Is Bali Hindu? What an absurd question! As the sole heir of the glorious legacy of the ancient Hindu kingdoms, especially the Majapahit Empire (1293-1520), which ruled supreme for two centuries, why would Bali be anything but Hindu? It is here that the story becomes fuzzy. In this, the first in a series of four essays, it is my intention to give a brief overview of Bali’s unique story. Inspired by Kebalian (2024), a brilliant book by my good friend, French scholar Michel Picard, it is my hope to point readers in the right direction while refuting countless romantic clichés and misrepresentations that often prevent a better understanding of the island and her amazing people.
We begin with a digression: what is Hinduism? While Hindustan was originally a geographical name referring to the lower basin of the Indus River, now mostly located in Pakistan, its derivation, Hinduism, referring to the religions practiced by the people of India, is a western intellectual construct first coined by Englishman Charles Grant in 1787 that quickly caught on as a useful and somewhat arbitrary category into which all the religious practices of the Indians were thrown. Of course, as was usual in the colonial period, nobody bothered to ask the opinion of the Indians themselves. It probably didn’t matter because they perceived themselves as members of specific creeds and traditions. The idea that they were all part of a greater whole only came later with the rise of the Indian national identity.
So, too, the Balinese worshipped for centuries blissfully unaware that they were Hindus. This continued well into the 20th century. Their religion, culture and art were, of course, influenced by Indian precedents, but at its core Balinese religious practices is dominated by ancestor worship and the propitiation of awesome nature spirits, otherwise known as animism. Beliefs that existed long before Indian ideas and practices ever reached the archipelago. This explains the radical differences between the two. For example, Balinese temples have no inner sanctums where statues are worshipped as living gods. They do have temple statues (pratima). Usually carved of wood, few resemble any known Hindu gods. Instead they function as temporary resting places (melinggih) where the ancestral spirits ‘sit’ during temple festivals that return to the heavens after the ceremony is over when they are stored away until the next visit.
On the right: This decidedly tribal-looking sculpture from the archaic Bali Aga village of Sembiran is a reminder of Balinese art before the arrival of the Indic religions.
As explained in my essay, “The Bridge to India” (2014), Hinduism did not arrive to Bali directly from India but rather via Java. There was also no Indian invasion, a false hypothesis promulgated by 19th century European scholars who found it difficult to believe that the charming but indolent people of Indonesia could have built the magnificent temples of Java without outside help. Ironically evidence suggests that it was Indonesians, sailing aboard highly sophisticated oceangoing vessels, who ‘discovered’ India who only then visited the archipelago, they nicknamed Suwarnadwipa, the islands of gold. The ensuing exchange of commodities, ideas, technology and goods enriched both sides with the Indonesians adopting the calendar, the concept of kingship, textile designs and the great Hindu epics, the Ramayana and Mahabharata. While inspired by the originals, the Javanese and Balinese cast them in distinct new forms. The impact of Hinduism was also by no means homogenous. While the princes adopted Indian precedents wholesale, the general populace continued as before with a thin veneer of Hinduism atop indigenous traditions.
Another phenomenon that greatly impacted Bali was the merger of tantric beliefs and animistic exorcistic cults. This reached its peak in East Java after Muslim invaders severed ties with Hindu India and took control of all commerce. Separated from the Hindu-Buddhist motherland, Javanese rulers gradually returned to their roots which had long persisted in the villages. It was Kertanegara, the ruler of the formidable 13th century Singosari Dynasty who declared himself a living god and master of a new unified tantric Hindu-Buddhist cult (Siwa-Boda) after a series of orgiastic rituals and sacrifices. His dreams of invincibility and immortality quickly came to a tragic end after he was murdered by a rival. Nonetheless, his legacy would live on in the form of the Majapahit Empire.
Founded by his son-in-law Raden Wijaya in 1293, this new empire would rise to new glorious heights. In 1343, its legendary prime minister, Gadjah Mada invaded Bali and changed its history forever leaving an indelible imprint on the island, setting the model adopted by the refined courts, many who still claim to be Majapahit descendants, that ruled over the regions that produced abundant rice harvest. The old pre-Hindu beliefs also persisted in isolated pocket regions. Some, like Tenganan, where there is no caste system or cremations, claim to be the original inhabitants of Bali.
As for me, I was first faced with pangs of doubt about Bali being Hindu already in 1976 while attending a grand temple festival in Sukawati. Eager to show off everything I had learned in Hinduism 101, I waded into the crowd to ask one worshipper, who spoke passable English, “To whom are your prayers directed?” expecting to hear one of the names of the Hindu Trinity. Instead, I was met with a blank stare. Embarrassed I blurted out, “Shiva, Vishnu, Brahma?” After a pause my new friend said “Djero Gede”, a name I had never heard in my university course. I would later learn that this was an honorific title, literally the elevated great one, used to refer to a wide range of beings with spiritual power. As for why the ceremony was being performed, the answer was succinct, “Nak mule keto”, Balinese for “because it is always done like this.”
It did not take me long to understand that the Balinese perform rituals, handed down from one generation to another, without question. The purpose, even if not explicitly expressed, is to maintain balance, ward off malevolent forces and propitiate the ancestors to receive their blessings and bounty. They are sacred and obligatory. There is also a hard edge because failure to fulfill this duty can lead to disaster. This reality is quite a bit different from softer and much-evoked noble principle of Tri Hita Karana to achieve a harmonious balance between Man, God and Nature. While many believe that Tri Hita Karana is a sacred Hindu ideal, it was only enunciated in 1966 at a conference in Denpasar whose members were eager to create easily understandable philosophical notions to explain Bali’s highly complex and amorphous belief system. It was by no means a new idea. An early visitor to the island, W.O.J. Nieuwenkamp gushed effusively over Bali’s harmonious way of life and the balance between society, religion, art and nature, which stood out in stark contrast to the smokestacks and injustices of the Industrial Age.
To emphasise the enigma of understanding the island’s religion around which everything revolves, Picard observes “that applying the word ‘religion’ to Balinese ritual practices is deceptive” (2024). An even sharper observation appears in a book by Hildred Geertz, one of the greatest Bali experts, who wrote at the end of her illustrious career: “I do not really know what a ‘temple’ is, what deities are…nor what Balinese ‘religion’ is about…” (2004).
So, is Bali Hindu? Well yes and no for there is no simple answer. Best to remember that all cultures are living, breathing organisms in constant flux and that none are free of conundrums, so it is best to analyse them like dried botanical specimens fixed into boxes. As for us, the aim is to separate fact from fiction, an exceedingly unpopular exercise nowadays. In the next installment we will hear the story of how, when and why a small group of Balinese intellectuals were provoked to attempt to define Balinese identity beginning in the colonial era.
