that did not grow in nature but
were allegedly sent by spirits. In Javanese mythological history such special bamboo appears in the hands of
heroes in stories relating the history of the Javanese kingdoms. The most famous one to handle this type of
pusaka was said to be Joko Tingkir, an ancestor of the first king of Mataram Senopati.
During all of our visits to kramatan (ancestor-worship) and ziarah (pilgrimage) places of power and his
own journeys to other places such as magical ponds, graveyards, kraton halls, beaches and mountains, Supri
collected information of esoteric nature from local people, and especially from ones who would be
knowledgeable or practitioners of the mystical ilmu. He told he met a lot of dukun on his trips because they were
usually the best informed about the local places and understood the spirits and powers thought to reside there.
Dukun were always a plus for his journalistic ambitions since they would sometimes even perform certain rites to
prove one or more types of supernatural manifestations on the spot. The information he collected and the
pictures he would take were to be processed into neatly authored columns for the respective magazines and

100
papers with which he was a contributor. He famed himself on his contribution to the Dukun Ki Joko Bodo case
in early 200160.
In unison with Aden, another reporter who Supri knew from working with the paper Gerbang Mistis,
Supri would declare that stories on the supernatural and dukun practices were definitely in nowadays and sold
extremely well. Aden himself was a journalist and mystical practitioner originating from Bandung, but working as
a head redactor for the organisation Yayasan Mappati Suci, which amongst other activities publishes the magazine
Gerbang Mistis. This organisation groups traditional healers and supernatural practitioners from all over Indonesia.
With branches in the main cities of Indonesia, the purpose of the organisation was to recruit members to
establish their profession and beliefs with more strength inside the Indonesian society. The Gerbang mistis paper
was thus also a tool for engaged agency, explaining and defending notions of kejawen mysticism and belief in
metaphysical occurrences along strong kebatinan rhetoric.
Gus Muh, the proclaimed leader of this organisation whose headquarters are located in Yogyakarta
south of the Mandalakrida stadium, is a charismatic prophet of the social benefits of kejawen thinking. Through
him and his team of associates, including Aden, hundreds of mystics and spiritual adepts from all regions of
Indonesia are lured to become members of the organization. At regular seminars held by Gus Muh in Yogya,
well to do professionals are taught how kebatinan, following Gus Muhs teachings, can actually enhance quality
of life and concurrently power in status relations. Through the seminars and the articles in the paper, the
importance of supernatural forces and the astral realm of spirits in the daily lives of Javanese are conveyed to a
larger public. Besides this main activity, which costs the attendant 1 million rupiah per seminar, Gus Muhs
Mappati Suci organisation is funded by donations, sales of magical essences and other trivial objects of power.
They also provide healing and dukun services of all sorts at their main office. The dukun who are active
members of their organisation get an advertising space in the papers, promoting their various services.
Throughout the reading of magazines such as Gerbang Mistis and Wahana Mistis, it is clear there is an
avowed contempt towards dukun palsu, false dukun who are cheating clients with non-existent powers and who
give the paranormal practice a dubious reputation. The advertisements of supposedly honest and powerful
dukun throughout the pages of these magazines point to two facts:

1. That the commercial aspect and modern commoditization of the dukun practice is well
underway, made obvious by these deliberate efforts of public exposure which are almost always include a
reference to an E-mail address or a webpage.

2. That judging by the prices of the advertised services, this commoditization process is targeting a
market composed of well-to-do Indonesians, thus the higher spheres of the population, usually in the
proximity of bigger agglomerations such as Jakarta, Surabaya or Bandung. I have met a dukun from
Sedayu near Gamping who said he invested 25 million rupiahs per monthan immense fortune for the
average Indonesianon advertisement in various publications and audiovisual clips. He boasted that his

60
This was a case that reached national news, when a local dukun from the Jakarta region foiled a car-bomb plot and reported on
supposed terrorist activities by Tommy Suharto (the son of the ex-President) who was sought by the police. see Gamma Nr. 48,
second year, 24-30 January 2001.

101
 clients came from Jakarta and other Jet-set circles, including the ex-interim President Habibie as one of
his more regular clients.

Another facet of the commoditization of dukun practice in Java is powerfully illustrated by the
production of TV shows like Dunia Lain and Percaya Ngak Percaya, which are immensely popular amongst
Indonesian audiences. The figures of dukun are the main protagonists of the various sketches in the reality
shows. They are the ones who hunt spirits in haunted places, heal people or invoke some ancestor ghost to come
to a spot where an attractive-looking person is waiting in fearbut undoubtedly well compensatedall taking
place in front of the watchful eye of the camera. All of the (familiar) ancient and traditional aspects of mysticism
are recuperated and presented in a sensational manner with seducing graphics and plots. The admiration of the
audiences for these figures, some of which are regular actors in the series, is apparent when we see the almost
cult-like status that they acquire in the media or by the E-mailing lists of specific websites where fans (and non-
fans alike) come together to communicate and exchange views. Again, it is unquestionable that the image of the
dukun here lies at the base of an immense circulation of money between production, salaries, advertisements and
returns. This process, which is still young in its maturity, is undeniably representing a conflated image of dukun
and spirituality in the bemused eyes of genuine dukun such as Joko or Agus and their modest aspirations of
mystical perfection. It would be interesting to observe and analyse, in a meticulous ethnographical manner, the
repercussions of such publicity and popularity on the activitiesin terms of demands, types of services and types
of clientsof hundreds of active dukun in the smaller Javanese communities,

102
 Chapter 7: Conclusive remarks

Some conclusions can be drawn on the topic of dukun in the region of Yogyakarta, based on the
observations of, interviews and experiences with selected informants during the fieldwork. Indeed through the
examples of Joko, Agus, Sugeng, Agung and other informants certain facts about contemporary dukun can be
posited.

Considering previous literature on the topic of the Javanese dukun, and especially Clifford Geertz
study from the fifties, a first point would be to say that based on my research kejawen philosophy and kebatinan
practice are still considered fundamental in the instruction of dukun. However, several exceptions in their
practice methods were found and distinct divisions in their various beliefs and ideologies were evident. The
systems of spirit beliefs and the manipulation of invisible forces are intimately integrated in the kejawen
teachings and the understanding of these helps to define the interpretation of these informants regarding their
secular and ritual activities. These activities are ultimately seen, by those informants who are guided by kejawen
philosophy, as moral duties that enter in the logic of their mystical commitment to a future spiritual
enlightenment (kasunyataan).

Problems of dukun clients are of similar nature today as those reported by past authors such as Geertz,
Jordaan and Koentjaraningrat. However consultation with dukun is now sought predominantly in the areas of
business matters, wealth and illness, followed by social relationship problems. These problems in many of the
cases can be seen to reflect the negative effects of todays environmental and societal conditions. As I have
already stated based on my observations from a sample of dukun from the region of Yogyakarta, there is an
increase of practitioners and of clients of these dukun which guarantees the relative continuity of this peculiar
practice inside Javanese society. Although the types of dukun have largely remained the same, we can add the
successful emergence of an explicit commercially oriented trade in dukun services, reflecting the
commoditization of the product and in line with consumption ideology, in contrast with the more traditional
figure of the altruistic dukun. These new dukun entrepreneurs utilize modern strategies to promote their services,
which include modern communications access, media exposure, associations of likeminded colleagues, seminars
and so onAlthough this development is viewed ambiguously by my informants in Yogyakarta, it has an
undeniable impact on the modern perceived image of dukun today.
The role of dukun in traditional rites, rituals and ceremonies, is still one of importance though some
ceremonies have changed in how they are conducted. Rites tend to be more informal and expedient nowadays,
with very pragmatic and practically oriented approaches. But new developments of sociological, economical and
political nature have played an influence on the role of the dukun in present-day society. An erosion of the
traditional cultural values of Javanism is precipitated by a replacement of values along a culture of consumption
ideology, which is especially prevalent in the urban settings. One of the consequences of this, it can be argued, is
103
the general weakened interest towards or the irrelevancy of old-fashionned spiritual discipline for masses of
Javanese. Whether from Sufi or kebatinan origins, these disciplines are left to a restricted number of mystical
specialists, amongst which are dukun.

In cases of dire economic and political periods, however, as we have seen in Indonesia since 1998, the
problems which arise alongside the dynamics of deprivation such as loss of jobs and general wealth, inflation,
unemployment, relational problems can hardly be attended to by a virtually non-existent social security system in
place by a transitory government or by largely disintegrated communities. As many desperate people look to less
rational and more supernatural ways to overcome the various setbacks of the crisis, and also to express their
frustrations, it is the familiar figure of the dukun which emerges for many as a valid social broker. As a result, it
is possible to posit an increase in the significance of their role and credibility in Javanese society, independently
of factors such as the simultaneous rise in orthodox reformist Islam or the general level of scholar education
amongst the Javanese. Furthermore, predictions of continuing trends could see the cultural significance of
Javanese dukun increasing in the future. In Java the village and local discourse of the invisible is not mutually
excluded to a modern and global discourse of development and rationality, in fact in a very Javanese manner of
syncretism, the latter is often seen to be subverted by the former.

In this context, and as Romain Bertrand has posited in his own study, there is possibility for further
research into the arbitrary role of dukun and other specialists of the invisible inside the Javanese but also the
wider Indonesian society, given more time and scope. Many questions are unresolved, although presumptions
exist about the role and influence of dukun at higher echelons of regional and national politics. A more thorough
study in the field of media and the consequent discourse generated around these invisible dynamics and related
actors could prove revealing in understanding the tendencies of how Javanese and Indonesian people and
communities feel about the supernatural, traditions, commoditisation, modernity and intrinsic relations between
each of these.

104
Glossary

Abangan syncretist Muslim

Aji magical formula; mantra
Aliran organized stream of thought; sect
Alus refined; ethereal
Asrama military camp
Batin inner self; spiritual; essence
BATTRA Paguyuban PengoBAT TRAdisional
BKKI Badan Kongres Kebatinan Indonesia
Budaya mind; culture, civilization
Daya energy; aura; mystical influence
Dukun a magical specialist to whom people turn for cures, advice, and
other mystical assistance
Gamelan Javanese percussion orchestra
Guru teacher, often of mystical wisdom
Gusti master, lord (God)
Ilmiah science, knowledge based on mundane perception
Jiwa soul; psyche
Jathilan trance dances in which dancers use masks and hobby horses
Jodho to fit; to be suitable to one another; (syn. Cocok)
Kakuwatan batin mystical strength, spiritual potency
Kalurahan smallest administrative unit in Java; village of several hamlets
Kanuragan mystical training to gain spiritual power, lower level of revelation
Kasar crude; coarse
Kasektn supernatural power; sacred potency
Kasunyataan Truth in religious sense; enlightenment (syn. kasempurnaan)
Kebatinan anything to do with spiritual power and mystical energy
Kejawn the culture of the South Central Javanese principalities
Kyai Muslim teacher, spiritual master
Lair the visible; apparent to the senses; mundane
Laku an ascetic exercise
Latihan (mystical) exercise
Lurah village headman

105
Mandi to be effective or powerful
Nglmu (or ilmu) esoteric knowledge/science
Ngoko low javanese
Pamrih self-interest; desire; envy
Pendopo Javanese ornate performance stage
Penunggu host, resident spirit
Petungan numerological calculations to determine propitious days and times
for important activities
Prewangan spirit medium
Prihatin solicitude
Pusaka sacred/potent heirloom
Rasa intuitive inner feeling; sixth sense
Roh spirit
RT rukun tetangga
Ruwatan (or ngruwatan) a preventative ritual, to stave off mystically caused
misfortune
Samadhi meditation to increase potency
Slamet well-being; harmony
Slametan communal religious meal
Sujud surrendering self to God (syn. Sumarah)
Susuk golden needle w/ magical properties
Tapa austerity; ascetic exercises
Tarkat Muslim mystical brotherhood
Tenaga dalam inner (mystical) power
Wahyu revelation; divine charisma/blessing/legitimation
Wayang shadow theatre
Wedi fear
Wong tuwa an elder; any person thought to have great wisdom or spiritual
power

106
Bibliography

Anderson, Benedict R.OG. The Idea of Power in Javanese Culture (1972) reprinted in Benedict R. OG.
Anderson Language and power: Exploring Political cultures in Indonesia, Cornell University Press, Ithaca 1990

Aragon, L. V. Fields of the Lord: Animism, Christian minorities, and state development in
Indonesia. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press. 2000

Azra, A., Islam and Christianity in Indonesia: the roots of conflict and hostility in Religion and Culture in
Asia Pacific: violence or healing?, ed J.A. Camilleri, Vista Publications, Melbourne, 2001

Barendreght. Bart Written by the Hand of Allah: Pencak Silat of Minangkabau, West Sumatra in van
Zanten and van Roon (eds.) Oideion, The Performing Arts Worldwide 2, Research School CNWS, Leiden,
1995: pp. 113-130.

Beatty, A., Varieties of Javanese Religion: an anthropological account, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge,
1999

Bertrand, Romain Indonsie: la dmocratie invisible. Violence, Magie et Politique Java. Editions Karthala,
Paris, 2002

Brenner, Suzanne Domesticating the Market: History, Culture, and Economy in a Javanese Merchant Community,
Dissertation for the degree of PhD, Cornell University, 1991, printed by University of Michigan
Dissertation Information service 1992

Eliade, M., Shamanism: archaic techniques of ecstasy, Pantheon Books, Penguin Group, 1964

Geertz, C., The Religion of Java, University of Chicago Press, Chicago and London, 1960

Geertz, C., Ritual and Social Change: a Javanese example in The Interpretation of Cultures: selected essays by
Clifford Geertz, Basic Books, New York, 1973

Giddens, Anthony The Consequences of Modernity. Cambridge, Polity Press 1990: 21

Gupta Akhil, Ferguson James, Discipline and Practice: The field as Site, Method and Location. In:
Anthropological Locations. Boundaries and Grounds of a Field Science. Berkeley/London. University of
California Press: 1-45. 1997

Holtzappel, C.J.G Het Verband tussen Desa en Rijksorganisatie in Prekoloniaal Java, Dissertation for the title
of PhD in Social Sciences, Leiden University 1986.

Jordaan, Roy Traditional medicines in Madura. Ph.D. thesis, Leiden: Leiden University Press 1985
Keeler, Ward Father Puppeteer, Dissertation for the degree of PhD, University of Chicago, Illinois June
1982

Keeler, Ward Javanese Shadow plays, Javanese Selves, Princeton University Press, Princeton 1987

Koentjaraningrat, Javanese Culture, Singapore: Oxford University Press, 1985

107
Koentjaraningrat (1985) Javanese Terms for God and Supernatural Beings and the Idea of power, in
A. Ibrahim, S.Siddique and Y.Hussain, eds Readings on Islam in Southeast Asia, Institute of Southeast
Asian Studies, Singapore, 1985 p. 290

Lekkerkerker, C. Enkele opmerkingen over sporen van Shamanisme bij de Madoerezen en Javanen ,
Tijdschrift voor Indische Taal-, Land-, en Volkenkunde Deel XLV, Batavia, Albrecht &Co, 1902

Liddle, William R. Leadership and Culture in Indonesian Politics, Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 1996

Mc Vey, Ruth Building Behemoth: Indonesian Constructions of the Nation-state in Daniel S. Lev and
Ruth Mc Vey, eds. Making Indonesia: Essays on Modern Indonesia in Honor of George McT. Kahin, Southeast
Asia program, Cornell University, NY, 1996

Mietzner, M., Abdurrahmans Indonesia: political conflict and institutional crisis in Indonesia Today, eds
Grayson J. Lloyd and Shannon L. Smith, Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, Singapore, 2001.

Mulder, N. Individual and society in Java: A cultural analysis. Yogyakarta: Gadjah Mada University
Press.1989

Mulder, Niels Inside Indonesian Society. Cultural Change in Java. The Singapore: The Pepin Press 1996

Mulder, Niels Mysticism and everyday life in contemporary Java. Singapore: The Pepin Press. 1998

Nakamura, Mitsuo The crescent arises over the Banyan Tree; a stuy of the Muhamadiyah movement in a central
Javanese town. Yogyakarta: Gadjah Mada University Press, 1983,

Pemberton, John, On the subject of Java. Ithaca and London: Cornell Uiversty Press, 1994

Purwadi, Sejarah Sunan Kalijaga: Sintesis Ajaran Wali Sanga Vs Se Siti Jenar, Persada, Yogyakarta, 2003

Reurink, Marten Dokter of Dukun: De keuze voor medische hulp in Yogyakarta, in Anthropologie: Een
juweel van een vak, edited by Peter Kloos, Van Gorcum, Assen/Maastricht 1992.

Ricklefs, M.C. A History of Modern Indonesia: c. 1300 to the Present. London, Mc Millan, 1981

Robison, Richard The Middle class and the Bourgeoisie in Indonesia in Richard Robison and David
S.G. Goodman, eds. The New Rich in Asia: Mobile phones, Mc Donalds and Middle Class Revolution,
Routledge, London 1996

Samson Susan Berkowitz, Concepts of hot and cold in Javanese folk medicine. MS Thesis, Dept. Of Asian
Studies, UC Berkeley 1974

Siegel, James T., Suharto Witches, Indonesia, issue 71, pp. 27-78, 2001

Tirtokoesoemo, R. Soedjono, De viering van de garebeg Moeloed 1863 in Jogjakarta, Djawa XII,
1932

Turner, Victor Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure. Cornell University Press, Ithaca 1976

Van Hien, H.A. De Javaansche geestenwereld en de betrekking die tusschen de Geesten en de zinnelijke wereld
bestaat. Semarang, Java. G.C. Van Dorp, 1896

108
van Bruinessen, Martin "'Duit, jodoh, dukun': Observations on cultural change among poor migrants to
Bandung", Masyarakat Indonesia jilid XV (1988)

Wilken, G.A. De verspreide geschriften. Collected by Van Ossenbruggen F.D.E.

Semarang, Soerabaja, s-Gravenhage. G.C.T Van Dorp, 1912

Woodward, M.R. Islam in Java. Normative Piety in the Sultanate of Yogyakarta, Tucson, The
University of Arizona Press, 1989

Zoetmulder, P. Pantheisme en Monisme in de Javaansche Soeloek literatuur, Nijmegen, Berkhout 1935

Website resources:

Abdullah, I & Sairin, S Viewing Yogyakarta through Billboard Media , paper presented at International
Academic Forum on Urban Culture organized by the UCRC, Gadjah Mada U, march 29, 2003
www.lit.osaka-cu.ac.jp/UCRC/ data/pdf_03yogyakarta/11_abdullah.pdf

BPS (Badan Pusat Statisik) via the website of the DIY Provincial government:
www.pemda-diy.co.id

Shulte Nordholt, Henk and Abdullah, Irwan, eds. Indonesia: in search of Transition. Multidisciplanry
research programme, Yogyakarta: Pustaka Pelajar (2002) PDF file
www.knaw.nl/Indonesia/transition/workshop/chapter1shultenordholt.pdf

Spyer, Patricia and Arps, Ben Indonesian Mediations: the re-imagining and re-imaging of community(s) in
transitiona position paper. Yogyakarta: Pustaka Pelajar (2002) PDF fie
www.knaw.nl/Indonesia/transition/workshop/chapter8spyer.pdf

Press Articles:

What Religious leaders say about Black Magic The Jakarta Post, 7 January 1996
Police Arrests Seven for Witchcraft Killings The Jakarta Post, 25 February 2000.
Suharto abused Javanese culture to maintain power, Jakarta Post, 6 november 2002.
GAMMA magazine. Kisah Ki Joko Bodo. Nomor 48 Tahun II. 24-30 Januari 2001

109
 The author sharing lunch with various healers, all
members of BATTRA, at their monthly meeting near Bantul.

Pak Agus mixing the ingredients for a jamu remedy.

110
 Pak Monel ritually cleansing the charged masks
after a Jathilan trance performance.

A scene of entranced dancers with pawang (in black)

tending to them. Many pawang double as dukun in everyday life. Sleman district.

Jailangkung doll, sometimes used in divination activities.

111
112