Women behind the throne
In a nod to the recent Women’s Day celebration, Alan Teh Leam Seng sifts through his copies of the Sejarah Melayu and seeks out female courtiers who were influential in the 15th century Melaka court
SULTAN Mahmud Shah had just carried out the customary funeral rites upon the demise of Bendahara Puteh when he called together nine of those in his court who were eligible to be made Bendahara. As the men stood in a row, the Melaka ruler twice asked which among them was most eligible to assume the vacant post.
The third man standing in the line, Paduka Tuan, answered: “Your Highness, all nine before you are eligible. Whoever is preferred by your Highness shall be made Bendahara.” Sultan Mahmud’s mother, who was listening behind the door at that time, promptly whispered to her son: “Let it be Tun Mutahir.”
Upon hearing his mother’s words, the Melaka ruler promptly proclaimed to everyone’s agreement: “Pa’ Mutahir shall be Bendahara.” Robes of honour customary for the Bendahara post holder and the ancient tradition of a betel-chest complete with accessories were presented to Tun Mutahir.
The above historical event captures my imagination as it shows the crucial role played by the Queen Mother from behind the scene to tip the balance of influence and ensure that her brother, Tun Mutahir, was chosen as the next Bendahara of Melaka.
The Chapter 16 passage is just one of many in my well-thumbed copies of the Sejarah Melayu, a literary work that offers a romanticised history of the origin, evolution and demise of the great Melaka Sultanate, that highlights the enormous power wielded by women courtiers in the Malay palace.
FEMALE INFLUENCE
Although Melaka was never ruled by a queen, the high profile of these court ladies, including members of the royal family as well as certain subordinate staff like ladies-in-waiting and chambermaids, underlines their great influence during power struggles and crucial decision-making.
Influenced by their subtle demeanour and feminine characters, the common folk often viewed these court women, who’d occasionally peep out from behind the curtain or screen with discretion, as mere curious onlookers.
Looks, however, can be deceiving as these Malay queens and court women of the past were very capable of using their great guile, manipulation and ruthlessness to devastating effect. The involvement of these female courtiers was an acknowledged fact within the traditional Malay political system. Their roles were faithfully recorded by palace scribes in the Sejarah Melayu as well as various other hikayats.
An incident related in Chapter 6 illustrated a classic example of how an entire country was brought to its knees when court women engaged in the dangerous game of slander. It all began with the demise of Paduka Sri Maharaja, the ruler of the ancient Malay kingdom of Singapura, whose reign saw the terrible and unnecessary execution of a young boy whose practical solution helped save the island from relentless swordfish attacks.
Paduka Sri Maharaja was succeeded by his son, Raja Iskandar Shah. The ruler had a beautiful concubine ― the daughter of a Treasury officer who held the title of Sang Ranjuna Tapa. Jealous of her popularity, the ruler’s other wives began speaking ill of her and even went so far as to accuse her of misconduct.
Raja Iskandar Shah flew into a rage and, without further investigation, ordered his favourite mistress to be publicly exposed at the market place. The act humiliated Sang Ranjuna Tapa to no end and he questioned: “Even if my daughter is guilty of misconduct, let her be put to death. Why must she be shamed like this?”
Deeply hurt, Sang Ranjuna Tapa despatched a letter to the Batara of Majapahit expressing his intention to provide assistance from within the city walls should the Javanese forces decide to attack Singapura.
The Majapahit ruler immediately ordered a fleet of 300 ships to be assembled together with countless galleys, commissariat crafts and dug-outs. The huge armada ferried 200,000 Javanese fighting men who fell on the city as soon as they reached the shores of Singapura.
After a few days of intense battle, Raja Iskandar Shah ordered the Treasury to issue rice for his troops but Sang Ranjuna Tapa, who was on the verge of switching sides, lied that there was none left when, in actual fact, the granaries were still well stocked. END OF THE SINGAPURA SULTANATE At dawn the next day, Sang Ranjuna Tapa opened the gates of the fort and allowed the Majapahit forces to enter. Many lives were lost that day and Raja Iskandar Shah fled north to Seletar before crossing the Johor Strait to Muar.
Sang Ranjuna Tapa was said to have incurred the wrath of God for his treacherous act. Both he and his wife, together with their house, were turned to stone. A large portion of the Majapahit forces left for home soon after their conquest of Singapura.
Apart from spreading lies to bring down the competition, some court women were even willing to cooperate with opposing factions in plots to murder any ruling monarch they despised. One common method employed was death by poison where female courtiers introduced deadly substances into the food before serving it to their king. History has recorded this method of assassination in Kedah, Johor and Melaka.
Other instances of opposition to the ruler took a more distinct feminine form. References in Sejarah Melayu’s Chapter 22 detailed Tun Fatimah’s marriage to Sultan Mahmud Shah. During her time as the royal consort, Tun Fatimah was said to have never smiled or laughed and she purposely induced miscarriage thrice as a way of exacting
revenge for the injustices committed by the sultan against her family.
Tun Fatimah hated Sultan Mahmud Shah bitterly for ordering the execution of her father, Tun Mutahir (the Bendahara Seri Maharaja), her husband and two other members of her family. The grounds provided for the executions were Tun Mutahir’s plans to commit treason but, in actual fact, it was a thinly veiled attempt to cover up the ruler’s grudge againt Tun Mutahir for not offering Tun Fatimah to be his bride first.
Tun Fatimah only started bearing children when Sultan Mahmud Shah bitterly repented his past aggression and guaranteed a throne for her first born son. Tun Fatimah’s son, Alaudin, later went on to continue the dynasty. Tun Fatimah’s head-strong character was later followed by her granddaughter who also bore her name.
Sultan Mahmud set up his government in Bintan after the fall of Melaka in the hands of the Portuguese. The new masters of Melaka continued to pursue him and, following another attack, Sultan Mahmud fled to Kampar where he subsequently passed away.
GLARING DIFFERENCES
While scouring for further details about the reign of Tun Fatimah’s son, Sultan Alaudin Riayat Shah at his capital in Johor Lama, I become acutely aware that the three different versions of the Sejarah Melayu in my collection contain some rather glaring dissimilarities.
Extensive detail regarding the early history of Johor history found in William Girdlestone Shellabear’s edition are profoundly absent in both the Richard Olaf Winstead edition and C.C. Brown’s English translation of Raffles MSNo.18. The version of the Sejarah Melayu dated 1612, acquired by Sir Stamford Raffles and coded Raffles MS No.18 or Raffles Manuscript
18, is widely considered to be the oldest and most faithful to the original. Shellabear and Winstead were early scholars of Malay literature, including the Sejarah Melayu, and wrote extensively on various subjects related to Malayan history.
Upon closer scrutiny, several other discrepancies between the different versions soon come to light. For example, the Shellabear edition of Sejarah Melayu links the story of Puteri Gunung Ledang to Sultan Mahmud Shah, while both the Winstead edition and Raffles MS No. 18 connect the tale to Sultan Mansur Shah, the grandfather of Sultan Mahmud Shah!
After some time, it dawns upon me that the number of manuscripts of the Sejarah
Melayu and its related texts are actually very diverse. Found scattered in libraries in various countries, including United Kingdom, Singapore and Malaysia, these surviving literature texts exist in varying versions. Some are fragmentary or incomplete while others are just copies of existing manuscripts.
AT THE MERCY OF SCRIBES
As such, these inconsistencies could have happened when the original copyist decided to omit, add or change certain facts in the edition he was working on at that time. In the case of Puteri Gunung Ledang, the writer of the Shellabear edition must have felt that the story was better suited to the character of Sultan Mahmud Shah rather than his grandfather and decided to have the entire section of the text transferred to a much later timeline.
The story of Puteri Gunung Ledang is a moral tale highlighting the ruler’s relentless quest for the best in life, including women. The princess, whose hand in marriage was asked for by the sultan, is portrayed as a mythical and unattainable figure who sets impossible terms in exchange for nuptial agreement.
Disguised as an old woman when confronted by the sultan’s emissary, Tun Mamad, at her mountainous abode, the princess declared: “If the Raja of Melaka desires me, let him make for me a bridge of gold and a bridge of silver from Melaka to Gunung Ledang. As for betrothal gifts, let there be seven trays of mosquitoes’ hearts, seven trays of mites’ hearts, a vat of young areca nut water, a vat of tears, a cup of the Raja’s blood and a cup of his son’s blood.”
After hearing the demands, the sultan declared that all the demands would be fulfilled except for the request for his son’s blood. As a result, the sultan’s desire to marry the princess never reached a satisfactory end.
ATTEMPTED ASSASINATION
The second dissimilarity is related to Tun Mutahir’s appointment as the Bendahara of Melaka. According to the Shellabear edition, Sultan Mahmud’s grandmother, known as Raja Tua, didn’t like him and wanted his elder brother Raja Menawar to become ruler in his stead.
This particular narration, found only in the Shellabear edition of the Sejarah Melayu, continues with her attempted murder of thethen gravely ill Sultan Mahmud. Her plans to suffocate the bed-ridden king were only thwarted when Bendahara Tun Perak and Laksamana Hang Tuah prevented her from getting near the royal sleeping quarters.
The silence in Winstead’s edition and
Raffles MS No. 18 with regards to this incident is rather deafening. This stark absence raises doubts on the accuracy of the narration as it’s highly unlikely for palace scribes to omit this key historical event, assuming that it really happened, in both these important versions.
Deciding to save the rest of my research for another day, I gather my precious books and return them to their rightful place in the cupboard. During the process, I suddenly become curious to know what these female courtiers may have looked like in the past. Surely no images could have existed as the incidents mentioned in the Sejarah Melayu happened more than half a millennia ago.
Fortunately, a stack of old Malay movie magazines on the shelf below comes to my aid. Although not entirely accurate, the photograph-filled pages showing screen actresses in period clothing, at the very least, give an idea of what life was like in a 15th century Melaka court.
At the same time, the photographic stills from the classic movies help to once again bring to life the wonderful stories that reinforce the proverbial saying — behind every successful man, there’s a woman. Conversely, the Sejarah Melayu also has enough tales for us to give some thought to the adage: Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned!