What has been Bali’s secret to upholding its culture? How have traditions remained relevant in the modern era? Whilst some may credit strict customary laws and guidelines, it may in fact be thanks to the opposite: an inherent adaptability and tolerance to change that has helped the culture to gradually evolve and ultimately thrive.
As modern Bali continues to undergo rapid changes —a subject of much social contention among residents— it is interesting to review the many transformations the island has endured throughout its eventful history, both ancient and modern. A millennium of Bali’s ‘culture of adaptation’ has made it the island it is today. Understanding this history, albeit summarised briefly here, helps to provide perspective to the inevitable changes Bali is currently, and forever will be, subject to.
The First Immigrants
From rice farming to ritual, and so much of what we consider today as Bali’s eternal and enduring elements, are themselves ‘imports’ to the island. A thousand year-long history of maritime trade, immigration and invasion have influenced even the most core aspects of today’s Balinese culture.
Rewind a thousand years and we find ourselves with a relatively blank slate. It begins with the great migration of Austronesian peoples from mainland Asia, who settled across the Pacific Islands, as far as Madagascar and New Zealand, and of course South East Asia, including Indonesia.
They brought with them the seeds of civilisation, introducing iron and bronze tools as well as early rice cultivation to the Indonesian archipelago. The best evidence of these early settlers in Bali is the Moon of Pejeng, a bronze kettle-drum (the world’s largest) dating back at least 2,000 years. The drum is attributed to the Dong Son culture era of ancient Vietnam, further evidence of the regional migrations of the original Austronesians. It remains a sacred centre-piece in a historic temple in Gianyar, Pura Penataran Sasih.
Animism Evolves
Animism was the main belief system of the original settlers. The maritime trade of the time saw the mixing of cultures, eventually introducing Bali to Mahayana Buddhism in the 7th century, and Hinduism followed suit through a slow and gradual influence from neighbouring Java.
Without a direct connection to the source of these religions, elements were instead superimposed upon the indigenous belief systems, creating a syncretic blend of religion and animism. With ideologies trickling in haphazardly, Bali became separated by nine religious sects, each with their own istadewata, or main deity— Shaivism, Vaishnavism, Brahmana, the Buddhist-leaning Bodhisattva, Pacupata, etc.
A Unified Bali
Balidwipamandala, the period term for the island, literally translated as ‘Bali-land-network’ (Pringle, 2004), falls under its first absolute monarchy in the 9th century. This marks the beginning of the Ancient Bali Era under the reign of the Warmadewa Dynasty. Centred in Bedulu the dynasty was responsible for much cultural development, including the holy spring, Tirta Empul, and the elephant cave temple, Goa Gajah. Archaeological remnants, like ‘stupikas’, linga-yoni figures, and Boddhisattvas carvings show a Buddhist-Hindu following.
The Birth of Agama Tirta
In the 11th century, the holy sage Mpu Kuturan was called forth from Java by King Udayana Warmadewa and Queen Gunaprya Dharmapatni (Mahendradatta), looking to solve the discord between the nine sects.
Mpu Kuturan’s arrival was pivotal. During ‘The Great Assembly’ (Paruman Bata Anyar) at Pura Samuan Tiga, he summoned all nine sects. He unified them under one religious framework, what would be known as Agama Tirta (the religion of water), emphasising purification through holy water. He also introduced the concept of Trimurti, a way to honour the three major deities: Brahma, Wisnu and Siwa. Out of this came the establishment of the ‘Kahyangan Tiga’ (three places of worship), a temple for each deity in every village: Pura Desa (village temple) for Brahma, Pura Puseh (centre temple) for Wisnu and Pura Dalem (death temple) for Siwa. This way, each sect was appeased, and these frameworks became the basis for Bali’s belief system to this day.
Chinese Acculturation
The next pivotal evolution came during the reign of King Jayapangus, seeing the acculturation of Chinese influences into Bali.
During the 11th century, trade between China and Bali flourished. Though in use since the 7th century, Chinese coins, known as kepeng or pis bolong, became a common currency, and are still used today as parts of Balinese ritual, a necessity for offerings.
The fabled (and somewhat legendary) marriage of King Jayapangus and a Chinese merchant’s daughter, Kang Cing Wie cemented this bilateral relationship. The two figures would later be immortalised as the Barong Landung, a pair of puppets depicted as the dark-faced Jero Gede (King Jayapangus) and fair-skinned, narrow-eyed Jero Luh (Kang Cing Wie). The puppets have become pratima, or sacred effigies, worn and paraded during important cleansing rituals, joining the pantheon of Bali’s many religious vessels.
Though its official origins are still debated, Bali’s majestic lion figure of good, the Barong Ket, is said to be influenced by Chinese barong sai. This mythical character thus captures three elements of influence: the animistic traditions of the supernatural animal guardian, the Balinese-Hindu philosophy of rwabhineda (coexistence of opposites), and the Chinese-influenced form as a two-person puppet.
The Arts Arrive
The next evolution comes in 1343, when the Javanese-Hindu Majapahit Empire invade and announce sovereignty over Bali. A new era is ushered, bringing us another step closer to the Bali of today.
Major influences were the arrival of the royal courts, and with them caste structures of the priestly (Brahmin), princely (Ksatria), merchant (Vaisya) and labour (sudra) classes. Further to that, the courts brought the arts with them, introducing painting (kamasan) the puppet theatre (wayang), music (gamelan) and dances. These transformed Balinese society forever, birthing Bali’s artisan communities and artistic heritage that exist to this day.
Bali’s visual aesthetic changed as well, as the Majapahit rulers brought with them architectural styles that would shape the designs and materials of temples, shifting from the rock-cut shrines of the Warmadewa era to the red-brick structures that typified East Javan temple architecture. A great example of this is Pura Maospahit, a 13th-century temple located in Pemecutan, Denpasar.
Colonialism
By the time the Dutch first arrived in 1597, the Majapahit Kingdom had fallen, replaced by the Gelgel Kingdom, which then broke up into nine separate kingdoms. As such, the major changes in Bali were very much political rather than cultural. Of course, colonial interests in Indonesia changed the nature of trade and connection to the outside world, seeing pockets of power ebb and flow.
After centuries of indifference, the Dutch finally invaded Bali in 1908, taking authoritative control over the island and undermining royal rule. Surviving royal courts had to succumb to cooperation, starting new forms of cultural exchange with the outside world. This resulted in some softer cultural changes amongst elite members of society, with traditional attire adjusting for Western styles, as well as some interesting architectural fusions. Great examples include the Puris (royal compounds) built during the colonial era, especially in the Dutch-Bali capital of Singaraja, or the Taman Ujung Water Palace in Amlapura.
The Artist’s Paradise and A New Renaissance
The Dutch foothold of Bali began a new wave of visitors. Trade was no longer the only reason for arrival as administrators and officials made their way to the island. This included the Dutch artist W. O. J. Nieuwenkamp, one of the first Europeans to ‘visit’ Bali, arriving in the aftermath of the invasion in 1908. His artistic works and reportage, as well as the photographs of German doctor Gregor Krause, began a wave of interest in Bali abroad.
In the wake of World War I, artists were lured to the Far East and visions of a peaceful exotica, welcoming the likes of Walter Spies and Miguel Covarrubias, Rudolf Bonnet, Adrien-Jean Le Mayeur, Arie Smit and Willem G. Hofker. Their artistic depictions of idyllic island life would add to Bali’s mystique, but more importantly, their presence and influence (especially of Spies) on the already gifted Balinese saw a renaissance in art. This ignited the birth of the Pita Maha art association, and the development of distinct Balinese artistic styles: Ubud, Batuan, Sanur, Young Artist and Keliki.
Bali to the World
It became apparent to the Balinese, especially the educated royals, that their culture was of specific interest to the outside world. Walter Spies worked with Balinese dancer I Wayan Limbak to create a brand new dance, the Kecak, inspired by the sacred sanghyang dances.
The kecak was performed on an international stage for the first time during the 1931 Paris Colonial Exposition. This marked the first time the dance was performed for a global audience, presenting Balinese art and culture live to the Western world.
New Rules of Independence
When Indonesia gained its independence in 1945, new ideas of national identity would cause cultural ripples across the archipelago.
A major adjustment for Bali was the requirement to justify its own religion under Indonesia’s new founding principles, or Pancasila. The first of the five principles, ‘Ketuhanan yang Maha Esa’ (Belief in the One and Only God) emphasised Indonesia’s foundation on monotheism. As a result, Agama Tirta, with its polytheistic approach, needed reform. To address this, Balinese scholars and leaders reinterpreted their theology, emphasizing that all deities in Hinduism are manifestations of a single, supreme divine entity, Sang Hyang Widi Wasa. This saw a shift in Balinese religion towards a more organised, scholarly and in some ways dogmatic approach to what was previously more a fabric of life itself. Yet nationhood also created a sense of ‘minority’, as the only Hindu majority region of a Muslim Indonesia.
Modernism, Tourism… Pragmatism
Whilst today people often perceive modern change in Bali as a sort of ‘invasion’, a disturbance of the peace of a previously idyllic island, the Balinese have in fact embraced the changes, adapted and made it work for them.
Tourism has impacted culture in many ways. There was much debate over the ‘commercialisation’ of the arts, for example: putting the sacred Barong dance on stage for mere entertainment, or selling Balinese masks as souvenirs. Over time, realising that culture is indeed its most unique aspect, the Balinese ‘desacralised’ and re-contextualised, separating ‘stage’ and ‘sacred’ performances. Even the ‘Bali Aga’ (Ancient Bali) villages of Tenganan and Trunyan have had to accustom and embrace tourism, in order to perpetuate their way of life.
The advent of modern living in general led to some interesting, albeit mundane, shifts in culture. For example, as the Balinese began regular working hours, the daily offerings were frequently bought rather made by hand. The advent of personal vehicles changed the accessibility of visits to far-off temples, and indeed access to different sources of ‘tirta’, holy water, democratising its availability. Direct travel to and from India has also seen scholars visiting the ‘source’ of Hinduism directly, which has had its reverberations.
The best reference for these modern shifts is described in the book ‘Bali, 50 Years of Changes: A Conversation with Jean Couteau’ (Eric Buvelot, 2022), which outlines the socio-cultural evolutions that Bali has experienced in the last half-century. It covers also how Balinese observations of their own customs has evolved, including the increasing strictness of Nyepi, the Day of Silence, and by contrast the creation of the ogoh-ogoh ceremony the night before.
Nevertheless, Bali has had to learn to adjust its own expectations, to be pragmatic and understanding in the light of modern life. This has helped tradition and modernity co-exist today: like the coconut palm, supple and flexible in the winds, whereas a stiff and brittle tree may snap in the face of new, opposing forces.
Through this millennium of examples, we hope to convey that change does not mean ‘all is lost’. It is a form of resilience and indeed tolerance, in line with Bali’s own philosophy of ‘Desa Kala Patra’ (Place, Time, Circumstance) which encourages understanding that things may be different in relation to these three things. What do we consider ‘indigenous’ if Bali is a sum of parts, a thousand year project in constant process?
In the face of further cultural evolution, perhaps what is feared above all is a loss of identity, a loss of control, a merging into the anonymous and homogenous. As such Bali should identify the changes they wish to see and take charge over those they do not.
