Max Havelaar: Or the Auctioning Process of Javanese Sugar Factories, A Dutch-Indonesian TL
- Thread starter Adamar
- Start date
I haven't watched it yet I have to admit. I would need to get into it. Thanks for the link!
2.0 The Pursuit of a "Free" Wingewest
Chapter Two: The Pursuit of a "Free" Wingewest
In the often-quoted words of W. R. van Hoëvell, Max Havelaar “sent a shudder across the land”. Indeed, Multatuli and the authors he inspired swiftly turned public opinion against the outdated relic that was the Cultivation System. After three decades of status quo in the Tweede Kamer, in little over three years two bills were passed and several reforms were enacted to accompany it, and in December 1863 the last batch of sugar cane of the Cultivation System was harvested. What had once been a momentous task became an easy one, in no small part due to the coming to power of a liberal government under J. R. Thorbecke with A. J. Duymaer van Twist as the Minister of Colonies.
Contrary to popular belief, Multatuli was no liberal himself. Writing on the difference between conservative and liberal colonial policy, Multatuli pointed out the difference between the two underlying principles: “one wanted to get as much as possible from India, and the other wanted to get from India as much as possible”. While this still held true in the Smithian Period, even Multatuli himself should be pleased by the new direction of colonial policy set by the Regelingsreglement of 1863. Among others, it held a clear stance against forced labor of any kind in Netherlands India, and guaranteed the rights of private property which had long been denied to its non-European population.
The Smithian Period is often regarded as a period of laissez faire, though it must be admitted that contemporary sources were written by its critics and sufficient amount of data for a balanced analysis was only available long after it had ended. The truth, as often the case, was far more complicated. One would be correct to point out that the Smithian Period was mired in famines, poverty and criminal activity. However horrible the outcomes were, they were symptoms of the sheer amount of stress a society must endure under dramatic changes in such a short period of time. One could even argue that the reported tragedies could partially be attributed to a better practice of data collection and a reintroduction of press freedoms to support the new trend of data-based policy making. It should also be acknowldged that government intervention was a staple of the period, either as a conscious attempt to realize the conditions required by a market economy, or as reactions to events which might threaten the continuation of the Smithian doctrine.
In any case, the Smithian Period should be regarded as an important stage of transition for Netherlands India. In a zealous attempt of privatization, The Hague had also opened their colonial holdings to the outside world. During their reign, the Smithians voluntarily laid down the foundation for industrialization and unwittingly planted the seeds for the eventual decoupling of colony and motherland.
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Imagine that you broke your arm, and you thought, meh, I’m too deep in debt to go to the doctor (I know this would be difficult to imagine for the Euros among you). Then, you decide to take this alternative healing place your boss said was like, “radically chill, bruh, namaste (it means inner peace, I thought you would know considering that you’re, umm...”). You thought that was quite insensitive to your culture, but what the heck, it’s not like you could say no. At first you felt like your chakras were all aligned with the universe (whatever that means), but after a long time telling yourself “this doesn’t hurt that much”, you finally thought that you really need to get proper treatment.
So you went to the doctor, and this guy, well he seemed like the type of guy who bought his way through medical school. You could tell that he’s really into Modern Medicine. You also got the feeling that he didn’t really listen to what you said was the problem, because he was very sure where things hurt and why it was so even before you opened your mouth. But no matter, he probably knows what he’s doing and he seemed like he genuinely wanted to help.
Your bone didn’t heal properly, and the doctor said he would need to break it and set it correctly. Ouch, okay. You stared in horror as he’s not giving you any anaesthetics, either. Then you ask why he’s hitting your arm with a copy of Wealth of Nations or the Mahabharata every five minutes. The doctor said, “not my call, hospital policy. I don’t like it either." He’s not even halfway into breaking your bone when he gets a call from his superiors and left the room.
Then came in a replacement who looks eerily similar to your insurance guy but with a fancy moustache. He said “The old doctor won’t come back. He got in a fight with the hospital manager, then he became the boss for awhile, but he got fired not long after. Besides, we need a solution that is proper for a person of your uhh… of your uhh… of your background.” Before you could complain, he picked up a giant stick painted with sentences in broken Javanese and Arabic, and smashed your arms to bits. He then left you lying there for about thirty years.
You, my friend, are a metaphor for the Dutch East Indies. The inconsiderate but probably well-meaning doctor is Fransen van de Putte, and your insurance guy is Mijer & co. The thirty year wait is your long descent into predatory capitalism
There’s a lot to be said about why the Liberal Period OTL was such a failure, and that’s what this chapter is going to explore and try to prevent. This chapter is modelled in structure after the book by Anne Booth I referenced in subchapter 1.2, as it’s the book that most influences this TL. However, I will also take a lot of queues from J.S. Furnivall’s Netherlands India: A Study of Plural Economy (1939) which, surprising for a colonial administrator of the early 20th century, was quite balanced in its analysis.
Alright then, back to the hospital bed you go.
So you went to the doctor, and this guy, well he seemed like the type of guy who bought his way through medical school. You could tell that he’s really into Modern Medicine. You also got the feeling that he didn’t really listen to what you said was the problem, because he was very sure where things hurt and why it was so even before you opened your mouth. But no matter, he probably knows what he’s doing and he seemed like he genuinely wanted to help.
Your bone didn’t heal properly, and the doctor said he would need to break it and set it correctly. Ouch, okay. You stared in horror as he’s not giving you any anaesthetics, either. Then you ask why he’s hitting your arm with a copy of Wealth of Nations or the Mahabharata every five minutes. The doctor said, “not my call, hospital policy. I don’t like it either." He’s not even halfway into breaking your bone when he gets a call from his superiors and left the room.
Then came in a replacement who looks eerily similar to your insurance guy but with a fancy moustache. He said “The old doctor won’t come back. He got in a fight with the hospital manager, then he became the boss for awhile, but he got fired not long after. Besides, we need a solution that is proper for a person of your uhh… of your uhh… of your background.” Before you could complain, he picked up a giant stick painted with sentences in broken Javanese and Arabic, and smashed your arms to bits. He then left you lying there for about thirty years.
You, my friend, are a metaphor for the Dutch East Indies. The inconsiderate but probably well-meaning doctor is Fransen van de Putte, and your insurance guy is Mijer & co. The thirty year wait is your long descent into predatory capitalism
There’s a lot to be said about why the Liberal Period OTL was such a failure, and that’s what this chapter is going to explore and try to prevent. This chapter is modelled in structure after the book by Anne Booth I referenced in subchapter 1.2, as it’s the book that most influences this TL. However, I will also take a lot of queues from J.S. Furnivall’s Netherlands India: A Study of Plural Economy (1939) which, surprising for a colonial administrator of the early 20th century, was quite balanced in its analysis.
Alright then, back to the hospital bed you go.
Last edited:
2.1 Land, Its Riches, and The Men Who Toil Them
2.1 Land, Its Riches, and The Men Who Toil Them
I. D. Fransen van de Putte arrived in Batavia in April of 1862 with two instructions: to see to it that forced labor was replaced with waged labor, and to prepare Netherlands India and its people for the imminent arrival of European private enterprise. Though Minister of Colonies A. J. Duymaer van Twist had kindly reminded him that discussions for a new Regelingsreglement was underway, Fransen van de Putte correctly assumed that given the influence of his writings, the resulting bill would not stray far from the ideas he had in mind for the betterment of the colonies. It was this very influence which would grant the Governor General a significantly greater degree of autonomy compared to his predecessors, at least in the first few years of his tenure.
As such, the process of liberalization began on day one. In 1862, when the Regelingsreglement of 1863 was still in its early drafts, Fransen van de Putte ended the forced cultivation of two commodities: indigo and tobacco. Such an act was possible in no small part due to the lack of specificity in the previous Regelingsreglement, which neither mandated the use of forced labor nor the types of cash crops to cultivate, for it simply laid down the often ignored conditions where forced cultivation could legally be implemented. Furthermore, Duymaer van Twist found no difficulty in defending these decisions with information already available in the Hague. Indigo, a natural source of blue dye for clothing, had lost its market in the Netherlands with the secession of Belgium where the textile industry was concentrated. Tobacco, on the other hand, was reported in the reply to J. Loudon’s inquiry as an industry where private enterprise had been far more successful than the government. That following year, the latest iteration of the Regelingsreglement underlined the Dutch commitment to prohibit forced labor in all forms. Thus in 1863, the forced cultivation of sugar, tea, cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cochineal were terminated as well.
Indigo plant, cultivated as a source of natural dye
As a general rule, production of these cash crops dropped in 1864. Concerns such as the handover of reporting duties from the NHM to the colonial government aside, this result should come across as trivial. The speed of recovery, on the other hand, had more variation: Production of natural dyes, indigo and cochineal, were almost immediately abandoned, the plants rotting in the field due to the expense of cultivation for the former and unsuitable terrain for the latter, and the near-absence of buyers. Tobacco, in contrast, suffered a slight drop in productivity before proceeding to grow at an exponential rate. Sugar shared a similar fate, albeit with a slight delay corresponding to the time it took to acquire land and set up plantations. In its initial years, existing sugar mills profited from the new freedom of sourcing sugar cane from nearby villages. The remainder of the list would only recover once other Europeans, predominantly British, arrive as investors and buyers.
Observant readers would realize that one important commodity was missing in the earlier list. Forced cultivation of coffee would only be abolished in 1864, though its implementation was far slower. Under the Cultivation System, coffee was the second most profitable cash crop, closely behind sugar. In the span of three decades, the monopoly of the NHM had turned Amsterdam into the coffee capital of the world. As a side effect, there was close to no interest in the setting up of plantations due to the lack of technical knowledge required. Thus, the colonial government resorted to blocking efforts to lease land in the Preanger Regencies, the most productive areas of coffee cultivation, aside from two British tea plantations. For two years coercion continued in the cultivation of coffee, though the metropolitan only gradually became aware of it. Presumably due to public pressure and the promise of great fortune, the president of the Batavia office of the NHM, Nicolaas van Taack Trakranen, resigned in 1866 with several close associates to organize the Javasche Koffie-Unie. Armed with close relationships with the local nobility fostered over the years, this company would command a practical monopoly of coffee in Netherlands India, and a dominance of the world coffee market. Their practices were questionable at best, but on paper their workers were waged and held contracts. The results of these practices would affect the development of the region for decades to come. [1]
To the benefit of the Javasche Koffie-Unie and their cronies, the colonial interests of the Dutch public at the time was occupied by a more immediate problem: famines. The Smithian period was notorious for its famines, especially in the years 1864 and 1865. Dutch newspapers of a humanist or evangelist disposition on colonial policy were quick to seize the moment to further cement the superiority of their respective doctrine. Several of the most damning attacks on the colonial government even accused them of considering it natural, or necessary even, for the Javanese man to starve for the advancement of the interests of his European “so-called friends”. Though the fairness of these accusations were dubious at best, it managed to force Duymaer van Twist to pressure his Governor General with the urgency that a measure, any measure, was taken to at least attempt to alleviate the situation.
Many in the Hague were baffled by this counterintuitive development, as it was expected that natives would “revert” to subsistence-based rice cultivation once freed from their bondage. One factor that should be acknowledged was that crop failures had been rampant since 1860, owing to unfavorable weather which would persist until 1865 [2]. It should also be recognized, as colonial administrators did at the time, that the famines were mostly confined to the northern coastal residencies of Java. Further inland, rice cultivation stagnated but remained self-sustaining, and thus in 1864 resources previously used for the transport of cash crops were utilized to deliver rice to northern markets for sale. When famines resumed the following year, the situation was so dire that much of the colonial budget was allocated to distribute rice to the local populace free of charge. Indeed, these famines occurred not because of a shortage of rice, as there was already enough supply in local bazaars before these measures were taken, but because the poor were simply unable to purchase it.
Rice Cultivation in Samarang Residency, Coastal Java
Unfortunately for the Javanese peasantry, the transition from forced to wage labor was a painful and lengthy process. This was largely due to the fatal misunderstanding Dutch policymakers had of local customs despite their claims of expertise and their promises to respect them. Fransen van de Putte was of the opinion that the uncompromising stance of the Regelingsreglement of 1863 in the abolition of all forms of forced labor was to be implemented immediately. It was well understood that besides forced cultivation, natives were subjected to three other obligations: the heerendienst, for the purpose of public works; the pandjendienst, to the wishes of native lords; and the desadienst, for the villages they call home. However, Fransen van de Putte and many others believed that these were unwritten agreements of a personal nature. This assumption holds true for the Sundanese in West Java and the Madurese of the East. For the majority of the native populace who were ethnic Javanese, however, the reality was far more complicated. In Javanese custom, the last two were intricately connected with the right to occupy and cultivate land. Thus in their good intentions to free the Javanese of their burdens, the Dutch had parted most of them with their livelihoods. Many landlords restricted the use of “communal” lands to their relatives and their cronies, presumably as an act of misplaced anger for the loss of most of their privileges. Though this was not always the case, an indication of its prevalence could be found in the mass migration northward following the abandonment of the passenstelsel, the strict passport system which effectively prevented the populace from leaving their residencies, in January of 1864. [3]
Not only was this development a vital factor of the aforementioned famines, it happened when colonial administrators were frantically trying to solve the problem they have at hand. In fact, the Dutch were only aware of the situation during the introduction of private land ownership in 1866. Taken aback by the size of the land claims of many de facto barons, they found themselves helplessly too late to do anything about it. Many accounts of visitors and coastal residents did notice the sudden expansion of slums in and around the cities. However, they were quick to discount it as a natural result of newly-instituted freedom of movement, and the response was mainly limited to the opening of new land through the burning of teak forests. At any rate, for the first five years the growth of the economy was far too slow to accommodate the influx of immigrants, as it was still stunted by the fact that the local market was still in its infancy. For the time being, many of the unemployed found a temporary source of income through collection of firewood in what was left of the teak forests, a fuel source which was increasingly in high demand.
Despite what their critics might suggest, Smithians had already realized the importance of stimulating a local market alongside the introduction of private enterprise all along. A decade earlier, Duymaer van Twist ended the farming of bazaars during his own tenure as Governor General. However, bazaars had remained a practical monopoly of a small number of Chinese families. This resulted in the continuation of price-gouging both directly and indirectly through hoarding and outright eviction of vendors. Fransen van de Putte, for his part, had initially released an ordinance against these practices in 1863, but its success was severely limited by the inability of the colonial administration to enforce it. In light of the aforementioned famines, the colonial government resorted to a measure as radical as taking over the management of bazaars, which casts further doubts on Fransen van de Putte’s supposed credentials as a proponent of laissez faire. The relocation of the previous subcontractors was not prevented in any way, again partially due to an inability to do so, and new Chinese-run bazaars began to appear elsewhere, but competition with relatively incorrupt government-run bazaars proved to be far more successful in the suppression of price-gouging than any coercive measure would achieve.
In any case, Fransen van de Putte was clearly determined to dismantle Chinese monopoly rights: of slaughterhouses, livestock, native spirits, hand-rolled cigarettes, bird nests, gambling houses, bridge tolls, nipa vinegar, forestry, pawnshops and opium. This is evident in the harsher policies—among others, the unilateral cancellation of outstanding licenses, the introduction of a complicated permit system for gambling houses, and an official ban on opium—enacted in the 1860s. Though this approach might stem from the prevailing support of a hypocritical crusade to “protect the natives from Chinese domination” in the Netherlands, it resulted in a general improvement on the living standards of the Chinese population. Often missed was the fact that the majority of the Chinese population did not enjoy the fruits of these privileges as they were either struggling merchants or hard laborers bonded by illegal debt-peonage. To their benefit, the end of these monopolies were accompanied by other liberalizing reforms which allowed the transition from false economies to artisanship and small industry. These reforms would also benefit the increasingly urbanized native population by depriving them of what had long been the only use of their money: gambling and opium. Later in the decade, once the economic situation began to stabilize and relevant structures were in place, the gradual increase of native purchasing power would translate to a far more sustainable consumer culture and a growth in savings, laying the foundations to the future development of a native middle class in coastal Java. [4]
Port of Tandjong Perak, Soerabaja
For the moment, however, there was a noticeable lack of goods in the markets for consumers of all ethnicities. The Cultivation System had secured Netherlands India for Dutch exploitation, and as an unsurprising result, her ports were helplessly disconnected from global trade routes. Furthermore, trading vessels were discouraged from visiting by the highly protective tariff structure. The tariffs of the time could trace its history to the policy of Thomas Stamford Raffles during the British occupation of Java earlier in the century. The small number of foreign vessels operating in Netherlands India was indeed dominated by the British in no small part due to his policies: British ships were charged a 6% tariff, while those of foreign origin were charged 12%. After their return to Java, the Dutch would keep this structure in a form adjusted to their benefit. These rates were increased throughout the period of the Cultivation System, reaching as high as 25% for cotton and woolen goods of foreign origin. Fransen van de Putte corrected this by first eliminating commodity-based tariff discrimination in 1862, and in an attempt to attract Burmese rice, by abolishing all differential duties in 1864 [5]. The following year an experiment was conducted where Soerabaja was designated as a free port in the mold of Macassar and Singapore for a year, though complaints by NHM and Chinese merchants ensured that the change was not permanent.
This would prove to be the only victory the NHM would achieve in the Smithian period. With Duymaer van Twist and Fransen van de Putte both being businessmen unaffiliated with the company, MPs circling above them like vultures for the personal gains of their own or their constituents, and the effort by its largest shareholder: King William III to improve his image, the NHM found themselves politically isolated for the first time since its inception. As steamboats of other nationalities began to enter Dutch colonial waters en masse, Prince Henry of the Netherlands attempted to salvage what he could by converting the large amount of capital the NHM commanded into a modern merchant marine. The serious case of technical backwardness the NHM suffered at the time meant that he had to resort to renting foreign ships and hiring foreigners as crew, but the Prince’s efforts would reward the company with a chance of a second life in the new liberal economy as a shadow of its former self [6]. There was no doubt, however, that the monopoly was dead, and private enterprise was here to stay.
--
I. D. Fransen van de Putte arrived in Batavia in April of 1862 with two instructions: to see to it that forced labor was replaced with waged labor, and to prepare Netherlands India and its people for the imminent arrival of European private enterprise. Though Minister of Colonies A. J. Duymaer van Twist had kindly reminded him that discussions for a new Regelingsreglement was underway, Fransen van de Putte correctly assumed that given the influence of his writings, the resulting bill would not stray far from the ideas he had in mind for the betterment of the colonies. It was this very influence which would grant the Governor General a significantly greater degree of autonomy compared to his predecessors, at least in the first few years of his tenure.
As such, the process of liberalization began on day one. In 1862, when the Regelingsreglement of 1863 was still in its early drafts, Fransen van de Putte ended the forced cultivation of two commodities: indigo and tobacco. Such an act was possible in no small part due to the lack of specificity in the previous Regelingsreglement, which neither mandated the use of forced labor nor the types of cash crops to cultivate, for it simply laid down the often ignored conditions where forced cultivation could legally be implemented. Furthermore, Duymaer van Twist found no difficulty in defending these decisions with information already available in the Hague. Indigo, a natural source of blue dye for clothing, had lost its market in the Netherlands with the secession of Belgium where the textile industry was concentrated. Tobacco, on the other hand, was reported in the reply to J. Loudon’s inquiry as an industry where private enterprise had been far more successful than the government. That following year, the latest iteration of the Regelingsreglement underlined the Dutch commitment to prohibit forced labor in all forms. Thus in 1863, the forced cultivation of sugar, tea, cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cochineal were terminated as well.
Indigo plant, cultivated as a source of natural dye
As a general rule, production of these cash crops dropped in 1864. Concerns such as the handover of reporting duties from the NHM to the colonial government aside, this result should come across as trivial. The speed of recovery, on the other hand, had more variation: Production of natural dyes, indigo and cochineal, were almost immediately abandoned, the plants rotting in the field due to the expense of cultivation for the former and unsuitable terrain for the latter, and the near-absence of buyers. Tobacco, in contrast, suffered a slight drop in productivity before proceeding to grow at an exponential rate. Sugar shared a similar fate, albeit with a slight delay corresponding to the time it took to acquire land and set up plantations. In its initial years, existing sugar mills profited from the new freedom of sourcing sugar cane from nearby villages. The remainder of the list would only recover once other Europeans, predominantly British, arrive as investors and buyers.
Observant readers would realize that one important commodity was missing in the earlier list. Forced cultivation of coffee would only be abolished in 1864, though its implementation was far slower. Under the Cultivation System, coffee was the second most profitable cash crop, closely behind sugar. In the span of three decades, the monopoly of the NHM had turned Amsterdam into the coffee capital of the world. As a side effect, there was close to no interest in the setting up of plantations due to the lack of technical knowledge required. Thus, the colonial government resorted to blocking efforts to lease land in the Preanger Regencies, the most productive areas of coffee cultivation, aside from two British tea plantations. For two years coercion continued in the cultivation of coffee, though the metropolitan only gradually became aware of it. Presumably due to public pressure and the promise of great fortune, the president of the Batavia office of the NHM, Nicolaas van Taack Trakranen, resigned in 1866 with several close associates to organize the Javasche Koffie-Unie. Armed with close relationships with the local nobility fostered over the years, this company would command a practical monopoly of coffee in Netherlands India, and a dominance of the world coffee market. Their practices were questionable at best, but on paper their workers were waged and held contracts. The results of these practices would affect the development of the region for decades to come. [1]
To the benefit of the Javasche Koffie-Unie and their cronies, the colonial interests of the Dutch public at the time was occupied by a more immediate problem: famines. The Smithian period was notorious for its famines, especially in the years 1864 and 1865. Dutch newspapers of a humanist or evangelist disposition on colonial policy were quick to seize the moment to further cement the superiority of their respective doctrine. Several of the most damning attacks on the colonial government even accused them of considering it natural, or necessary even, for the Javanese man to starve for the advancement of the interests of his European “so-called friends”. Though the fairness of these accusations were dubious at best, it managed to force Duymaer van Twist to pressure his Governor General with the urgency that a measure, any measure, was taken to at least attempt to alleviate the situation.
Many in the Hague were baffled by this counterintuitive development, as it was expected that natives would “revert” to subsistence-based rice cultivation once freed from their bondage. One factor that should be acknowledged was that crop failures had been rampant since 1860, owing to unfavorable weather which would persist until 1865 [2]. It should also be recognized, as colonial administrators did at the time, that the famines were mostly confined to the northern coastal residencies of Java. Further inland, rice cultivation stagnated but remained self-sustaining, and thus in 1864 resources previously used for the transport of cash crops were utilized to deliver rice to northern markets for sale. When famines resumed the following year, the situation was so dire that much of the colonial budget was allocated to distribute rice to the local populace free of charge. Indeed, these famines occurred not because of a shortage of rice, as there was already enough supply in local bazaars before these measures were taken, but because the poor were simply unable to purchase it.
Rice Cultivation in Samarang Residency, Coastal Java
Unfortunately for the Javanese peasantry, the transition from forced to wage labor was a painful and lengthy process. This was largely due to the fatal misunderstanding Dutch policymakers had of local customs despite their claims of expertise and their promises to respect them. Fransen van de Putte was of the opinion that the uncompromising stance of the Regelingsreglement of 1863 in the abolition of all forms of forced labor was to be implemented immediately. It was well understood that besides forced cultivation, natives were subjected to three other obligations: the heerendienst, for the purpose of public works; the pandjendienst, to the wishes of native lords; and the desadienst, for the villages they call home. However, Fransen van de Putte and many others believed that these were unwritten agreements of a personal nature. This assumption holds true for the Sundanese in West Java and the Madurese of the East. For the majority of the native populace who were ethnic Javanese, however, the reality was far more complicated. In Javanese custom, the last two were intricately connected with the right to occupy and cultivate land. Thus in their good intentions to free the Javanese of their burdens, the Dutch had parted most of them with their livelihoods. Many landlords restricted the use of “communal” lands to their relatives and their cronies, presumably as an act of misplaced anger for the loss of most of their privileges. Though this was not always the case, an indication of its prevalence could be found in the mass migration northward following the abandonment of the passenstelsel, the strict passport system which effectively prevented the populace from leaving their residencies, in January of 1864. [3]
Not only was this development a vital factor of the aforementioned famines, it happened when colonial administrators were frantically trying to solve the problem they have at hand. In fact, the Dutch were only aware of the situation during the introduction of private land ownership in 1866. Taken aback by the size of the land claims of many de facto barons, they found themselves helplessly too late to do anything about it. Many accounts of visitors and coastal residents did notice the sudden expansion of slums in and around the cities. However, they were quick to discount it as a natural result of newly-instituted freedom of movement, and the response was mainly limited to the opening of new land through the burning of teak forests. At any rate, for the first five years the growth of the economy was far too slow to accommodate the influx of immigrants, as it was still stunted by the fact that the local market was still in its infancy. For the time being, many of the unemployed found a temporary source of income through collection of firewood in what was left of the teak forests, a fuel source which was increasingly in high demand.
Despite what their critics might suggest, Smithians had already realized the importance of stimulating a local market alongside the introduction of private enterprise all along. A decade earlier, Duymaer van Twist ended the farming of bazaars during his own tenure as Governor General. However, bazaars had remained a practical monopoly of a small number of Chinese families. This resulted in the continuation of price-gouging both directly and indirectly through hoarding and outright eviction of vendors. Fransen van de Putte, for his part, had initially released an ordinance against these practices in 1863, but its success was severely limited by the inability of the colonial administration to enforce it. In light of the aforementioned famines, the colonial government resorted to a measure as radical as taking over the management of bazaars, which casts further doubts on Fransen van de Putte’s supposed credentials as a proponent of laissez faire. The relocation of the previous subcontractors was not prevented in any way, again partially due to an inability to do so, and new Chinese-run bazaars began to appear elsewhere, but competition with relatively incorrupt government-run bazaars proved to be far more successful in the suppression of price-gouging than any coercive measure would achieve.
In any case, Fransen van de Putte was clearly determined to dismantle Chinese monopoly rights: of slaughterhouses, livestock, native spirits, hand-rolled cigarettes, bird nests, gambling houses, bridge tolls, nipa vinegar, forestry, pawnshops and opium. This is evident in the harsher policies—among others, the unilateral cancellation of outstanding licenses, the introduction of a complicated permit system for gambling houses, and an official ban on opium—enacted in the 1860s. Though this approach might stem from the prevailing support of a hypocritical crusade to “protect the natives from Chinese domination” in the Netherlands, it resulted in a general improvement on the living standards of the Chinese population. Often missed was the fact that the majority of the Chinese population did not enjoy the fruits of these privileges as they were either struggling merchants or hard laborers bonded by illegal debt-peonage. To their benefit, the end of these monopolies were accompanied by other liberalizing reforms which allowed the transition from false economies to artisanship and small industry. These reforms would also benefit the increasingly urbanized native population by depriving them of what had long been the only use of their money: gambling and opium. Later in the decade, once the economic situation began to stabilize and relevant structures were in place, the gradual increase of native purchasing power would translate to a far more sustainable consumer culture and a growth in savings, laying the foundations to the future development of a native middle class in coastal Java. [4]
Port of Tandjong Perak, Soerabaja
For the moment, however, there was a noticeable lack of goods in the markets for consumers of all ethnicities. The Cultivation System had secured Netherlands India for Dutch exploitation, and as an unsurprising result, her ports were helplessly disconnected from global trade routes. Furthermore, trading vessels were discouraged from visiting by the highly protective tariff structure. The tariffs of the time could trace its history to the policy of Thomas Stamford Raffles during the British occupation of Java earlier in the century. The small number of foreign vessels operating in Netherlands India was indeed dominated by the British in no small part due to his policies: British ships were charged a 6% tariff, while those of foreign origin were charged 12%. After their return to Java, the Dutch would keep this structure in a form adjusted to their benefit. These rates were increased throughout the period of the Cultivation System, reaching as high as 25% for cotton and woolen goods of foreign origin. Fransen van de Putte corrected this by first eliminating commodity-based tariff discrimination in 1862, and in an attempt to attract Burmese rice, by abolishing all differential duties in 1864 [5]. The following year an experiment was conducted where Soerabaja was designated as a free port in the mold of Macassar and Singapore for a year, though complaints by NHM and Chinese merchants ensured that the change was not permanent.
This would prove to be the only victory the NHM would achieve in the Smithian period. With Duymaer van Twist and Fransen van de Putte both being businessmen unaffiliated with the company, MPs circling above them like vultures for the personal gains of their own or their constituents, and the effort by its largest shareholder: King William III to improve his image, the NHM found themselves politically isolated for the first time since its inception. As steamboats of other nationalities began to enter Dutch colonial waters en masse, Prince Henry of the Netherlands attempted to salvage what he could by converting the large amount of capital the NHM commanded into a modern merchant marine. The serious case of technical backwardness the NHM suffered at the time meant that he had to resort to renting foreign ships and hiring foreigners as crew, but the Prince’s efforts would reward the company with a chance of a second life in the new liberal economy as a shadow of its former self [6]. There was no doubt, however, that the monopoly was dead, and private enterprise was here to stay.
--
Around the same time IOTL, Fransen van de Putte was Minister of Colonies. There were so many variables involved in the Hague which prevented Fransen van de Putte from completely realizing his vision. He attempted to introduce private ownership as mentioned in [3] as part of his Penal Code of 1866, which led to the collapse of the second Thorbecke cabinet and the cancellation of the reforms he instructed that were not yet implemented.
ITTL, with the flaps of the wings of butterflies, Fransen van de Putte is far more influential in the prevailing colonial doctrines which meant that many would trust the ideas he had in mind, and he is instead Governor General, where he could micromanage his reforms to completion and could quickly react to the problems he noticed.
Thus many things which happened in the OTL Liberal Period (reforms which were unannotated) happens quicker ITTL. And if it wasn’t enough there’s plenty of encouragement for him to get to work what with the famines and displacement of population. As a result of the cultivation system ending earlier, the liberal period would start in a period of bad weather conditions. So instead of an unnoticeable reduction in growth due to global market conditions, we have immediate problems such as [2] which demands an immediate reaction, both by Fransen van de Putte and later by politicians in The Hague.
Another thing which happened earlier is the attempt to create a modern merchant marine by Prince Henry as mentioned in [6], which meant that it wasn’t crippled instantly by the sheer volume of competition. The modernization of the merchant marine could stand on both feet and a crutch by the time the Suez Canal opens, and the effects of this can be felt in posts in the near future though it’s probably not obvious. The import of rice happened much earlier too (OTL this would happen in the 1900s), but the famines would allow Fransen van de Putte to put in place a flat tariff structure which he did during his second term as Minister in 1872 IOTL without making large concessions to Dutch manufacturing.
Some things happened completely different too. With the subject of attacks on the Cultivation System being sugar, sugar and sugar, the cultivation of coffee retains a dubious practice (by the way, van Taack Trakranen replaced Mijer as Minister of Colonies IOTL, and not just any minister, he was a conservative who became the first of supposably freedom-loving Ministers of Colonies of the Liberal period).
Other divergences are less bleak. The development of the Chinese middle and capitalist classes remain more or less the same: with the Dutch unwittingly giving them an edge in enterpeneurship in an effort to destroy them. More importantly natives aren’t held back by “reforms” which were “in line with their culture” granted in “good faith” which prevented them from being anything but farmers and indentured laborers for decades. I will give other examples in future posts, but the one example here being the bloody kerfuffle which more or less ended the “communal” ownership of land.
As I’ve explained in another thread in this forum and hinted in the interlude, long ago the villages were organized as mini-republics. A lot of power play was there, so it’s not entirely democratic, but to a degree the leaders were liable to the approval of the people. Raffles gave the first written account of this with a lot of romanticism added. But then he proceeded to shove it into the existing bureaucratic structure he inherited from the VOC, taking away the voice of the people and giving it to the colonial administration and their guns. Then van den Bosch and his disciples gave them the powers of a policeman, a judge and the jury (“let the natives rule themselves on their unwritten accords. Loss of sanity is a crime? Well be my guest!) (No kidding, J.S. Furnivall in the book I referenced in the previous post made a passing mention of very arbitrary laws which were obviously made up on the spot, but the Dutch were only like “Orientals and their weird customs, man.”)
It’s a painful transition ITTL nonetheless, but one that I feel would be required for the purpose of this TL. Think of it and the subsequent introduction of private property TTL Java’s version of the Meiji Land Reform of 1873. Without a guarantee of private property, organic economic growth wouldn’t be possible and—
(Overhears muttering in the audience)
What? No! I’m not a filthy capitalist pig, Susan. And I’m not saying that traditions are inherently bad. This TL is quite Lord Of The Flies, that I have to admit. BUT, the Dutch had always walked over customs and village autonomy whenever they saw fit IOTL anyway. ITTL, maybe, just maybe, though for the wrong reasons, for once their meddling does the right thing at the right time.
ITTL, with the flaps of the wings of butterflies, Fransen van de Putte is far more influential in the prevailing colonial doctrines which meant that many would trust the ideas he had in mind, and he is instead Governor General, where he could micromanage his reforms to completion and could quickly react to the problems he noticed.
Thus many things which happened in the OTL Liberal Period (reforms which were unannotated) happens quicker ITTL. And if it wasn’t enough there’s plenty of encouragement for him to get to work what with the famines and displacement of population. As a result of the cultivation system ending earlier, the liberal period would start in a period of bad weather conditions. So instead of an unnoticeable reduction in growth due to global market conditions, we have immediate problems such as [2] which demands an immediate reaction, both by Fransen van de Putte and later by politicians in The Hague.
Another thing which happened earlier is the attempt to create a modern merchant marine by Prince Henry as mentioned in [6], which meant that it wasn’t crippled instantly by the sheer volume of competition. The modernization of the merchant marine could stand on both feet and a crutch by the time the Suez Canal opens, and the effects of this can be felt in posts in the near future though it’s probably not obvious. The import of rice happened much earlier too (OTL this would happen in the 1900s), but the famines would allow Fransen van de Putte to put in place a flat tariff structure which he did during his second term as Minister in 1872 IOTL without making large concessions to Dutch manufacturing.
Some things happened completely different too. With the subject of attacks on the Cultivation System being sugar, sugar and sugar, the cultivation of coffee retains a dubious practice (by the way, van Taack Trakranen replaced Mijer as Minister of Colonies IOTL, and not just any minister, he was a conservative who became the first of supposably freedom-loving Ministers of Colonies of the Liberal period).
Other divergences are less bleak. The development of the Chinese middle and capitalist classes remain more or less the same: with the Dutch unwittingly giving them an edge in enterpeneurship in an effort to destroy them. More importantly natives aren’t held back by “reforms” which were “in line with their culture” granted in “good faith” which prevented them from being anything but farmers and indentured laborers for decades. I will give other examples in future posts, but the one example here being the bloody kerfuffle which more or less ended the “communal” ownership of land.
As I’ve explained in another thread in this forum and hinted in the interlude, long ago the villages were organized as mini-republics. A lot of power play was there, so it’s not entirely democratic, but to a degree the leaders were liable to the approval of the people. Raffles gave the first written account of this with a lot of romanticism added. But then he proceeded to shove it into the existing bureaucratic structure he inherited from the VOC, taking away the voice of the people and giving it to the colonial administration and their guns. Then van den Bosch and his disciples gave them the powers of a policeman, a judge and the jury (“let the natives rule themselves on their unwritten accords. Loss of sanity is a crime? Well be my guest!) (No kidding, J.S. Furnivall in the book I referenced in the previous post made a passing mention of very arbitrary laws which were obviously made up on the spot, but the Dutch were only like “Orientals and their weird customs, man.”)
It’s a painful transition ITTL nonetheless, but one that I feel would be required for the purpose of this TL. Think of it and the subsequent introduction of private property TTL Java’s version of the Meiji Land Reform of 1873. Without a guarantee of private property, organic economic growth wouldn’t be possible and—
(Overhears muttering in the audience)
What? No! I’m not a filthy capitalist pig, Susan. And I’m not saying that traditions are inherently bad. This TL is quite Lord Of The Flies, that I have to admit. BUT, the Dutch had always walked over customs and village autonomy whenever they saw fit IOTL anyway. ITTL, maybe, just maybe, though for the wrong reasons, for once their meddling does the right thing at the right time.
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BossaNova
Banned
As much as I dislike being *that guy*, but the proper spelling would be "Javaansche Koffie-Unie". Think, "Nederlandsche Handel-Maaschappij". The '-' between 'Unie' and 'Koffie' signifies that it's a union of Javanese coffee, otherwise people might think it signifies a Javanese union of coff- NYAAAARGHH
Sorry. Spelling is my pet peeve.
For realsies. Wish I could say something meaningful but my knowledge of the era is lacking.
No worries. My Dutch is pretty rudimentary at best (not "ik spreek een beetje Nederlands" but "ik spreek mn eigen soort van Nederlands, mattie") and I appreciate this correction a lot.
As for "Javasche" I'm keeping this inline with the "Javasche Bank" of the period. Though I'm not sure, I'm assuming that this spelling was still in fashion in the 1860s. Call me out if I'm horribly wrong, please.
In any case, thanks!
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My first reaction after going through this thread is; 'weeeeeee! Another East Indies TL!' followed by 'Gosh, this is awesome!' I had been thinking about this period and brought it up in discussions again and again with my friends IRL. Obviously, not discussing the effect to such level as this. Thank you Adamar, for this awesome work! I'll be keeping an eye on this one quite closely.
A.M. Hermanadi
A very happy student of Archaeology
A.M. Hermanadi
A very happy student of Archaeology
I agree. The twenties were roaring, too, for Java. Cities were bustling with trade. The Natives, Eurasians, Chinese, and Arabs had a capitalist and an intellectual class. Literacy was on the rise. Long ago the Dutch wanted to copy the methods of British colonial administration, by this time it was the opposite, with people like J. S. Furnivall making comparative studies of the model colony to be implemented in Burma.
That said, the freedom and prosperity of the 20s was fragile, by the late 30s things were completely different. My aim here is to push positive developments earlier while also giving them strong foundations to make them sustainable.
I'll try to post one today. Hopefully. Maybe. You know how Indonesians are with their rubber watches
EDIT: Well IRL came up, so probably not today, sorry
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2.2 Financing A New Economy
2.2 Financing A New Economy
As politicians in the Hague launched relentless attacks towards the Cultivation System in the early 1860s, their capital-owning constituents kept a keen eye on the developments with great enthusiasm. These capitalists were the ones with most to gain from the dismantling of the sugar oligopoly, and the voting laws of the time ensured that their voice was the loudest in the Tweede Kamer. Indeed, the Cultivation System was brought to its sudden demise not in light of the suffering of the Javanese people as documented by Multatuli, but the vast riches promised by the likes of I. D. Fransen van de Putte. Thus, the great majority of the capital invested in the Smithian Period were unsurprisingly directed towards the sugar industry.
Sugar Milling in Java
Owing to the reforms enacted in the 1860s, the number of sugar mills in Java nearly doubled in size, from 95 factories in 1857 to 171 in 1872. Most of these factories were opened after the introduction of private property was completed in 1867. Because of the lack of adequate transportation infrastructure and the policies of the Fransen van de Putte colonial administration, they were mostly confined to the directly-ruled northern residencies of Java.
The period also saw an increase in individual production of the sugar mills, as supported by the modern technology brought to Java by new investors. In an effort to maximize output, investors fully utilized the elimination of import duties on industrial machinery outlined by the Sugar Act of 1861. Out of all machinery imported in 1868, more than 50% were installed in sugar mills, and in 1872, 90% of all steam boilers were used for the concentration of sugar cane juice. Existing sugar mills also took advantage of the Sugar Act to replace their outdated steam plants, as evident in the use of double-effect evaporators in all European-owned sugar mills. Triple-effect evaporation, then a technological marvel, could also be found in several of these factories beginning in 1870. The wave of modernization was sufficiently motivated by the challenge of an uncertain supply of sugarcane from ever-changing sources characteristic of the industry in the period between the abolition of forced cultivation and the introduction of private property. Once European sugarcane plantations became common in the 1870s, technological advancement stagnated as a result. [1] The increase in individual output remained, however, and with the opening of the Suez Canal in 1869 Javanese sugar could easily find its way to European markets. At the end of the Smithian period, sugar accounted for 36% of total value of Netherlands Indian exports and became a significant threat to the Central European beet sugar where much of these technological advances originated.
The massive growth of the sugar industry meant that the industrialization occurring in other agricultural sectors was often overlooked. The cancellation of hand-rolled tobacco monopoly rights held by a few Chinese families was usually followed by the establishment of home industries in the same residency by other Chinese artisans and, in rare cases, members of the native nobility. The first cigarette machine was introduced in Java in 1869, though its production was redirected towards the Dutch market not long after, since it was discovered that European cigarettes of the time did not match the tastes of the local populace.
Chinese artisans also benefited from the opening of Netherlands India to the outside world, as they began to import Indian cotton yarn en masse via Singapore and British Hong Kong. These yarns were weaved into basic cloth which found a ready market among native housewives. The abolition of forced labor had granted native housewives with the gift of free time, and for the first time in decades they were able to make traditional garb of their own. By 1870 some of the more entrepreneurial native nobles had managed to transform the payments they received from leasing large swaths of land into the first instances of the batik and kebaya home industries. However, traditional garb would remain a luxurious good, as cheap British clothing were readily available and better suited for hard labor. Thus, the consumers of these home industries were almost exclusively limited to European families wishing to flaunt their social position in the way they dressed. [2]
Indeed, the Smithian period saw a significant increase in the European population, as young Dutch men arrived with their families to become bureaucrats, clerks, and administrators. Several factories were then established to produce goods required by their different lifestyle. Most noticeable was the sudden demand for western housing, which led to the first two cement factories in Java being founded in Gresik in 1868, and in Serang a year later. The furniture inside were duly provided by Chinese and Indian artisans, benefiting from the lifting of the forestry monopolies and the independent activities of unemployed natives near the teak forests. Two other industries sourcing its raw materials from forests, paper and the printing press, also saw modest growth, in no small part due to the founding of private Dutch newspapers which followed the reintroduction of freedom of the press. In any case, the production of consumer goods in Java was miniscule in comparison, as capital was still very much attracted to the far more lucrative export economy.
It should be clarified that while the influx of capital to Netherlands India was substantial in volume, its availability throughout the Smithian period increased only gradually. In the first few years, capital was only available to plantations and sugar mills, due to the fact that the only source of funds were the cultuurbanken. The term can be misleading, as these institutions performed very little of the functions of a bank besides amassing funds and lending them to would-be plantation owners. The first of these were the NHM, which had been lending money to sugar mills since the introduction of the Culture System. During the Smithian Period, five others would be established with as little capital as 0.5 million Dutch Gulden for the case of the Rotterdamsche Bank. Their activities were made precarious by two factors. First, the cultuurbanken had a habit of forwarding money with very little cash on hand. Second, the fact that these cultuurbanken were exclusively focused in cash crops, and even in the case of the Rotterdamsche Bank only on sugar, made them very dependent on the success of their debtors.
The extent of their success fluctuated heavily before the arrival of European plantations. Independent farmers, numerous as they were, often lacked capital to produce cash crops such as sugar cane. This predicament was clearly reflected in the customs of the ethnic Javanese, from whom Dutch sugar mills and merchants now directly source most of their goods. Javanese farmers, they soon found out, would always demand full payment to be received in advance even before the seeds were planted. Thus instead of purchasing raw goods, sugar mills were forced to make speculative investments with no guarantee of return, especially considering the unfavorable weather of 1860 – 1865. This practice had always been a source of complaint for Europeans, earlier in the century Governor General Herman Willem Daendels issued an ordinance banning them, though the enforcement of this ban had long been ignored since the implementation of the Cultivation System. With the abolition of forced cultivation, the ban was needed once again. Demand for sugar cane remained high, however, thus the colonial administration was convinced that accompanying measures should be taken.
Posthumous Painting of Herman Willem Daendels
Around the same time, the cooperative movement had begun to seep into the Netherlands from neighboring England and Belgium, and the influence of this movement was apparent in the policies of Fransen van de Putte. One of the first government reactions towards the famine of 1864 was to lend rice seeds to farmers in the directly-ruled northern residencies to be returned in ten installments either in rice grain or its equivalent in cash. Once the famines had subsided in 1866, this practice was formalized in the formation of the loemboeng desa, in no small part due to the exaggeration made by Smithians on its role in abating the famines. Nevertheless, it should be understood that rice grain was accepted as a medium of exchange in Java ever since the fall of Majapahit, thus the inception of the loemboeng desa should be acknowledged as the inception of banking in Netherlands India.
The loemboeng desa, however, was far less radical than the introduction of the desabanken in 1867. The recently implemented head tax was from then on augmented by a mandatory deposit of 0.25 florins, which was then pooled and made available as productive credit. Compared to cooperatives in Europe, the desabanken was unique, for better or for worse, in its rather coercive nature. On a positive note, as later European commentators would realize, this also meant that the desabanken would remain characteristically solvent even when western banks were hampered by global economic conditions. In its initial years, however, corruption and mismanagement was unavoidable as the task of running the desabanken was delegated to native landlords, people who were not only uneducated in modern financial practices but had also not long before been relieved of many historical privileges. Complaints began to be common in the years that followed, helped in no small part by the reinstitution of free media. In the end, the colonial administration would resort to a measure normally reserved against Chinese enterprise: by handing over the management to colonial bureaucrats in 1870. [3]
Two years prior, Fransen van de Putte had taken a similar step against the Chinese pawnshop monopoly. Predatory as they were, the farming of pawnshops was only second in profitability to opium, an industry which had earlier been declared illegal. Thus, it should be clarified that the motivation behind this development was profit, not benevolence. At any rate, direct administration increased government income from pawnshops significantly, so much so that relatively clean management was possible. With the introduction of land ownership, native farmers were able to fund their cultivation of cash crops on land they have pledged as collateral. Chinese, Arab and Indian merchants and artisans also benefited, especially those who did not enjoy familial ties with wealthy relatives overseas. The Dutch had always been suspicious of this flow of money. The wealth of Arabs and Muslim Indians, in particular, often ended up in the hands of rebels in the outer islands. Throughout the Smithian period, these merchants were increasingly encouraged to take loans from the afdeelingbanken which were recently founded in the cities. These were public banks created by the need of European immigrants to save the money they earned in Netherlands India. [4]
Later in the decade, Dutch banks would face great competition from British counterparts. The first of these was the Chartered Bank of India, Australia and China, which opened an office in Batavia in 1868. Three others followed after the opening of the Suez Canal: the Oriental Bank Corporation; the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank; and the Mercantile Bank of India and China. In contrast to the Dutch cultuurbanken, British banks operated conventional banking along conservative lines. On the surface, cultuurbanken appeared to have higher liquidity, and thus became the preferred source of capital of Dutch entrepreneurs. However, the broad variety of activities that the British banks were willing to fund, as well as their command of better security, meant that they were favored by plantation owners of other nationalities and nearly all industrialists. Indeed, in the two and a half centuries since the Dutch established the world’s first stock exchange, the British had developed far superior financial practices. After three decades of isolation, with its first wave of industrialization Netherlands India took its first step towards interconnectedness with the global British economy. [5]
For the first half of the Smithian period, however, any financial institution would find itself severely impeded by the curious case of the Netherlands Indian monetary system. In theory, the Netherlands Indies Florin used the silver standard as mandated by the Regelingsreglement of 1854. For forty years before that, the copper duit was minted alongside the silver-backed currency. This outdated version of the bimetallic system persisted for so long not because of its success, but because of the profit-seeking motivation of the Javasche Bank, the central bank of Netherlands India. The minting of copper duits was so profitable, in fact, that counterfeiting became rampant as a side effect. A single company based in Birmingham sent NIf. 160,000 on a monthly basis in the 1840s, and when the copper duit was removed from circulation an additional NIf. 7.5 million fakes were returned. When the contract of the Javasche Bank was only temporarily extended in 1857 as a warning, they found that while they have accumulated a profit of 15 million Dutch Gulden, their questionable practices resulted in a loss of Ng. 20 million.
Counterfeiting was not the only cause of an unaccountable money supply. Ever since the return of Java from the British, the metropolitan Dutch Gulden was also legal tender in the colonies. The Tweede Kamer decided, as written in the Regelingsreglement of 1863, to keep the monetary status quo for ease of investment. The lack of a formal currency exchange in Netherlands India thus caused the mobilization from the motherland to the colony of not just capital, but physical money as well. It was common practice for debtors of the cultuurbanken to simply ship the funds they have received to the colonies. At the same time, immigrants to Netherlands India often brought along their personal savings in hand to cover their initial living expenses. Furthermore, the first of the British banks, the Chartered Bank, initially provided loans in Dutch Gulden, given the riskiness of the alternative. The significant drain of the money supply naturally translated to a deflationary cycle. Though its effects on Dutch industry was rather inconspicuous, far more recognizable was the increase in interest rates which quickly became a burden to the indebted capitalist and bourgeoisie. The latter received much publicity from the scandalous attempt of the man with the largest debt in the Netherlands, King William III, to absolve himself of his problems, which very nearly dragged the nation into a conflict between Great Powers in 1867.
Specimen of the Five Netherlands India Gulden Banknote
Thus the monetary situation was finally addressed in the Netherlands India Currency Act of 1868 [6]. The Act reaffirmed the silver standard used in the form of the new Netherlands India Gulden, at a fixed exchange rate of 1 Ng. = 1.2 NIg., and decisively ended the legality of the Dutch Gulden in the colonies. The following year, exchange offices were opened in all branches of the Javasche Bank and in 1870, the new contract for the Javasche Bank would grant it a larger amount of capital to adjust for economic growth. The act would only alleviate the deflation suffered by the Dutch economy, however, stopping short of solving the problem as other factors were still in play. For Netherlands India, the act removed the final obstacle for foreign direct investment. As an unintended consequence, the gradual decline of silver prices brought great benefits in the following years. As an undisputably export-oriented economy, it ensured that goods remained competitive in foreign markets, and it made Netherlands India very attractive for British investors and their gold-backed liquid assets. Thenceforth, it was only a matter of how the colonial administration could capitalize on the resulting growth.
--
As politicians in the Hague launched relentless attacks towards the Cultivation System in the early 1860s, their capital-owning constituents kept a keen eye on the developments with great enthusiasm. These capitalists were the ones with most to gain from the dismantling of the sugar oligopoly, and the voting laws of the time ensured that their voice was the loudest in the Tweede Kamer. Indeed, the Cultivation System was brought to its sudden demise not in light of the suffering of the Javanese people as documented by Multatuli, but the vast riches promised by the likes of I. D. Fransen van de Putte. Thus, the great majority of the capital invested in the Smithian Period were unsurprisingly directed towards the sugar industry.
Sugar Milling in Java
Owing to the reforms enacted in the 1860s, the number of sugar mills in Java nearly doubled in size, from 95 factories in 1857 to 171 in 1872. Most of these factories were opened after the introduction of private property was completed in 1867. Because of the lack of adequate transportation infrastructure and the policies of the Fransen van de Putte colonial administration, they were mostly confined to the directly-ruled northern residencies of Java.
The period also saw an increase in individual production of the sugar mills, as supported by the modern technology brought to Java by new investors. In an effort to maximize output, investors fully utilized the elimination of import duties on industrial machinery outlined by the Sugar Act of 1861. Out of all machinery imported in 1868, more than 50% were installed in sugar mills, and in 1872, 90% of all steam boilers were used for the concentration of sugar cane juice. Existing sugar mills also took advantage of the Sugar Act to replace their outdated steam plants, as evident in the use of double-effect evaporators in all European-owned sugar mills. Triple-effect evaporation, then a technological marvel, could also be found in several of these factories beginning in 1870. The wave of modernization was sufficiently motivated by the challenge of an uncertain supply of sugarcane from ever-changing sources characteristic of the industry in the period between the abolition of forced cultivation and the introduction of private property. Once European sugarcane plantations became common in the 1870s, technological advancement stagnated as a result. [1] The increase in individual output remained, however, and with the opening of the Suez Canal in 1869 Javanese sugar could easily find its way to European markets. At the end of the Smithian period, sugar accounted for 36% of total value of Netherlands Indian exports and became a significant threat to the Central European beet sugar where much of these technological advances originated.
The massive growth of the sugar industry meant that the industrialization occurring in other agricultural sectors was often overlooked. The cancellation of hand-rolled tobacco monopoly rights held by a few Chinese families was usually followed by the establishment of home industries in the same residency by other Chinese artisans and, in rare cases, members of the native nobility. The first cigarette machine was introduced in Java in 1869, though its production was redirected towards the Dutch market not long after, since it was discovered that European cigarettes of the time did not match the tastes of the local populace.
Chinese artisans also benefited from the opening of Netherlands India to the outside world, as they began to import Indian cotton yarn en masse via Singapore and British Hong Kong. These yarns were weaved into basic cloth which found a ready market among native housewives. The abolition of forced labor had granted native housewives with the gift of free time, and for the first time in decades they were able to make traditional garb of their own. By 1870 some of the more entrepreneurial native nobles had managed to transform the payments they received from leasing large swaths of land into the first instances of the batik and kebaya home industries. However, traditional garb would remain a luxurious good, as cheap British clothing were readily available and better suited for hard labor. Thus, the consumers of these home industries were almost exclusively limited to European families wishing to flaunt their social position in the way they dressed. [2]
Indeed, the Smithian period saw a significant increase in the European population, as young Dutch men arrived with their families to become bureaucrats, clerks, and administrators. Several factories were then established to produce goods required by their different lifestyle. Most noticeable was the sudden demand for western housing, which led to the first two cement factories in Java being founded in Gresik in 1868, and in Serang a year later. The furniture inside were duly provided by Chinese and Indian artisans, benefiting from the lifting of the forestry monopolies and the independent activities of unemployed natives near the teak forests. Two other industries sourcing its raw materials from forests, paper and the printing press, also saw modest growth, in no small part due to the founding of private Dutch newspapers which followed the reintroduction of freedom of the press. In any case, the production of consumer goods in Java was miniscule in comparison, as capital was still very much attracted to the far more lucrative export economy.
It should be clarified that while the influx of capital to Netherlands India was substantial in volume, its availability throughout the Smithian period increased only gradually. In the first few years, capital was only available to plantations and sugar mills, due to the fact that the only source of funds were the cultuurbanken. The term can be misleading, as these institutions performed very little of the functions of a bank besides amassing funds and lending them to would-be plantation owners. The first of these were the NHM, which had been lending money to sugar mills since the introduction of the Culture System. During the Smithian Period, five others would be established with as little capital as 0.5 million Dutch Gulden for the case of the Rotterdamsche Bank. Their activities were made precarious by two factors. First, the cultuurbanken had a habit of forwarding money with very little cash on hand. Second, the fact that these cultuurbanken were exclusively focused in cash crops, and even in the case of the Rotterdamsche Bank only on sugar, made them very dependent on the success of their debtors.
The extent of their success fluctuated heavily before the arrival of European plantations. Independent farmers, numerous as they were, often lacked capital to produce cash crops such as sugar cane. This predicament was clearly reflected in the customs of the ethnic Javanese, from whom Dutch sugar mills and merchants now directly source most of their goods. Javanese farmers, they soon found out, would always demand full payment to be received in advance even before the seeds were planted. Thus instead of purchasing raw goods, sugar mills were forced to make speculative investments with no guarantee of return, especially considering the unfavorable weather of 1860 – 1865. This practice had always been a source of complaint for Europeans, earlier in the century Governor General Herman Willem Daendels issued an ordinance banning them, though the enforcement of this ban had long been ignored since the implementation of the Cultivation System. With the abolition of forced cultivation, the ban was needed once again. Demand for sugar cane remained high, however, thus the colonial administration was convinced that accompanying measures should be taken.
Posthumous Painting of Herman Willem Daendels
Around the same time, the cooperative movement had begun to seep into the Netherlands from neighboring England and Belgium, and the influence of this movement was apparent in the policies of Fransen van de Putte. One of the first government reactions towards the famine of 1864 was to lend rice seeds to farmers in the directly-ruled northern residencies to be returned in ten installments either in rice grain or its equivalent in cash. Once the famines had subsided in 1866, this practice was formalized in the formation of the loemboeng desa, in no small part due to the exaggeration made by Smithians on its role in abating the famines. Nevertheless, it should be understood that rice grain was accepted as a medium of exchange in Java ever since the fall of Majapahit, thus the inception of the loemboeng desa should be acknowledged as the inception of banking in Netherlands India.
The loemboeng desa, however, was far less radical than the introduction of the desabanken in 1867. The recently implemented head tax was from then on augmented by a mandatory deposit of 0.25 florins, which was then pooled and made available as productive credit. Compared to cooperatives in Europe, the desabanken was unique, for better or for worse, in its rather coercive nature. On a positive note, as later European commentators would realize, this also meant that the desabanken would remain characteristically solvent even when western banks were hampered by global economic conditions. In its initial years, however, corruption and mismanagement was unavoidable as the task of running the desabanken was delegated to native landlords, people who were not only uneducated in modern financial practices but had also not long before been relieved of many historical privileges. Complaints began to be common in the years that followed, helped in no small part by the reinstitution of free media. In the end, the colonial administration would resort to a measure normally reserved against Chinese enterprise: by handing over the management to colonial bureaucrats in 1870. [3]
Two years prior, Fransen van de Putte had taken a similar step against the Chinese pawnshop monopoly. Predatory as they were, the farming of pawnshops was only second in profitability to opium, an industry which had earlier been declared illegal. Thus, it should be clarified that the motivation behind this development was profit, not benevolence. At any rate, direct administration increased government income from pawnshops significantly, so much so that relatively clean management was possible. With the introduction of land ownership, native farmers were able to fund their cultivation of cash crops on land they have pledged as collateral. Chinese, Arab and Indian merchants and artisans also benefited, especially those who did not enjoy familial ties with wealthy relatives overseas. The Dutch had always been suspicious of this flow of money. The wealth of Arabs and Muslim Indians, in particular, often ended up in the hands of rebels in the outer islands. Throughout the Smithian period, these merchants were increasingly encouraged to take loans from the afdeelingbanken which were recently founded in the cities. These were public banks created by the need of European immigrants to save the money they earned in Netherlands India. [4]
Later in the decade, Dutch banks would face great competition from British counterparts. The first of these was the Chartered Bank of India, Australia and China, which opened an office in Batavia in 1868. Three others followed after the opening of the Suez Canal: the Oriental Bank Corporation; the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank; and the Mercantile Bank of India and China. In contrast to the Dutch cultuurbanken, British banks operated conventional banking along conservative lines. On the surface, cultuurbanken appeared to have higher liquidity, and thus became the preferred source of capital of Dutch entrepreneurs. However, the broad variety of activities that the British banks were willing to fund, as well as their command of better security, meant that they were favored by plantation owners of other nationalities and nearly all industrialists. Indeed, in the two and a half centuries since the Dutch established the world’s first stock exchange, the British had developed far superior financial practices. After three decades of isolation, with its first wave of industrialization Netherlands India took its first step towards interconnectedness with the global British economy. [5]
For the first half of the Smithian period, however, any financial institution would find itself severely impeded by the curious case of the Netherlands Indian monetary system. In theory, the Netherlands Indies Florin used the silver standard as mandated by the Regelingsreglement of 1854. For forty years before that, the copper duit was minted alongside the silver-backed currency. This outdated version of the bimetallic system persisted for so long not because of its success, but because of the profit-seeking motivation of the Javasche Bank, the central bank of Netherlands India. The minting of copper duits was so profitable, in fact, that counterfeiting became rampant as a side effect. A single company based in Birmingham sent NIf. 160,000 on a monthly basis in the 1840s, and when the copper duit was removed from circulation an additional NIf. 7.5 million fakes were returned. When the contract of the Javasche Bank was only temporarily extended in 1857 as a warning, they found that while they have accumulated a profit of 15 million Dutch Gulden, their questionable practices resulted in a loss of Ng. 20 million.
Counterfeiting was not the only cause of an unaccountable money supply. Ever since the return of Java from the British, the metropolitan Dutch Gulden was also legal tender in the colonies. The Tweede Kamer decided, as written in the Regelingsreglement of 1863, to keep the monetary status quo for ease of investment. The lack of a formal currency exchange in Netherlands India thus caused the mobilization from the motherland to the colony of not just capital, but physical money as well. It was common practice for debtors of the cultuurbanken to simply ship the funds they have received to the colonies. At the same time, immigrants to Netherlands India often brought along their personal savings in hand to cover their initial living expenses. Furthermore, the first of the British banks, the Chartered Bank, initially provided loans in Dutch Gulden, given the riskiness of the alternative. The significant drain of the money supply naturally translated to a deflationary cycle. Though its effects on Dutch industry was rather inconspicuous, far more recognizable was the increase in interest rates which quickly became a burden to the indebted capitalist and bourgeoisie. The latter received much publicity from the scandalous attempt of the man with the largest debt in the Netherlands, King William III, to absolve himself of his problems, which very nearly dragged the nation into a conflict between Great Powers in 1867.
Specimen of the Five Netherlands India Gulden Banknote
Thus the monetary situation was finally addressed in the Netherlands India Currency Act of 1868 [6]. The Act reaffirmed the silver standard used in the form of the new Netherlands India Gulden, at a fixed exchange rate of 1 Ng. = 1.2 NIg., and decisively ended the legality of the Dutch Gulden in the colonies. The following year, exchange offices were opened in all branches of the Javasche Bank and in 1870, the new contract for the Javasche Bank would grant it a larger amount of capital to adjust for economic growth. The act would only alleviate the deflation suffered by the Dutch economy, however, stopping short of solving the problem as other factors were still in play. For Netherlands India, the act removed the final obstacle for foreign direct investment. As an unintended consequence, the gradual decline of silver prices brought great benefits in the following years. As an undisputably export-oriented economy, it ensured that goods remained competitive in foreign markets, and it made Netherlands India very attractive for British investors and their gold-backed liquid assets. Thenceforth, it was only a matter of how the colonial administration could capitalize on the resulting growth.
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Shoutout to the finance or economics majors of this forum, whaddup? Haha. Slaves of corporate [insert country here]. Jk. I’m one, too. Help a brother out if any job openings come up, will ya?
So the question I asked myself was basically: WI the Liberal period was shrunk down to a fun-sized version of itself? Sure, total growth would be less, in the end. However, there are two things to consider since ITTL it starts almost a decade earlier: it doesn’t happen concurrently with the Long Depression, and the Suez Canal was opened while it unraveled. Annual growth, I argue, would be greater overall.
First things first, the sugar industry. The expansion of plantations and mills, and the technological advances are adjusted from data compiled by Farid Ruskanda and Isa Ridwan in Java Sugar Industry and Sugar Cane Engineering in Nineteenth Century (2013). Besides the larger interest among the Dutch in the sugar industry, ITTL the process of leasing land is easier, too, so that helps out a lot.
The textile industry as in [2] would still be modest, of course, and I doubt that it would ever be successful given British competition. However, there's still one difference. Instead of Chinese merchants sourcing cloth from China and turning them into traditional garb, here we have more Chinese artisans weaving the cloth at home and selling them to natives. So the two groups would be more evenly matched in that department. By the way Raffles mentioned that the people of Java was better dressed than those in India. That’s all changed though, forced cultivation meant that everyone had to work, so the serfs resorted to buying British clothing.
The quasi-cooperative of [3] were IOTL introduced during the Ethical Period, by people who ITTL would be classified as Smithians. Education is often regarded as to why the natives (well those who could afford it at least) were so prosperous in the 1920s, so the development of a modern financial system was often overlooked. ITTL’s Smithian Period is way way less Laissez Faire than IOTL’s Liberal System, so it makes sense for it to appear sooner. And again, the famines would encourage them to start with the lumbung desa.
The afdeelingbanken mentioned in [4] is different than OTL. IOTL it started out as a bank for nobles and native bureaucrats (well most native bureaucrats were lesser nobles so forgive the redundancy). ITTL it’s founded by Fransen van de Putte, a person who, just like Multatuli, had a strong negative opinion of the local nobility. Thus there are more middle-class Europeans than IOTL and the banks were created for them. I’ll elaborate some more on that in the next update.
As for the British banks in [5], I’ve taken the liberty to add the Oriental Bank to the list. IOTL the economy was only truly opened in the 1880s, thanks to pressure from conservative colonial specialists (a dying breed IOTL, dead ITTL). By then the Oriental Bank was already struggling. ITTL, though, there’s nothing stopping them from jumping the bandwagon.
Finally, the comedic monetary shenanigans of Netherlands India ended almost a decade earlier with the act mentioned in [6]. IOTL, the drain of physical money between 1873 and 1877 didn’t hurt, because it was balanced by the inflation caused by the Long Depression. Monetary reform was only enacted in 1877, and that was to clean things up after the Netherlands switched to the gold standard in 1875. ITTL they’ll probably make the change to gold at some point, but for the time being sticking to silver would unwittingly achieve the same effect as deliberate devaluation.
If you enjoyed this update in particular because financial history is your thing, I recommend Changing Financial Landscapes in India and Indonesia (1997) by Heiko Schrader, though I haven’t finished reading it myself. Part of the reason for the delay of this update is because I had to consult this book about things I wasn’t sure of. Maybe I’ll find some time to read the rest.
Alright then, in the next update we’ll take a look on the administration. After that we’ll leave Java for a bit to realize that hey, there are actually other islands in this region. Again, let’s hope that I can stick to a schedule.
So the question I asked myself was basically: WI the Liberal period was shrunk down to a fun-sized version of itself? Sure, total growth would be less, in the end. However, there are two things to consider since ITTL it starts almost a decade earlier: it doesn’t happen concurrently with the Long Depression, and the Suez Canal was opened while it unraveled. Annual growth, I argue, would be greater overall.
First things first, the sugar industry. The expansion of plantations and mills, and the technological advances are adjusted from data compiled by Farid Ruskanda and Isa Ridwan in Java Sugar Industry and Sugar Cane Engineering in Nineteenth Century (2013). Besides the larger interest among the Dutch in the sugar industry, ITTL the process of leasing land is easier, too, so that helps out a lot.
The textile industry as in [2] would still be modest, of course, and I doubt that it would ever be successful given British competition. However, there's still one difference. Instead of Chinese merchants sourcing cloth from China and turning them into traditional garb, here we have more Chinese artisans weaving the cloth at home and selling them to natives. So the two groups would be more evenly matched in that department. By the way Raffles mentioned that the people of Java was better dressed than those in India. That’s all changed though, forced cultivation meant that everyone had to work, so the serfs resorted to buying British clothing.
The quasi-cooperative of [3] were IOTL introduced during the Ethical Period, by people who ITTL would be classified as Smithians. Education is often regarded as to why the natives (well those who could afford it at least) were so prosperous in the 1920s, so the development of a modern financial system was often overlooked. ITTL’s Smithian Period is way way less Laissez Faire than IOTL’s Liberal System, so it makes sense for it to appear sooner. And again, the famines would encourage them to start with the lumbung desa.
The afdeelingbanken mentioned in [4] is different than OTL. IOTL it started out as a bank for nobles and native bureaucrats (well most native bureaucrats were lesser nobles so forgive the redundancy). ITTL it’s founded by Fransen van de Putte, a person who, just like Multatuli, had a strong negative opinion of the local nobility. Thus there are more middle-class Europeans than IOTL and the banks were created for them. I’ll elaborate some more on that in the next update.
As for the British banks in [5], I’ve taken the liberty to add the Oriental Bank to the list. IOTL the economy was only truly opened in the 1880s, thanks to pressure from conservative colonial specialists (a dying breed IOTL, dead ITTL). By then the Oriental Bank was already struggling. ITTL, though, there’s nothing stopping them from jumping the bandwagon.
Finally, the comedic monetary shenanigans of Netherlands India ended almost a decade earlier with the act mentioned in [6]. IOTL, the drain of physical money between 1873 and 1877 didn’t hurt, because it was balanced by the inflation caused by the Long Depression. Monetary reform was only enacted in 1877, and that was to clean things up after the Netherlands switched to the gold standard in 1875. ITTL they’ll probably make the change to gold at some point, but for the time being sticking to silver would unwittingly achieve the same effect as deliberate devaluation.
If you enjoyed this update in particular because financial history is your thing, I recommend Changing Financial Landscapes in India and Indonesia (1997) by Heiko Schrader, though I haven’t finished reading it myself. Part of the reason for the delay of this update is because I had to consult this book about things I wasn’t sure of. Maybe I’ll find some time to read the rest.
Alright then, in the next update we’ll take a look on the administration. After that we’ll leave Java for a bit to realize that hey, there are actually other islands in this region. Again, let’s hope that I can stick to a schedule.
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Which one? There were two as far as the DEI was concerned. All I can say is, yes, the DEI would probably be better equiped for the less explosive one. The other one, though, would depend on who's in charge
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Additional Notes: Administrative Divisions in Java, 1862
Additional Notes: Administrative Divisions in Java, 1862
Administrative Divisions in Java, 1862
Standard Hierarchy of Administration in Java
The highest administrative position below the Governor General is the resident, equivalent in rank to a Javanese duke. One level below the residents were regents, then a wedana, and finally a village head. Major cities had appointed mayors, which were almost always Dutch bureaucrats.
Divisions under Direct Dutch Rule
These residencies were directly ruled by Dutch Residents. Lower divisions maybe ruled directly as well, especially in major cities and ports. However, most districts and all villages were ruled by native bureaucrats under Dutch "supervision". Native bureaucrats, even those holding hereditary titles, were ambtenaren paid by the colonial government and as such must follow orders from their superiors.
1. Batavia - de jure capital of Netherlands India
2. Buitenzorg - seat of the colonial government
3. Krawang (Af.) - an afdeeling, or district. An underpopulated area previously not under the jurisdiction of native nobles. As such, it retained the lower designation of afdeeling, while still reporting directly to the Governor General.
4. Cheribon
5. Tagal
6. Pekalongan
7. Samarang
8. Japara
9. Rembang
10. Soerabaja
Divisions Indirectly Ruled through Native Feudal Lords
Hereditary feudal lands. Divisions ruled by nobles with a rank equivalent of a duke were designated as residencies. However, areas of note (e.g. those with a significantly higher population or those with significant amount of European economic activity), may be separated from their historical liege by the colonial government. These regions would still be ruled by hereditary feudal lords, however they were designated as assistant-residenties (AR) corresponding to the lower rank of the feudal lord. Special cases were the Preanger Regentschappen (12) and Madoera (23), due to the fact that at some point in history these were directly ruled by the Dutch. All of these lords were paid ambtenaren supervised by Dutch assistant-residents and/or controlleurs. Furthermore, native lords did not have jurisdiction over the non-native population. Urban districts were usually administered by Dutch bureaucrats.
Successor states of the Sultanate of Mataram after its dissolution as according to the Treaty of Giyanti (1755). The colonial government respected the rulers of these states as autocrats of the native population. Non-native populations, on the other hand, were subjects of Netherlands India. Considering the exceptional fertility of the soil of these states, as well as their potential for stirring discontent among the ethnic Javanese, the autonomy of these rulers were in the process of gradual decline. These two states had vassals of their own (the Mangkunegaran Princedom in particular, held half of the Soerakartan territory), but in theory, the colonial administration only corresponded with the Sultan and the Soenan.
Ever since the VOC era, the colonial administration pursued a policy of racial segregation in Netherlands India. Peoples which were classified as "Foreign Orientals" (Dutch: Vreemde Oosterlingen) with significant population in a certain area were assigned a ruler of their own. These populations were: the Chinese, ruled by a Kapitan Tjina; the Arabs, ruled by a Kapitan Arab; and South Asians, ruled by a Kapitan Keling. These rulers held significant autonomy in theory. However, unlike native rulers, the colonial administration held the right to appoint and dismiss them. As a result, these positions were occupied by men who were loyal to the Dutch and were often hereditary in practice.
Furthermore, Foreign Orientals were subjected to a complicated permit system, which restricted them from leaving their respective ghettoes unless bribery was involved. These ghettoes could be found in all major cities and most northern coastal towns.
Europeans and Eurasians in the Administration
In 1842, King William II of the Netherlands opened the Royal Academy of Delft for the purpose of training civil servants in Netherlands India. Thenceforth, all non-native bureaucrats must hold a diploma from said academy. This decision practically closed the bureaucracy from Europeans and Eurasians born in Netherlands India and Europeans of other nationalities. Indeed, the "Delft Monopoly" was the major cause of the 1848 European-Eurasian Batavia protests led by W. R. van Hoëvell.
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EDIT: added a section on Europeans and Eurasians.
Administrative Divisions in Java, 1862
The highest administrative position below the Governor General is the resident, equivalent in rank to a Javanese duke. One level below the residents were regents, then a wedana, and finally a village head. Major cities had appointed mayors, which were almost always Dutch bureaucrats.
Divisions under Direct Dutch Rule
These residencies were directly ruled by Dutch Residents. Lower divisions maybe ruled directly as well, especially in major cities and ports. However, most districts and all villages were ruled by native bureaucrats under Dutch "supervision". Native bureaucrats, even those holding hereditary titles, were ambtenaren paid by the colonial government and as such must follow orders from their superiors.
1. Batavia - de jure capital of Netherlands India
2. Buitenzorg - seat of the colonial government
3. Krawang (Af.) - an afdeeling, or district. An underpopulated area previously not under the jurisdiction of native nobles. As such, it retained the lower designation of afdeeling, while still reporting directly to the Governor General.
4. Cheribon
5. Tagal
6. Pekalongan
7. Samarang
8. Japara
9. Rembang
10. Soerabaja
Divisions Indirectly Ruled through Native Feudal Lords
Hereditary feudal lands. Divisions ruled by nobles with a rank equivalent of a duke were designated as residencies. However, areas of note (e.g. those with a significantly higher population or those with significant amount of European economic activity), may be separated from their historical liege by the colonial government. These regions would still be ruled by hereditary feudal lords, however they were designated as assistant-residenties (AR) corresponding to the lower rank of the feudal lord. Special cases were the Preanger Regentschappen (12) and Madoera (23), due to the fact that at some point in history these were directly ruled by the Dutch. All of these lords were paid ambtenaren supervised by Dutch assistant-residents and/or controlleurs. Furthermore, native lords did not have jurisdiction over the non-native population. Urban districts were usually administered by Dutch bureaucrats.
11. Banten
12. Preanger Regentschappen - a collection of Sundanese regencies historically under the Sultanates of Banten and Cheribon grouped into a single division under a native resident.
13. Banjoemas
14. Bagelen
15. Kedoe
16. Patjitan (AR)
17. Madioen
18. Kediri
19. Pasoeroean (AR)
20. Probolingo
21. Bezoeki
22. Banjoewangi (AR)
23. Madoera - a collection of Madurese regencies and the directly ruled district of Pamekasan grouped into a single division under a native resident.
Princely State Vassals (Vorstenlanden)12. Preanger Regentschappen - a collection of Sundanese regencies historically under the Sultanates of Banten and Cheribon grouped into a single division under a native resident.
13. Banjoemas
14. Bagelen
15. Kedoe
16. Patjitan (AR)
17. Madioen
18. Kediri
19. Pasoeroean (AR)
20. Probolingo
21. Bezoeki
22. Banjoewangi (AR)
23. Madoera - a collection of Madurese regencies and the directly ruled district of Pamekasan grouped into a single division under a native resident.
Successor states of the Sultanate of Mataram after its dissolution as according to the Treaty of Giyanti (1755). The colonial government respected the rulers of these states as autocrats of the native population. Non-native populations, on the other hand, were subjects of Netherlands India. Considering the exceptional fertility of the soil of these states, as well as their potential for stirring discontent among the ethnic Javanese, the autonomy of these rulers were in the process of gradual decline. These two states had vassals of their own (the Mangkunegaran Princedom in particular, held half of the Soerakartan territory), but in theory, the colonial administration only corresponded with the Sultan and the Soenan.
24. Sultanate of Djockdjakarta
25. Sunanate of Soerakarta
Foreign Orientals25. Sunanate of Soerakarta
Ever since the VOC era, the colonial administration pursued a policy of racial segregation in Netherlands India. Peoples which were classified as "Foreign Orientals" (Dutch: Vreemde Oosterlingen) with significant population in a certain area were assigned a ruler of their own. These populations were: the Chinese, ruled by a Kapitan Tjina; the Arabs, ruled by a Kapitan Arab; and South Asians, ruled by a Kapitan Keling. These rulers held significant autonomy in theory. However, unlike native rulers, the colonial administration held the right to appoint and dismiss them. As a result, these positions were occupied by men who were loyal to the Dutch and were often hereditary in practice.
Furthermore, Foreign Orientals were subjected to a complicated permit system, which restricted them from leaving their respective ghettoes unless bribery was involved. These ghettoes could be found in all major cities and most northern coastal towns.
Europeans and Eurasians in the Administration
In 1842, King William II of the Netherlands opened the Royal Academy of Delft for the purpose of training civil servants in Netherlands India. Thenceforth, all non-native bureaucrats must hold a diploma from said academy. This decision practically closed the bureaucracy from Europeans and Eurasians born in Netherlands India and Europeans of other nationalities. Indeed, the "Delft Monopoly" was the major cause of the 1848 European-Eurasian Batavia protests led by W. R. van Hoëvell.
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In the process of writing the next update focusing on the administrative policies of the Smithian period, I noticed that explaining how things were took a lot of space. Also, this TL was completely devoid of maps! So here you go. This isn't a full update, but I guess this would be useful.
EDIT: added a section on Europeans and Eurasians.
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