The Dawn of serenity: letter from Borobudur. (Indonesia)
by Eiji Hattori
UNESCO Courier
Pp.68-74
July-August 1994
COPYRIGHT UNESCO (France) 1994
The Buddhist sanctuary of Borobudur (Indonesia) is one of the jewels
of the world cultural heritage. Eiji Hattori, a specialist in
Buddhist art and thought, has long been fascinated by this great
monument. Here he suggests a new interpretation of its symbolism.
DAWN. The endless forest of coconut trees is sleeping beneath white
mist, while to the east the elegant silhouette of Mount Merapi
stands out against a background of golden light. Smoke is rising
gently from the volcano. Here and there on the awakening plain below
a cock crows and breaks the silence. The lines of stupas stand like
silent shadows in the cool of the early morning. Among them I can
see the statue of a Buddha facing the rising sun; the new day's
light does not seem to disturb his meditation for an instant.
It is the dawn of serenity.
In the half light I can make out a man dressed in white sitting at
the foot of the central stupa. A strange vibration emanates from
him. I listen. He is murmuring a sutra. Perhaps one of Java's few
Buddhists,(1) his hands are joined as he calmly greets the sun that
by now is shining on Mount Merapi. Then he goes silently away.
This is not my first visit to Borobudur. The more I get to know this
monument, the more I am dazzled by its beauty. Some twenty years ago
UNESCO launched an appeal to the international community to save it.
Twenty-seven countries responded and worked with UNESCO and
Indonesian experts to move a million stones over a ten-year period
so that this chandi(2) could live again in its original form.
Borobudur is an exceptional place. It is not a temple--it has no
place for worship nor for making offerings--but a huge Buddhist
sanctuary that is both a stupa(3) and a mandala (a cosmic image).
In eighth-century Java the rulers of the prosperous Sailendra (saila
indra: king of the mountains) dynasty converted to Mahayana(4)
Buddhism, a form of Buddhism that came into being around the same
time as the beginning of the Christian era. Using the most advanced
techniques available, they built this brilliantly designed stone
mandala some time around the year 800. Thousands of labourers,
craftsmen and artists worked on it. But how brief was the life-span
of their masterpiece! Less than a century after its completion
Borobudur had disappeared into oblivion, rather like the earth
mandala in ancient India that returned to dust after seven days of
use.
Why did the dynasty, which had built other masterpieces in central
Java, abandon it in the tenth century and turn its attention to the
eastern pan of the island? Could it have been because of an eruption
of Mount Merapi and the violent earthquake that would have followed?
Like Pompeii beneath its shroud of ash, Borobudur fell into a
thousand-year sleep. It was not until 1814 that the legendary
chandi, buried deep in the jungle, was rediscovered by an agent sent
out by Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles, at that time the British
governor of Java.
The three spheres
Let us take a closer look at Borobudur. On the Kedu plain, formerly
known as the garden of Java, the sanctuary stands on the top of a
decapitated hill and is built of andesite, a bluish-grey volcanic
rock. It is a colossal pyramid of superimposed tiers that are
crowned by an enormous bell-shaped stupa. From a distance you can
tell that the whole construction is organized around this stupa.
At closer range you can see a heavy stone encasement around the base
that was probably built to shore up the monument during its
construction. It hides the real base or "hidden foot", which is
decorated with 160 reliefs, all of which were photographed shortly
after they were discovered in the late nineteenth century.
These "invisible" reliefs depict the Sphere of the Desires that the
human being is bound to, the kamadhatu. I do not agree with theories
that claim this part of the monument was deliberately covered up for
religious motives to prevent pilgrims from seeing it. On the one
hand, the "hidden foot" contains unfinished reliefs indicating that
work suddenly came to a halt due to some unexpected event. On the
other, as I shall explain later, such an error seems quite
inconceivable in such a carefully planned monument. This part of the
mandala symbolizes "extreme exteriority": each side has a stairway
in the middle, leading up to the monument's highest point.
The main structure of the sanctuary is composed of this foundation
and, standing on top of it, five square terraces. The superstructure
consists of three circular terraces. This is the basic shape of the
mandala: the square, a symbol of the earth, and the circle,
symbolizing the sky, combine to produce the number nine, the supreme
figure of Buddhism.
The galleries, which have to be visited clockwise to respect the
ritual circumambulation, begin on the second terrace. They are lined
with 1,300 wonderful bas-reliefs 2,500 metres long. This is
rupadhatu, the Sphere of Forms, in which the human being gives up
his thirst for desire but keeps his name and form. This immense
stone book relates Buddha's life as told in the sutras. Nooks
located on the outside of the balustrades that surround the
galleries each contain a stone Buddha seated cross-legged on a lotus
cushion. There are 432 in all.
Next we come to the foot of the upper part of the mandala. Here the
view to the outside, hitherto impeded by the balustrades, suddenly
opens up, so that one has a sense of spiritual breadth as one enters
the arupadhatu, the Sphere of Formlessness.
In Borobudur the transition from earth to sky, from form to
non-form, is made gently. The square form is not rigorously adhered
to: the edges around each square terrace jut out and break up the
hard right angles, perhaps in an attempt to use architecture to
relieve the monotony of the pilgrim's perambulation. Personally I
see an intentional transition to the circle. Aerial photos show that
the first two terraces are not exactly circular. A slight
deformation makes them more like squares! Only the topmost terrace
is a perfect circle.
Borobudur's three spheres mark the spiral stages of an ascension
that leads the pilgrim up to the stupa of ultimate truth. This
central stupa, whose walls are not perforated like those of the
others, contains nothing: the ultimate point is nothing but
emptiness (sunyata). Buddha himself is hidden. He is there yet not
there; he is being and non-being. Each of the seventy-two small
stupas with perforated walls that stand on the three terraces
contains a statue of the Buddha. His face can only be imperfectly
made out through the gaps in the stonework. These gaps are of
different shapes and become less numerous as one approaches the
central stupa, signifying the Buddha's increasing invisibility. All
these Buddhas have the same hand position (mudra): that of the
perpetually-moving wheel of the Law.
When we reach the summit, we suddenly share the cosmic vision of
Mahayana Buddhism. Here the supreme reality is unveiled, light is
born! Yes, Borobudur, which shimmers in a thousand colours from
morning to night, itself glistens like a huge beacon. The
sanctuary's 504 Buddhas face the four points of the compass and
embrace the world with merciful, shining eyes. Not only these
stupas, but the nooks in the wall-parapets, the little towers, the
smallest parts of the edifice all reach skywards as if to seize the
breath of passing clouds.
The mandala of mandalas
According to this interpretation, Borobudur is the lotus home of the
"Great Buddha of Light", who is depicted in a myriad of small,
finely carved Buddhas. Dust itself becomes light. As the doctrine of
Mahayana Buddhism has it. the one resides in the many, which is
itself the manifestation of the one. In the Gandhavyuha, the sacred
text of Mahayana Buddhism, light is not the enemy of shade: it is
the light of the original emptiness, which transcends the opposition
between being and nothingness.
Let us now look at the mandala--this esoteric image that aids active
meditation of the Buddhist cosmos--formed by Borobudur. Mandalas,
whether painted or sculpted, like the statues in the To-ji temple in
Kyoto, are always oriented in relation to a central point.
Borobudur, which looks out at the four points of the compass while
its "heart" is empty, is a perfect illustration of the mandala
concept.
In 1930 the French archaeologist and architect Henri Parmentier
suggested that Borobudur might have been originally conceived as an
immense stupa resting on square terraces but that problems of
stability forced the builders to rethink the plans for the upper
part. This theory was supported by several participants in the
international symposium on Borobudur held in Tokyo in 1980, but it
seems unacceptable to me. Even if Borobudur underwent minor changes
during its construction, the extreme rigour of its design rules out
the idea of any such architectural compromise.
A mysterious concordance
The mysterious concordance of the numbers one sees at Borobudur is
to my mind sufficient proof. As I have said, there are 432 Buddhas
on the square terraces and 72 others on the concentric terraces of
the upper part. These figures are not a mere coincidence. Since the
stairways divide each of these groups of statues by four, in each
case their total number (432 and 72) and the number of each group
thus obtained (108 and 18) can be divided by three and nine. In
other words, it is clear that the entire structure was conceived as
a function of the number three, which symbolizes unity and the
square of three, nine, a sacred number in Buddhism.
Another researcher, J. G. De Casparis, believed that the central
stupa crowning the structure was a tenth terrace, corresponding to
the ten stages passed through by the bodhisattva ("Buddha-to-be")
before reaching the state of Buddhahood. But when Borobudur was
built only six stages were practised in Java. Surely they are
represented in the six square terraces. But how can the transition
from the square to the circle be explained?
I had never been entirely happy with any of these interpretations.
Then one day I read the Juju shin ron (Treatise on the Ten Stages of
Thought) in which Kukai, the Japanese Buddhist Grand Master who
founded the esoteric Shingon sect at the beginning of the ninth
century, expounds his conception of the mandala.
In his eyes the "ascending transformation of the spirit", for which
the mandala is the pictorial expression, is effected in nine
exoteric (apparent) stages, followed by a final, esoteric (secret)
stage. Could there be any better definition of Borobudur's
architectural significance? Starting from the sphere of animal
desire, the monk eventually reaches the "spirit laden with mystery"
(Himitsu-shogon-Shin), the culminating and hermetic point. The
awakening he experiences then transforms the world into light. Was
this not the secret that the immense mandala was whispering to us in
the early light of dawn?
So is Borobudur a monument of esoteric Mahayana Buddhism? I cannot
say so categorically, but I am profoundly convinced that it is.
Let there be no mistake. I am not claiming that Kukai influenced the
building of Borobudur. I am only saying that Borobudur and Kukai's
teachings share a common source. Kukai himself was initiated into
the esoteric doctrine of Shingon (True Word) in China and introduced
the first mandala to Japan.
In which year did he return to his country? In 806, at the very time
when the Sailendra were building Borobudur on the island of Java.
Let us not forget either that the Todaiji, the temple of the Great
Buddha in Nara (Japan), the conception of which was based on the
same Gandavyuha that is illustrated along most of Borobudur's square
terraces, was inaugurated in 751, the date when work on the
foundations of the Javanese sanctuary is thought to have begun.
The sea route to China
This apparent coincidence is not confined to Japan and Indonesia. In
Ceylon at the same time thousands of monks practised the same
doctrine of Mahayana Buddhism in the monastery of Abhayagiri, which
was in permanent contact with China. And to reach China the
Sinhalese monks did not cross mountains but the sea!
This is where the maritime Silk Road comes in. It played a decisive
role in the story of the meeting of civilizations. It was a speedy
route for the exchange of goods and culture between the East and
West, perhaps even before there was an overland Silk Road. It was
used by many different peoples: Indians, Chinese, Greeks, Romans and
Arabs, as well as Indonesians. Ceylon was a port of call for those
who crossed the Indian Ocean, and once across the Malacca Straits
they either made a detour around Singapore or sailed along the
coasts of Sumatra and Java before heading northwards for Canton in
southern China. The maritime Silk Road eventually stretched from
Italy (Rome) to Japan (Nara), uniting the Indian Ocean, the western
Pacific, the China Sea, the Red Sea and the Gulf.
Borobudur must be seen in the context of this network of extremely
rich and varied maritime exchanges. The seas of Southeast Asia
teemed with activity in the seventh and eighth centuries. And when
talking about Indo-Javanese civilization, especially a Buddhist
monument, we should not forget the part played by cultural
influences from nations other than India.
Look carefully at th:e meditating Buddhas of Borobudur. Their
expression differs from that of Indian or Thai statues, and has a
greater affinity with those of China and Japan. Did not the
Sailendra have a large fleet that travelled to China as well as to
India and Ceylon? Moreover the monks of Abhayagiri often stopped in
Java on their way to China. They were even reported to have founded
a community in the eighth century on a hill near Borobudur.
Could there be a link between the presence of this monastic
community and the building of Borobudur? There is no definite proof,
but the shape of the stupas in Borobudur is not unlike that of the
stupas in the lotus style of Anuradhapura, Ceylon's ancient capital.
I also remember being struck by the resemblance between two statues
of Buddha discovered in the ruins of Abhayagiri and the statues at
Borobudur.
It is of course impossible to understand the conception of Borobudur
without referring to the local culture. In Indonesia there was a
form of ancestor worship that venerated the ancestors' spirits by
building tiered pyramids in their honour. Could this great
pyramid-shaped mandala have been built without such a tradition? The
world owes this unique heritage to the Indonesian people.
The sun has risen over Borobudur. My thoughts turn to the
outward-looking spirit of the eighth century. There were no cultural
boundaries then. Peoples absorbed each other's cultures like
travellers slaking their thirst together. Have those far-off times
gone forever? I cannot believe that they have. Down in the water
lotuses communicate with one another through their roots. Dew drops
on petals reflect the same moon that shines down on white flowers
thousands of miles apart. And the sun that shines on Mount Merapi
now shone on pilgrims' faces at a time when beauty was the splendour
of truth.
1. The Javanese converted to Islam in the 15th century.
2. A name given to Indonesia's oldest monuments.
3. A reliquary or commemorative monument.
4. A sanskrit word meaning "a great means of progression" or "Great
Vehicle".
Borobudur: from rediscovery to World Heritage listing
The site: a vast Mahayana Buddhist monument in the form of a
pyramid-shaped mandala, built in the heart of Java around 800 A.D.
by the Sailendra dynasty and abandoned shortly after its completion.
Size: the square base, with sides measuring some 120 metres, covers
an area of almost one and a half hectares; the central dome that
crowns the monument is almost 35 metres above the base.
1814: rediscovery of the monument by Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles,
who has the site cleared of rubble and vegetation. Specialists
compile documentation based on drawings.
1885: discovery of "the hidden foot"--the original base--and its
bas-reliefs concealed behind the retaining wall needed to keep the
structure from sliding.
1907-1911: Theodoor Van Erp carries out the first restoration work.
He dismantles and rebuilds the three circular terraces and the
stupas.
1955: Indonesia seeks UNESCO's advice on measures to prevent the
monument's dilapidation.
1972: UNESCO launches an international appeal to save Borobudur.
1975-1982: restoration work carried out.
23 February 1983: inaugural ceremony to mark the completion of
restoration work. Total cost: $20 million, two-thirds from the
Indonesian government, and $7 million from UNESCO's international
campaign, in which 27 countries took part.
1991: Borobudur included on UNESCO's World Heritage list.
EIJI HATTORI, of Japan, is currently an advisor for culture and
science to the Director-General of UNESCO. A UNESCO staff member for
many years, he initiated the Organization's Integral Study of the
Silk Roads project.