What is established beyond question, regardless of provenance theory, is that by the last decade of the 13th century there was at least one Muslim principality situated on the north-east coast of Sumatra (at Samudra/Pasai)(22); that in the course of the next century this principality extended its local and regional authority (a process noted approvingly by Ibn Battuta in 1345 [1929 : 274]); and that, further, the western approaches to the Java Sea witnessed around this time the rise of several other Muslim port towns with substantial local authority, the most notable of which by the early 15th century was Malacca. Within Java there is evidence of a local Muslim community in the interior of the Hindu-Buddhist kingdom of Majapahit in the latter part of the 14th century, and not long after this numerous Muslim port towns on Java's north coast (23). What occasioned this indigenous acceptance and establishment of an Islamic presence in island Southeast Asia during the 150 or so years from the late 13th to the early 15th century (and its rapid expansion thereafter), given that there had been considerable prior contact with (and some settlement by) foreign Muslim merchants trading within the area almost since the death of the Prophet in 632 A.D.? (24). In the largest sense it has not yet been possible to essay an answer, but there has been frequent discussion of the more focussed questions of the implications of patterns of trade and politics for the processes of Islamization, and it is certain of this literature that is surveyed by Robson (1981), with special reference to Hindu-Buddhist Java.

Robson's discussion is based, in the first instance, on the inferences to be drawn from the expansion, largely in Muslim hands, of both long distance and regional trade in Southeast Asian waters that occured between the late 13th and early 15th centuries. It was an expansion determined by a number of coincident factors, among the more important being the shift in emphasis from land-based to oceanic trade routes consequent upon Mongol incursions in western and central Asia, the not unrelated increase in maritime trade in the late 14th century out of China and Egypt at either end of the main sea route (and a similar rise in economic activity in Bengal), and a growing demand in Europe for Southeast Asian spices and other Asian luxury goods. The changing configurations of trade, commerce, participants, and political authority that resulted established two main foci of economic energy, one in the riverine Malay principalities of the Malacca Straits (centered on Malacca itself), the other in the south Java Sea area, centred on Hindu-Buddhist Majapahit, which united the export strengths of an inland agrarian state in enjoyment of a growing rice surplus with the strategic control (for the time being) of the north coast harbours of eastern Java, the stapling ports for the spice trade. One result, as Robson suggests, was the convergence on eastern Java, in association with trade and commerce, of a considerable range of fresh cultural forces, from revived Hindu and new Persian literary influences emanating from Bengal along with Indian cottons, to Islamic religious and political forms brought by Malay, Arab, Gujerati, Malabari, Bengali, Chinese and other Muslims who did business within, and eventually established separate and competing polities upon, the port towns of the north Java coast. In the early 16th century, these by now Javanized Islamic polities (25) were in a position to move in upon and supplant the failing political authority of Majapahit, establishing Islamic courts both in central Java, at Mataram, and in west Java, at Banten.

While there have been differences of opinion over whether this trade expansion at Muslim hands and its political concomitants was of a degree or kind sufficient to bring about, of itself, major change in social structure and culture, especially in Java (26), there is no denying the close apparent link between early Islamization and certain kinds of economic activity, or between Muslims and the quintessential locale for such activity, the port town. What is more problematic is any more intricate sense of the nature of the link, or of its role (if any) in promoting wide adherence and conversion to the new faith. As J.C. van Leur remarked in 1934 (1955 : 113), «The most important point in this connection... is the sociological structure of Islamic missionary activities». Van Leur himself had little to say about this, beyond expressing a certain scepticism about the likelihood of hard-nosed merchants acting as propagators of religion. The answer may lie, however, less with the merchants than (as Robson emphasizes [1981 : 271] with what are described by Tome Pires (Cortesâo 1944 : II, 182, 240-46) as the «chiefly Arab mollahs» accompanying them or following them at their invitation. Who were these «teachers, scholars, saints and scribes» (foreign -we need not suppose them wholly «Arab» - and later indigenous)? What relation did they hold to the wider Islamic world; what were their teachings; and how did they commend themselves to the people they moved among?

Questions of this kind have been addressed most persistently by A.H. Johns, who in recent years has been almost alone in trying to derive «sociological structure» from the recalcitrant materials of the 16th to 17th centuries (27).

Writing in 1941 or 1942, B.J.O. Schrieke (1957 : 230-67) set out a vast jumble of data, a quarry of largely unworked stone hewn from the literatures of Java, the Malays, the Arabs, the Chinese, and early European visitors by a generation of (mainly Dutch) scholars, that, had the dust been allowed to settle, might have been pieced together to make up a mosaic  of the social and intellectual world of the «Arabic-speaking Mediterranean» (the phrase appears to originate with Goitein) that was the Indian Ocean and its littoral in the 15th to 17th centuries. It was a world in which Turkey and Aceh alike were Muslim powers, in which Mecca, Mughal India, and the Sumatran and Javanese port towns shared a common culture of Islamic scholarship, teaching and disputation. It is this culture and its social context that Johns has for two and a half decades sought to evoke, paying special attention to the life and thought of Sufi teachers (long recognized as prominent in Southeast Asian Islam) and to the nascent urban communities that became the focal points for the further penetration of the Islamic tradition.

Not least important in John's approach to the problem of reconstruction has been his insistence not merely on the uncertainty of what, in particular circumstances, one may or can mean by «Islam» (alike, but not at all times together, a regulator of man's relationship with a perceived One God, a salvation religion, an ontological system, a provider of personal or social law, and a symbol of community identity), but on the variety of peoples, cultures, and material bases upon which these differential aspects of Islam impinged in Southeast Asia (ranging, in the most general terms, from port-pasisir to sawah-agrarian, riverine-swidden, and island-upland fringe societies), and on a comparable diversity of prior religious and belief systems. Like others who have striven to see more clearly the processes at work in the early centuries, and constrained by the slender and fragmentary literary materials that are their sole documentary remains, Johns has concerned himself firstly with the «city states» of the archipelagic littoral, especially 17th century Aceh and to a lesser extent earlier Malacca and contemporary Banten. He suggests that we may perceive therein the social dynamic of a «bourgeois-ulama nexus» (1975 :37; 1976 : 314), with a spiritual and intellectual life that similarly snared in wider Muslim patterns of thought and discourse, strongly marked by the post-13th century florescence of Sufism and the Sufi orders, and fed by direct contact both with the teaching centers, of the heartland of Islam, at Mecca and Medina, and with those of north-west India. The literature that emanated from this urban milieu (28), notably in Aceh, was less sharia based than mysticophilosophical in the manner of the wujûdiyya (from wahda al-wujûd, the Unity of Being) with a sharp polemic and related didactic materials in Malay, between rival schools of Ibn al-Arabî monism, the more heterodox represented by figures such as Hamzah Fansuri(29) and Shams al-Din of Pasai (3°), the more corrective by Nur al-Din al-Raniri from Gujerat (31) and Abd al-Ra'uf al-Singkeli, the Acehnese pupil of Ahmad Qushàshï and Ibrahim al-Kùrânî in Medina (32), who established the Shattariya order in Sumatra on his return and under whose influence Shattariya teaching centers and educational activities associated with the production of such materials, under the patronage of the Sultan or local ruler and stimulated by the peripatetic passage of students and Mecca pilgrims en route to and from Hejaz, Yemen and northern India, is crucial to any proper understanding of the further local diffusion of Islam beyond the port town and into its rural and peasant hinterland. In the result, he says (1975 : 40), «it is from local studies of states and institutions of this kind that any genuine history must begin, for they are the lynch pin of Islamization in the region». In three more recent papers (1976, 1978, 1981) he has continued to elaborate and explore the networks of learning and belief which these early Sumatran (and Javanese), Meccan and Indian scholars belonged (33).

In circumstances such as those described, present especially in northern Sumatra, the Malay peninsula, West Java (Sunda), and coastal Kalimantan and Makassar, any supposed special appeal of wujudiyya Islam, or of Sufi teachers more generally, to the indigenous peoples involved may seem to be beside the point (what else was on offer?), as well as beyond the compass of the available data. As Johns wrote in the introduction to an earlier collection of anonymous 17th century Sufi tracts in Malay (1957 : 11), «It is possible that the cultural background of the Malays predisposed them towards the intellectual form of pantheism which lies at the basis of the teaching of these tracts [as van Nieuwenhuijze (1945) and others imply], but I feel uncertain of the importance of this factor». No similar restraint has accompanied most of the scholarly comment on processes of Islamization within inner Java (sometimes called «Java proper»), concerning which a rather general presumption has prevailed that the combined forces of peasant folk religion and the high culture of Javanized Hindu-Buddhism (or SSiva-Buddhism) predisposed recipients of the new faith to adopt its theosophical rather than its legalistic emphases, with a correspondingly limited effect on existing ideas and beliefs concerning either the cosmic or the social order. That inner Java became the locus classicus of this view, and that this view came in due course to dominate understanding of Islamization in all ^«Indonesia» (if not all Southeast Asia), was no doubt the natural consequence of a number of related phenomena - the richness and complexity of prior Javanese high culture and social organization (and their literary representations), the centrality of Java to the evolving Dutch colonial enterprise, the associated intellectual and research orientations of several generations of Dutch bible translators and «Indologists» (the archipelago became the Netherlands' «India»), and the predominance at all times of Java and its numbers within the political economy of the region. Beyond this in determining interpretative focus and understanding, and in considerable measure springing from it (as well as, in addition, from postWeberian functionalist approaches to religious belief and social action), has been the more recent concentration of attention upon Java of Western (primarily American) social scientists, of whom beyond question the 'most influential, as well as the most prolific, has been Clifford Geertz, whose brilliantly imagined and limned paradigms, constructed in the interest of elucidating the present through retrieval of the patterns of the past, have succeeded in eliding both time and space.

While in east and central Java, as in north Sumatra, knowledge and understanding of Islam seems to have been spread largely by charismatic teachers associated, as far as may be judged, with one or another school of wujûdiyya thought, in Java rather than in Sumatra these 16th to 17^th century figures, here less historical and individual, more mythic and archetypal, came to form within folk and literary traditions a pantheon or synod, the wall sanga or «nine saints» whose storied lives represent, Geertz suggests (in a characteristic pars pro toto formulation), «the classical religious style in Indonesia», regnant from roughly 1530 to 1830 and continuingly influential thereafter (Geertz, 1968 : 40, 42).

The attribution of a special kind of centrality within the cultural tradition of inner Java to pervasive mystical and hagiophilic religious forms, in consequence of (or shaped by) Javanized Hindu-Buddhist doctrines of macrocrosmos and microcosmos and their reflexive relationships, formed a natural part of the observations upon Javanese culture offered both by early Indologists bent upon evoking (as de Casparis points out [1961 : 124]), the greatness of an «Indianized» past subsequently diminished by Islam, and by Christian missionaries whose rudimentary rule-book understanding of Islam led them to see it as deficient in performance in 19th century Java and prone to mystical and superstitious excesses (34) - or to what Stamford Raffles had earlier called robustly «the accumulated delusion of two religious systems» (Raffles, 1817 : I, 245).

As with much else concerning Islam in the region, it was Snouck Hurgronje, reacting against «the nonsensical notions at present enjoying general acceptance» (Hurgronje, 1886; quoted in Roethof, 1957 : 16), who first paid serious attention to the role played by the wujûdiyya in the early Islamization of the archipelago, and to later adaptations of wujûdiyya thought and its related institutions, principally with respect to Aceh, but also if less systematically in Java (35\ It was left to his pupils, however, to embark on exploring more fully the role played by teachers and practitioners of Islamic mysticism in the spread of the new religion in Java. In a series of articles published between 1910 and 1913, D.A. Rinkes assembled the first substantial body of material on the legendary history of the wall sanga, setting out a number of texts of tales concerning them, and discussing in some degree the social and political role of the wali in transitional Java, as well as the reported nature of their teachings, seen in the context of Islamic theosophy. With all its shortcomings, his work is still the only published study of any consequence that has as its prime focus the lives and activities of the walis. Following Rinkes, Schrieke published in 1916, as his doctoral dissertation, the late 16th century Javanese text of a devotional work at that time attributed to one of the wait, Sunan Bonang, and in 1921 Hendrik Kraemer produced, also for his doctoral dissertation, a translation into Dutch of a Javanese Islamic primbon, or instructional notebook, of about the same date (36). Both studies were prefaced by general reimarks surveying the processes and modalities of Islamization in Java (and Sumatra), with particular reference to mystical traditions and some examination of the manner in which Islamic belief and practice of the wujudiyya kind was interpreted and employed to fit the Javanese cultural system it was in the process of penetrating (see, also, Kraemer, 1924 : 29-33) (37). Though the «Book of Bonang» has since been subject to major reconsideration, with respect especially to authorship and provenance, and retranslated into English (Drewes, 1969) (38) and two other manuscripts of much the same period have been published - the «Ferrara kropak» on Muslim ethics by Drewes (1978) and a 17th century Javanese version of Muhammad ibn Fadli'llah's al-Tuhfa al-mursala ila rich al-Nabi by Johns (1964), this tiny handful of texts provides almost the sole published basis on which the specifically theological encounter between 16th/17th century Islam and Javanese religion may be documented, and the «classical religious style» glossed.

If the wali legends and the theological materials that have been made available for interpretation are sparse, explicitly historical and other literary materials produced contemporaneously within the culture, from which they might be contextualized, are not much less so, for although Th. Pigeaud in his monumental catalogue raisonné (Pigeaud, 1967-80 : 1) has proposed an analytical category to refer to the literary emanations of coastal east Java during the 15th to early 17th centuries - that of «Pasisir culture»- and made evident its extent in terms not merely of a considerable Javanese Islamic «mystical» (as well as an «orthodox legalistic») literature, but of focal and «universal» histories (serat kanda) which embrace a distinct (and distinctly Islamic) Weltanschauung, little of this has yet been made available outside the scriptorium or incorporated into any general social history concerned to understand and portray the interpénétration of Islamic and Javanese systems of meaning. While Pigeaud' s catalogue is full of suggestive aperçus about the relationships between Islam and society during the transitional period, and may be seen as providing - in its structural and historical apposition of «Pasisir culture» with the later «SurakartaYogyakarta renaissance» of Javanese culture - a framework for a more dynamic interpretation of inner Javanese cultural history that would proceed beyond notions of an undifferentiated «classical style», he does not himself attempt it and his first interest remains the making of lists and the classification of texts.

The only historian who has used the Pasisir materials at all extensively, H. J. de Graaf , has largely eschewed interpretation and contented himself with the production of colorful and lively but insistently narrative historical accounts of a markedly positivist kind (39). At a more general historiographical level, the regional and dynastic babad (chronicles) that form the basis (together with Dutch materials) of most modern historical accounts of east and central Java from the fall of Majapahit to the 18th century and of the penetration of Islam during that period are all (notably the dominant and multiform Babad Tanah Jawi) (4°) not merely substantially later in composition but ipso facto the product of markedly changed political, not to say socio-religious, circumstances, in which the once vigorous and expansionist sultanate of Mataram, Islamized from the pasisir in the 16^th and 17th centuries, has not merely been forced by alien threat and encompassment to shrink into the shell of inner Java but, stricken by internal division as well, has responded in the late 18th century with a cultural revival that turns, the literary materials are said to imply, as much to earlier Javanese as to Islamic materials for its expression (Pigeaud, 1967-70 : I; Ricklefs, 1974 : 176-226). The specificity of these developments (though they may have analogues elsewhere in Java, and in the archipelago at large, at different times and in differing cultural contexts) makes it difficult to see them as a proper basis for any very large generalizations about «Indonesia» or «Islam in Southeast Asia».

As Johns has emphasized (1981 :5), one cannot suppose the history of the Islamization of the archipelago, either as a whole or in any of its parts, to have been an unchecked, linear, uniform process, but rather one «that waxed and waned, that took its strength from an irregular pattern of pulses over centuries» (41). The same may well be said of the modalities and manner of Islamization, for although a central role for «sufis» seems clear for the 14th to 17th centuries, whether in Java, Sumatra or elsewhere, they too, it can be argued, were more various and had a more variable relationship with the societies of which they were a part (and with different segments of the social order) than has often been recognized. Certainly, and not least for east and central Java, it is possible to hold that far from manifesting a single, characteristic style for the three centuries prior to the 19th, the principal agents of Islamization exhibited considerable diversity in socio- 25 political role, with a corresponding (or at any rate not wholly unrelated) variable presence or Islamic influence within Javanese life and thought.

Concerning this presence, even M.C. Ricklefs, who of recent historians has often been among the most insistent that Islam must be seen as an imperfectly absorbed accretion in the Javanese context (and the primary focus of whose own research, significantly, has been late Mataram, when Islam does appear to have been in some decline within the culture, at least at elite levels), acknowledges that he «rather suspects that Islam was a more powerful influence in the life of the court in the seventeenth century than in the eighteenth», and implies that real attenuation may have occurred mainly in the nineteenth (Ricklefs, 1979 : 107; and cf. Berg, 1955 : 141) <42).

In part at least, as Ricklefs himself suggests elsewhere (1974 : 5-6), this variable influence seems to relate to a much wider range of activity and proclivity among the walis (and their successors) than the standard version allows - being at different times and in differing circumstances traders, warriors, teachers, court politicians, legists, and rulers - and resident not merely in the commercial quarters of the towns or in inner Java's kraton (palace) precincts but scattered throughout the countryside as kyais (teachers) in rural pesantren . In this connection, it may be instructive to compare the work of Richard M. Eaton on Islam in western India at the same period. Concerning the sufis of Bijapur between 1300 and 1700, Eaton notes that «the stereotyped concept of medieval Indian sufis as pious and quietistic mystics patiently teaching Islam... is no longer valid. It is simply not possible to generalize about the sufis... as any unitary group relating in any single or predictable way to the society in which they lived. They clearly played a variety of social roles». Eaton distinguishes six such roles in particular - as warriors, «orthodox reformists», mystical literati, popular literati, landed proprietors, and «dervishes» or esctatics (Eaton, 1978 : 283-85). While it may not be possible to observe quite the same degree of diversity or categorical distinctiveness among the walis and later sufis of Java, it is clear that a case can be made for a fresh look at the ways in which the principal carriers of Islam related to (and often shaped or led) the court, commercial, literary and peasant life of Java during its turbulent and changeable «classical period» from the rise of Demak in the late 15th century to the collapse of Kartasura in the 18th. Though there may well be insights to be obtained by taking Sunan Kalijaga as the archetypal Javanese wali , as «a symbol, a materialized idea.. .the bridge between two high civilizations, two historical epochs, and two great religions... the meaningful link between a world of god-kings, ritual priests» and so forth (Geertz, 1968 : 27), there seems likely to be a greater dividend for historians of cultural and social change in examining the range of walis and associated figures, their social roles and cultural styles, and not least in examining the representations of these roles and styles within the Javanese tradition itself, and its literary expressions. One cannot, in the interests of however desirable a patterned understanding, avoid the burden of complexity.

NOTES

This is the first part of a projected longer essay, undertaken at the invitation of the Joint

Committee on Southeast Asia of the Social Science Research Council (USA). Neither the Committee nor the Council bears any responsibility for the result. I am grateful for comments made on an earlier draft by P.B.R. Carey, Ruth T. McVey and P.S. van Koningsveld, and by members of seminar groups at the University of Malaya, Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia, and Oxford University, as also to the President and Fellows of Trinity College, Oxford, for their hospitality during the summer of 1981.

1. The principal target of Snouck's attack was van den Berg's De Beginselen van het Mohammedaansche

Read, volgens de Imams Aboe Hanifat en Asj-Sjafe'i, Batavia : Bruining &

Wijt, 1874. Van den Berg's two articles on «deviations» are «De afwijkingen van het

Mohammadaansche famille en erfrecht op Java en Madura», BKI, XLI (1892), 454-512;

and «De afwijkingen van het Mohammedaansche vermogensrecht op Java en Madura»,

BKI, XLVII (1897), 83-182.

2. See, especially, in this connection, Kessler (1972), (1974 : 242-49), (1978 : 19-20); and Eickelman

(1976 : 10).

3. For another view of «oscillation» in Islamic societies, see Gellner (1981 : 1-85, esp. 8-16,

on David Hume); and cf. infra, 8.

4. In this connection, see the recent researches of P.S. van Koningsveld (1982). Hurgronje's

part in the waging of the war against Aceh is discussed in extenso in K. van der Maaten,

Snouck Hurgronje en deAtjeh Oorlog, Leiden : 1948, 2 vols.; and cf. also Wertheim (1972).

5. The greater part of Snouck's miscellaneous published writings on the Indies have been

reprinted in his Verspreide Geschriften, Bonn & Leipzig : Schroder, 1923-27, especially

Vol. IV, Parts I & II. His official memoranda have been collected in Ambtelijke Adviezen

van C. Snouck Hurgronje, 1889-1936, The Hague : Nijhoff, 1957, 1959, 1965; 3 vols. (éd.

by E. Gobée and C. Adriaanse.

6. See also Drewes (1957 : 1-15). Snouck's role in the development of Dutch social and cul

tural anthropology is discussed briefly in Koentjaraningrat (1967 : 12, 17), and Ellen (1976 :

314-15); and cf. Ellen (1983 : 49-54).

7. On the Islamic dimensions of this episode in Minangkabau history, see, inter alia, Abdull

ah (1966), Parvé (1855), Cuisinier (1959), Dobbin (1974).

8. Cf. in this connection the discussion by Wertheim (1964 : 23-37) of «society as a compos

ite of conflicting value systems», especially his reference to the work of Leach at pp. 25-26.

9. Cf. van Vollenhoven (1931 : 150-51) : «It is only the regulations concerning religious life

and ritual, law of relationship, marriage and divorce, inheritance and succession, and 'pious'

foundations, that are really important», quoted in Prins (1951 : 285), and see also Prins

(1954). 27

10. For details and a map, see ter Haar (1962 : 6-10, and endpapers).

11. The main repositories of this material are the Adatrechtbundels (Koninklijk Instituut

[1911-55]), published in 45 volumes.

12. The best account of the operation of adat law policy as an instrument of colonial rule

is that given by Harry J. Benda (1958a : 66-68). Cf. also, in Indonesian, Supomo & Djokosutono

(1954).

13. There is a substantial literature on the relationship between Islam and protest movements,

and on later Islamic politics. See, especially, Carey (1981), Kartodirdjo (1966; 1973). Noer

(1973), Boland (1971), van Dijk (1981).

14. A French translation of van Vollenhoven's Ontdekking was published in Paris in 1933,

with a note on the author by René Maunier, the French sociologist and one-time head

of the French Academy of Colonial Science (Maunier, 1933 : iii-x).

15. For a discussion of some of the problems of «legal syncretism» in Indonesia, see Jaspan

(1964-65 : 252-66). The emphasis in Geertz (1983 : 207-14) is somewhat different.

16. Variants upon this view, itself a version of Dutch adatrecht «reception theory», have in

recent years been most often advanced in the work of M.B. Hooker. See, especially, Hooker

(1972, 1974). Cf. also, in Malay, Othman Ishak (1979).

17. See e.g., the materials cited in Hooker (1967 : 8-16), especially those by Taylor, de Moubray,

Parr & Mackray, and Winstedt.

18. The 1874 Pangkor Treaty and subsequent arrangements of the kind excluded from Bri

tish control «all matters relating to Malay religion and custom». For a discussion of this

and of the early years of the protectorate system, especially as it affected Islam, see Sadka

(1968 : 172ff. & 265ff.).

19. Ahmad Ibrahim (1965) provides basic data but little discussion; cf. also Mackeen (1969),

and Othman Ishak (1981).

20. Earlier general surveys and discussions of the literature include Arnold (1961 [1896] :

367-412), Hurgronje (1911 : 1-25), Schrieke (1955 [1925] : 7-36; 1957 [1942?] : 230-46),

Kern (1938-40), Stutterheim (1952), Berg (1955), Fatimi (1963), Majul (1964), Al-Attas

(1969); see also Baloch (1980), and Hooker (1983b). One of the many questions that may

indeed relate to provenance (though possessed of no special sociological relevance) is that

of madzhab (school of law). The Shafi^ school, dominant in south-east India in the

13th/14th century but not in north-west India or Bengal, seems to have predominated

in Southeast Asia from the outset, as it does today.

21. Hall (1977) discusses recent research in both north Sumatra and south India, but breaks

no new ground.

22. Hasjmy (1981a) has argued that there is evidence for an Islamic state at Perlak, in the

same vicinity, as early as 225 A.H. (839/840 A.D.); cf. Hasjmy (1981b) for the procee

dings of the seminar at which this paper was presented, and Chambert-Loir (1982) for

a comment.

23. For an historical account of thse early Muslim settlements and states, see de Graaf &

Pigeaud (1974), and the English summary of this in Pigeaud & de Graaf (1976 : 1-33);

cf. also, on «Pasisir history», the synopsis to Pigeaud (1967-80 : I, 134ff).

24. On Arab and other West Asian trading activities in early Southeast Asia, see especially

Huzzayin (1942), Tibbetts (157), Morley (1949), and di Meglio (1970).

25. Ricklefs (1979 : 106; 1981 : 7), following Pires, has suggested that the process of «Javanization»

of these diverse coastal ruling groups, in admiration and emulation of Java

nese aristocratic culture, may have been as significant as the Islamization of members

of the Javanese ruling class, a notion that might profitably be pursued.

26. See, e.g., Geertz's comments (1963 : 43) on van Leur (1955 : 110 ff), and cf. Geertz (1956 :

88f).

27. See, especially, Johns (1961, 1975, 1976, 1978). For some discussion of conversion accounts

in pre-modern Malay and Bugis literature, see Jones (1979). 28

28. For critical comments on Johns' use of the concept «urban» in this context, see Day (1983 :

142-43, 148-49). For an earlier, more hypothetical discussion of the town as the essential

locus of early Islamic culture in Southeast Asia, see Geertz (1956 : 89-90).

29. For a discussion of Hamzah's life and thought, see Al-Attas (1970).

30. On Shams al-Din, see Niuewenhuijze (1945).

31. See Al-Attas (1966, 1975). The second of these works is a rejoinder to Drewes' (1974)

criticisms of the first

32. See, especially, Johns (1978).

33. Cf. also, especially in relation to Johns (1978), Voll (1975), which discusses a directly related

«intellectual group in eighteenth-century Madina».

34. See, especially, Poensen (1886), and cf. also the discussion of J.F.C. Gericke in Day (1983 :

134-35).

35. His most extensive descriptive account of Islam in Java (1924 [1891-92] : 111-248) has

relatively little to say about early Islamization, but see pp. 186-95 on the presence of Sufism

more generally.

36. This manuscript had earlier been published by J.H. Gunning (1881).

37. Drewes (1969 : 19) takes Schrieke rather sternly to task for not confining his discussion

of early Islam in Java to the text in front of him. The problem found by others with most

of the Dutch philologists, despite their great erudition, is that they too often do nothing else.

38. Drewes has also re-edited Gunning's and Kraemer's text (Drewes, 1954).

39. From de Graaf's highly prolific oeuvre, published over a lifetime, it may be sufficient to

refer here to two recent publications that relate directly to the matter under discussion,

de Graaf & Pigeaud (1974) and Pigeaud & de Graaf (1976), the last containing an English

summary of the first, and of seven other publications of de Graaf originally in Dutch.

Cf. also de Graaf (1949) and (1970).

40. For successive Babad Tanah Jawi texts, from the point of view of the fall of Majapahit,

. see Ricklefs (1972); and cf. also for a more general discussion of Javanese historiography,

de Graaf (1965) and Riclefs (1976).

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