Mustapha Shamsuddin bin Abdul Rahman, Johor and the making of Malaya, (Kosmo Press: 2000)
If the Grand Tour of ‘77 acknowledged Johor’s international recognition, the Muar War cemented it.
Between the kingdom and the British Straits Settlement of Malacca lies the state of Muar, a disputed country which was established by the deposed ex-sultan of Johor, Ali Iskandar Shah, after his banishment from the capital back in 1855 [1]. Stretching throughout the length of the Muar River, the state was hotly contested between the family and the new Johorean Temenggung rulers, especially over the issue of sovereignty and Chinese Kangchu migration. The fact that Muar was rich in resources yet was so laxly managed by the family – at one point, Ali Iskandar ended up over 43,000 Pounds in debt to Indian moneylenders – did not help matters.
Despite personal animosity between Muar and Johor, the two states kept a sullen peace for the past 25 years. That peace was shattered upon Ali Iskandar’s death in the 10th of September 1880. Sick for months from a bout of malaria, he nonetheless managed to draft a will which stipulated his youngest son from his third wife, the 12-year old Tengku Mahmud, to be the new ruler of Muar, skipping over his other sons from previous marriages. This decision caused uproar and controversy throughout the southern Malay Peninsula, with many warriors and noble families picking sides before Ali Iskandar’s body went cold.
While the succession crisis raged on, the British Resident-Councillor of Malacca requested for Johor’s ruler, Maharajah Abu Bakar, to administer Muar to stabilize the region. Unfortunately, the mere mention of the news reignited the feud between the two royal families and gave the crisis an anti-Johor tint. Before long, several hundred men began assembling under the eldest son, Tengku Alam Shah, who claimed himself as the true ruler of the southern Malay Peninsula. To make good on his words, wooden forts were established across Muar and a rag-tag army was assembled from sympathetic warriors and local villagers [2].
Rare photograph of the pre-modernized Johorean army, circa 1869. Alam Shah's army would have been organized along such lines.
The first strike would be launched by Alam Shah, who wanted to internally purge his state of any dissent. Several villages like Jementah and Segamat declared for Abu Bakar as the rightful ruler, and the opening days of October were full of village burnings as warriors fought locals out on the fields. However, a strike on Segamat on October 12th was repelled by its inhabitants, as was another attack a week later. Across the border, small militias were formed among the villagers and Kangchu settlements as everyone feared a conflict spillover.
Johor Bahru’s response to the crisis showed both how developed the state was under the Temenggong rulers and how much it still needed to develop. A 400-man army was assembled and equipped with British rifles, yet it took until early November before the Johor and Muar armies fought under the shadow of Mount Ophir, as there were no easy roads to travel and river docks were few. The Johoreans won, but not before Alam Shah managed to escape to another fort. With no rural infrastructure beyond dirt roads and telegraph poles only a feature in the extreme south, it would take until late December before he was eventually captured and Muar pacified.
In the aftermath, Abu Bakar decided to annex the entire state of Muar – around 5000 square kilometres – to Johor outright, a decision that was surprisingly accepted by both the neighbouring British and the international emissaries in the capital. Johor had shown itself to stand on its own two feet and has proved itself ably to combat a neighbouring threat. Still, the slowness of the Johorean offensive disturbed the maharajah, who quickly began to speed up development projects throughout the norther reaches of the state.
From building new telegraph lines to instituting a new postal service, Johor during the 1880’s was a kingdom heavily busy on modernising itself. Abu Bakar also encouraged Chinese Kangchu immigration into Muar, hoping the spice-planting Teochew immigrants to dilute the Malay population there. In 1885, a new judiciary system was created and the army was remodelled and modernized along Western lines. Diplomacy was also on the agenda, with Abu Bakar crowning himself sultan on that very year following a royal visit to Queen Victoria at London. In a region where nobles and local rulers were falling prey to the British and Dutch, Abu Bakar’s prestige was more needed than ever.
However, with each new innovation came an equally large pushback. Many Malay conservatives at court chafed under the westernization policies of their ruler, and his love of high living was beginning to strain the royal treasury. More worrying was the influx of Chinese settlers under the Kangchu System to Johor, with population numbers reaching up to 200,000 settlers by 1884. More and more land was needed for them to plant their spice plantations, and it wouldn’t be long before a spark would ignite.
Photograph of a Teochew Kangchu settlement near Johor Bahru, circa 1886.
And ignite it did. In May 1887, several pigs escaped from a Kangchu settlement near Pagoh and ate up several rice paddies at a nearby Malay village. The ensuing confrontation over the damages turned into a fistfight between a Teochew settler and a Malay farmer, ending in the farmer’s death from a broken neck. The Malay villagers quickly rose in anger, ignoring the appeals of the Pagoh arbiter and attacking the Kangchu settlement in the black of night.
At the capital, the court conservatives were disgusted by the violence but, nevertheless, used the tragedy to openly criticize the new sultan Abu Bakar (who was then on a visit to China with most of his supporters) on his Western outlook, attention to immigrants, and extravagant lifestyle. They called for a reduction of his spending, reduced immigration from China, greater connections to the Ottoman Empire, and a greater focus in Islamic thought, usually pointing to the neighbouring court of Riau-Lingga as an example.
Upon returning several months later, Abu Bakar entered to a much more unforgiving homeland. With most of his court and the Malay populace against him, he was forced to swallow his ego and make a few changes. Copying the Ottomans, a central bank was established that shall oversee the finances of the state, royal purse strings were checked by a committee of nobles, Ottoman diplomatic and business connections were encouraged, and educated children were presented with options to study either at London or Kostantiniyye. However, he refused to roll back the Kangchu System, correctly divining that Johor’s spice wealth was the reason for its survival…
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Effendi Latif, The Tumultuous History of Aceh, (Umaria Publishing: 1979)
…By the opening of the 1880’s, Batavia began reassessing their policy of warfare at Aceh.
After almost ten years and with thousands of lives lost, Dutch control was only firm at the capital city, Kutaraja, and along the coasts. Meanwhile, the countryside and backwoods remained at the hands of the Acehnese and their exiled royal court, whom have used the smuggled weapons and supplies from Sultan Abdul Hamid II to devastating effect [3]. Later records would show the origins of the smuggled arms and how it ended up at the hands of the Acehnese but at the time, the Dutch were flummoxed at how the court managed to obtain them.
Thus, a new policy was born. Promulgated throughout the year of 1883, Dutch forces would continue the blockade of the sultanate and control their hold on the coasts. However, they would also enlist the help of local notables, known as the uleebelang, to help fight the war on their behalf. Cash, opium, and weapons were offered to those who agreed with several men even receiving honorary titles by Batavia for their efforts.
It was a failure. Almost all of the local chiefs funnelled their goods to the rebels while any notables who did follow Dutch orders were denounced by village imams, thereby stripping them of moral legitimacy and popular consent. The famous exploits of Teuku Umar and his third wife, Cut Nyak Dhien, became legend during the period as the couple seized infantry supplies, led attack raids, and rallied villages across the sultanate to rise up against the Dutch.
Illustration showing Ottoman and Malay cannons lying in wait for use by coastal smugglers, circa 1882.
Thus, by June 1887 the uleebelang policy was abandoned in favour of scorched earth. Dutch troops would destroy entire villages that aided the cause of the rebels. Any pepper-planter that gave aid to the enemy would have his produce confiscated and his fields burned. Paddy fields were poisoned, entire families from pro-Acehnese villages interned – sometimes for indefinite periods of time – and any captured prisoners be shot without regard to determine who was farmer or raider [4]. The terror and the escalation of the war was so marked and horrendous the Italian Consul to Singapore reflected, “From this, is it really the Dutchmen who are the more civilized?”
International reaction mirrored local outrage. Support for the war grew unpopular in the Netherlands as more and more funds were burned trying to finance the Aceh War. However, it was the reaction of the Ottoman Empire that surprised everybody. Sultan Abdul Hamid II had closely followed the affairs of Sumatra and publicly denounced the actions of Batavia as barbaric on October 1887. Two months later, he demanded the Dutch to leave Aceh lest the Sublime Porte intervene. To many, it seemed to be a bluff: powerful as it was, there was no way Kostantiniyye could help the struggling rebels of Aceh.
That all changed one month later. After a heated discussion with his advisors, Abdul Hamid swallowed his fear and called for the Ottoman Navy to mobilize [5]. As the warships paraded their way down the Bosphorus and Dardanelles, alarms were ringing for the diplomats of the East Indies. Powerful as the DEI was, no one wanted to see if it could withstand the firepower of the world’s third-largest navy. Hoping to stall, Amsterdam and Batavia retorted how Aceh fell under their domain, only to be retorted back that their actions alone are enough to warrant investigation. Seeing the seriousness of the conflict, Great Britain called for a conference, only to be ignored by both Powers.
Photograph of an Acehnese fort in the aftermath of a Dutch takeover. Bodies can still be seen on the ground by the defence walls.
In fact, it was only when the fleet sailed past Ceylon that Batavia finally capitulated. The policy of scorched earth was repealed, the naval blockade around the coast lifted, and troops were ordered to fall back to Kutaraja. The arrival of the Ottoman fleet was marked with jubilation and naval cadets were welcomed to an ecstatic throng by locals at the capital. Seeing the writing on the wall, Batavia called for a conference in Singapore, and in this time the Ottomans accepted.
The subsequent Treaty of Singapore of 1888 reaffirmed the about-turn in world diplomacy: Overseen by Great Britain, Italy, the United States, and the Sultanate of Johor, the Sultanate of Aceh would be a free and independent state under Ottoman protection. Dutch troops are ordered to draw back from the polity, and no hostilities are to erupt for a minimum of 25 years. As an aside, the independence of Johor was reaffirmed and the internal sovereignty of Riau-Lingga ensured with permanent Ottoman Consuls established for all three states [6]. However, there were two stings: The Dutch were allowed to annex the land from the Singkil River southwards; and Batavia was relieved from making any indemnity payments, forcing Aceh to rebuild itself from nothing.
As the paper was signed, the now re-established Acehnese royal court began to take stock of their situation. While their nation held, the land had suffered. The sultanate’s spice economy was wrecked with more than three-quarters of all spice farmers either dead or emigrated, most of whom settling permanently in their new homes at Malaya or Borneo. Entire villages were depopulated and many uleebelang either killed or missing. Despite Ottoman aid, drastic action would be needed to rebuild Aceh. And quickly too; While recognised, there was a deep fear among the court and the people that the Dutch may try to repeat their war in the future.
And so it was that on August 1888, Sultan Alauddin Muhammad Da'ud Syah II of Aceh promulgated a new spice plantation-immigration system, based very much on the Kangchu System of Johor. While this brought a few spice farmers back, it would also bring a much larger flood of Chinese settlers…
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Notes:
1. See post #345.
2. IOTL, Tengku Alam Shah built his forts close to one another which enabled the Johoreans to achieve quick victory. ITTL, this is butterflied away.
3. See post #634.
4. The atrocities descried were based on OTL actions the Dutch used against Aceh. ITTL, the Ottoman supplies allowed for a continuation of war, forcing the Dutch to take even more drastic measures.
5. Sultan Abdul Hamid constrained the Ottoman fleet to near the capital, as he feared a naval assault from the Empire’s enemies should his ships leave.
6. The Riau-Lingga sultanate south of Singapore are under heavy Dutch influence yet still possessing control over internal affairs.
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