Under the Alien Sky

Copyright © 2010 by James M. Bourke.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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CONTENTS

Preface

1. Michaeli, The Remotest Island

2. Early History and Settlements

3. The Siege of Port Rashid

4. A Chance Encounter in Labuan

5. Voyage to Michaeli and Glimpses of Sabah

6. My Base Camp in The Jolly

7. Out And About In Michaeli

8. A Palace Like No Other

9. The Rainforest: Home of the Undead

10. Religion on All Sides

11. From Lore To Law

12. An Experiment in Democracy

13. Government by Bureaucracy

14. A Self-Sufficient Economy

15. Fauna and Flora in Abundance

16. Storm Clouds Over Michaeli

17. Attitudes and World View

18. Oral tradition alive and well

19. Education then and now

20. Home is the sailor, home from the sea

Afterword

Acknowledgements

DEDICATION

For Aubrey, Ismay and Ronan

PREFACE

Under the Alien Sky is an extended moral fable in the style of oriental tales. It sets out to paint a picture of a remote and secretive State in the Sulu Sea,—the Sultanate of Michaeli, which is, by any standard, an extraordinary place. It has existed in splendid isolation for centuries and still jealously guards its privacy. The book is an account of Michaeli, its history, topography, culture and people. Because of the paucity of historical documentation, some parts of the novel had to be recreated by way of historical inferencing. In that sense, the book is largely fiction. In such a situation a degree of descriptive latitude is in order. The book is basically the story of a journey to an exotic land. As such, the writer was determined not to let factual accuracy get in the way of a good story. It is also an account of regime change in a world of intrigue and subterfuge. The first half of the book is mainly narrative, while the second part is, for the most part, descriptive and reflective. The story strives to be authentic but is in fact entirely fictional.

Since it is a moral fable, I thought it fitting to add explanatory notes on certain issues and factual matters, which are related to but are not essentially part of the main text. They are my private reflections and comments. Many readers may choose not to read these gratuitous asides, dismissing them as the ramblings of an eccentric and twisted mind. I felt, however, that the ‘end notes’ might help to clarify issues and topics that arose in the book and were intended mainly for readers who may be unfamiliar with such matters and especially for readers who have never felt the need to travel beyond their native shore. I hope my story will give all those people some idea of what it is like ‘living under the alien sky’ as I have done for the past 30 years.

Unsurprisingly, in a book of this kind, people tend to find things that the writer never put there. For example, in Animal Farm some people and especially the ‘literary critics’, assumed that Orwell’s book was a satire on Communism under Stalin, whereas in fact, it is simply a moral fable about despotic regimes anywhere in the world. Fables are universal and speak to issues that concern all humanity and are not concerned with one particular place or people. They have two functions,—to entertain and to inform. I hope that my tale entertains the reader and it is possible that some readers at least may find the additional end notes informative. The people, places, and events described in the book do not necessarily refer to people, places and events in real life. Under the Alien Sky is a work of fiction based on fact.

James M Bourke,

Subang Jaya, Malaysia.

June, 2010.

james.m.bourke@gmail.com

© James Mannes Bourke

MICHAELI

1. MICHAELI, THE REMOTEST ISLAND

I find it surprisingly hard to answer the simple question: Where on this planet would you live if you were free to choose? When I was younger I might have said Ireland or Spain or the South of France. However, as one gets older, there is often a strong desire to get away from the maddening crowd and seek out one’s Shangri-La. My own preference would be for an island. All my favourite places are islands,—Ireland, the UK, Malta, Cyprus, the Seychelles, Mauritius, Sri Lanka, Singapore, Penang, Bali, Kiribati or one of the other Pacific Islands. Each of these islands, and many more besides, are very desirable places to live. In order to choose one, however, one would have to look for something off-putting in each, so that the search for just one could be narrowed down. Each person will do this according to his or her own criteria. In my case, Ireland is out (too many men in mohair suits and BMWs), also the UK (too many sub cultures), Malta (too hot and barren), Cyprus (too many chattering tourists), the Seychelles (too much earth-moving equipment), Mauritius (too many moaning Indians), Sri Lanka (a failed state), Singapore (a frenetic supermarket), Penang (too many condominiums), Bali (too many Javanese street vendors), and the Pacific Islands (No way. I’ve read Paul Theroux.) That means I have to start all over again. Perhaps I need to be more specific and say something like: I’m looking for an island that is remote, peaceful, lush, with lots of rainforest and preferably a place where I am not going to meet my ex-wife. I think I may have found the answer.

The island of Michaeli is situated in the Sulu Sea on a line between Kudat at the tip of Borneo and Zamboanga in Mindanao. It is approximately 200 km north of Jolo in the Sulu Archipelago. It is closer to Sabah than Mindanao. The Sulu Sea forms a rectangle bordered by the Palawan Archipelago, the NE coast of Sabah, the Sulu Archipelago, and the fractured SW coast of the Philippines. Being a small island, Michaeli is generally not shown on modern maps of the region. It does, however, appear on what is probably the very first map of the region, a mariner’s map, done c.1520 by Magellan’s cartographer. We must remember that this was a Spanish map and all the territories have Spanish names and islands usually have saints’ names. Michaeli is shown as ‘I.de S. Michael’ but we have no evidence that it was ever a Spanish possession and we do know the islanders repulsed an attempted invasion of the island in 1769. This map was the only documentary proof I had that Michaeli existed. It does not appear on later maps of Southeast Asia and there were many, or if it does, it is unnamed.

Whether by accident or design, the existence and location of Michaeli remained a well-guarded secret for centuries. Even today, people in Southeast Asia have never heard of it, which is not altogether surprising since it was never colonised and there are no books about it. Every other part of Southeast Asia has been described by travellers, explorers, missionaries and naturalists and we now have an extensive literature on the early history of the region, especially Borneo, Malaysia, Singapore, Sulawesi, the Moluccas, the Sulu Archipelago, etc. The University of Brunei, where I worked for 14 years, has a magnificent collection of these early books in its Borneo Collection. I have spent many hours reading these volumes. I must have looked at more than 100 of them and found not a single mention of Michaeli. Much smaller and more remote islands in the region have been described in great detail. How did all the early explorers and travellers miss out Michaeli? It seemed to me as if the islanders had sent out a coded message saying: ‘Please do not come here. We do not exist.’

In the end, I decided that Michaeli had remained a secret place mainly because of its topography and possibly because of propaganda. Topographically, a passing ship saw only a massive wall of limestone cliffs that acted as a natural rampart against any incursion. The only way in was through the narrow channel of the Yellow River, but Port Rashid, the capital, was a fortified citadel whose fortifications reminded one of those in Valetta, Malta. A naval vessel could not get close enough to do real damage because the channel was too shallow, so it was hard to imagine how an invading force would go about a planned invasion. Besides, the invader had no way of knowing that sitting atop the limestone plateau was a land flowing with milk and honey, a veritable Garden of Eden which has been home to the Sultans of Michaeli and its people since the 16th century.

Propaganda may also have worked in favour of the island. The islanders had spread the word that this was a savage and barren land where cannibalism was rife and where warring tribes preyed upon each other. It was a land shrouded in mystery, known to sailors as the haunt of the ‘evil one’, the dreaded albatross. Why then would any potential invader attempt to seize such a worthless and dangerous place? In addition, it had no strategic importance and was not on any shipping lane. Trade between Borneo and the Philippines passed through Jolo in the Sulu Archipelago. Even the Admiralty was unaware of the existence of Michaeli. It is not mentioned in the Admiralty’s publication Eastern Archipelago Pilot Vol.2 (1934) which lists all the islands, ports, sea lanes, and anchorages in the Sulu Sea. However, that is not entirely surprising. After all, why should the Admiralty bother looking for a remote island in the middle of Sulu Sea that may not even exist?

I had become obsessed with this hypothetical island called Michaeli even though the evidence for its existence was meager—just a single reference in an old Spanish map dating back to 1520 that could easily have been misleading since the Spanish were in the habit of giving places Spanish names even before they were incorporated into the Spanish empire. How could a university lecturer and researcher be so naïve as to imagine that Michaeli really existed, and why should he cling so tenaciously to a hypothesis for which there was hardly any credible evidence? The answer is purely personal. I have always relied on personal intuition rather than scientific evidence. That is a strange admission coming from a so-called academic. What I mean is that in my long years in language education I had seen so many research projects that had dubious real value, for instance ‘A feminist approach to English subordination.’ or ‘Left-brain strategies for the rapid acquisition of English modal verbs. or ‘The nature and function of lexical budles in English’. After months of intervention, data collection and analysis, one eventually came up with a fairly meaningless statistic. To me, these studies and their findings are of little value. They are academic exercises designed to keep university lecturers in a job. I am more interested in the bigger picture, holistic issues and the theory of language as a communication medium. For example, if I were a biologist, rather than counting every hair on a beetle’s leg, I should rather pose the question: Do beetles behave the way they do because of nature or nurture? It seems to me the scientists and inventors who made the greatest contribution to our understanding of the world at some point made a leap in the dark. I was about to do that in the case of Michaeli. Fortunately, in my case, it paid off and eventually I found the hard evidence I needed. My hypothesis had been confirmed and I actually found my way to Michaeli. But that is another story, for later.

Approaching from the sea, one does not see land, but only towering limestone cliffs, rising some 30 metres above the sea level. The only point of entry to the island is the narrow channel of the Yellow River. On an eminence raised above the surface of the river, stands the capital city, Port Rashid. There are no beaches at all. The island is surrounded by the deep blue green waters of the Sulu Sea which wash against its towering cliffs, cutting many caverns into the rock face. These caverns are home to millions of swiftlets and bats. All along the NE coast of the island are thick deposits of guano, the fossilised excrement of swiftlets and bats over many centuries.

The island of Michaeli resembles in outline a giant crab, with a central portion some 200 km across from north to south and from east to west, from which extends four large peninsular promontories. Topographically, the island is a bowl, with high mountain ranges all around the rim. These majestic mountains, which have vast cave systems, have peaks which reach a height of 3,500 metres. There are six main mountain ranges; these are, clockwise from the Southeast, the Zamorra Range, the Maasin Range, the Pelangi Range, the Menanti Range, the Nagasang Range and the Wangsa Range. (See my map of the island.) In addition, in the Pelangi Range, is the Holy Mountain, Mount Argus. They are mostly limestone or quartz mountains, covered in a thin blanket of moss and wild grasses. The lower reaches have been terraced and used for rice cultivation. The yield is sparse but many people prefer the dry mountain rice to the long-eared wet rice that grows in the valleys. The mountains support a huge variety of plants. Among the lush vegetation on the lower slopes at 1000 metres one finds wild raspberries and wild mountain cherries. Moss drapes from the trees in the damp atmosphere at 1,500 metres and creates a fairyland of delicate moss garlands, ferns and orchids. It has all the magic of a fairy glen, with deep ravines, caves cut into the limestone, and waterfalls dropping from a height of over 200 metres into dark pools below. These awesome mountains, deep wooded valleys and gigantic caves would be a perfect setting for Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. At the summit, at 3,500 metres, very little plant life is possible.

Since the earliest times, Michaeli’s mountains have been shrouded in mystery, none more so that the Holy Mountain, Mt. Argus near Bandar Jadid in the Pelangi Range. It is believed by the local people to be the home of a ‘naga’, a dragon-like water serpent which, like the Lough Ness monster, emerged every now and then from the depths of the lake. There were photos of the monster but they were fuzzy and obviously the work of amateurs. They might even be fakes. Mt. Argus was also regarded as the abode of the ‘undead’ and people flocked to the Holy Mountain each year to appease the many ‘hantu’ (spirits) that lived there. They would make an offering of a chicken, or seven eggs and scatter lotus and rose petals all around as part of the ritual.

These mountains are dangerous places, full of unexpected ravines and are not easy to climb as the mountain side seems almost to disappear under the all enveloping moss forest. Only experienced climbers should venture beyond 1,800 metres where the ‘cloud forest’ begins. The tall trees here are swathed in mosses, orchids, and lichens and are embellished with delicate bamboos and thorny rattans. Climbers are advised not to wander from the main trail as the montane forests are notoriously dense, unlike the lowland forests. Apart from the hazardous terrain, climbers also have to contend with snakes lurking in the long grass, the vicious bearded boar, the deadly red ants and the mountain tiger, which is not normally aggressive unless provoked. The heat, humidity, and the ubiquitous leeches make mountain climbing a hazardous and arduous undertaking.

Merging with the lower reaches of the mountains is the thick rainforest stretching like a sea of green down to the central plain. More than half of Michaeli is covered in dense primary forest as old as the rainforest of Taman Negara in Malaysia. The Michaeli rainforest is one of the oldest tropical rainforests in the world, 130 million years old. It is also one the richest and most complex ecosystems in the world. There are hundred of species of birds, insects, fish, animals and plants here which have yet to be studied and catalogued. Most of the trees in the lowland forests are dipterocarps,—hardwoods that are water-loving. These are giant trees with trunks measuring 2 metres wide and often reaching a height of 70 metres. Among these ancient trees are the Kuning Siput, Chengal, Meranti, and Tualang hardwoods, famous for boatbuilding and quality furniture. Mature dipterocarp trees, which are not deep rooted, often develop supporting buttresses. These trees are the target of illegal logging. Michaeli has some of the best primary rainforests in Southeast Asia. All forests are protected by law, but sadly, as elsewhere in Southeast Asia, illegal logging has become rampant, and the Land Commission, on instructions from the ruling party, the ‘Gang of Four’ who now rule the country, has re-zoned large tracts of Orang Asli [1] ancestral land and forest as agricultural land, thus allowing the hardwoods that have stood there for hundreds of years to be cut down and sold to timber agencies outside Michaeli.

Vast tracks of dry forest grow on the highlands. The trees here are smaller, seldom exceeding 30 metres in height and among them are other much sought-after hardwoods, such as teak and ebony as well as deciduous trees such as oak and chestnut. These montane forests are notoriously dense. Here, one often finds a giant oak or other host tree being strangled by an aggressive fig plant. It the jungle, it appears, nature’s way is ‘survival of the fittest.’

The prolific rainfall of this equatorial region promotes lush vegetation. The dense tree canopy shuts out the sunlight and leaves the forest floor in permanent twilight, enlivened by the red flowers of wild ginger plants and if one is lucky, the scarlet Rafflesia, the world’s largest flower. It is a parasitic plant, can grow nearly a metre wide and smells of carrion. Rattan is everywhere, its razor sharp thorns have to be avoided at all costs but it is a valuable source of fibre for the forest people, Orang Asli. Here also one finds carnivorous pitcher plants ready to trap unwary insects. The rainforest is an ecosystem containing within it a multitude of interacting ecosystems. On paper, the rainforest in Michaeli is gazetted as permanent forest reserve (PFR) but illegal logging is rampant. The destruction of the rainforests here, as in Indonesia and Borneo, is a wanton act of vandalism for which our planet will pay dearly. The balance of nature has been violated.

The Orang Asli live in the forest and live off the fruits of the forest. They are expert at collecting forest products such as wild durian, camphor, rattan, resins, and the much sought-after Tongkat Ali plant. They are skilled hunters and use the blowpipe in hunting squirrels, mouse-deer and birds.

The mountain streams are still crystal clear, but the mighty Yellow River that runs through the central plain and the equally mighty Impi River that merges with it at Bangi, are no longer clear. They are muddy and ochre-coloured due to the scars of red earth recently bulldozed to make way for plantations of palm-oil. From Bangi, the Yellow River runs due south to the capital, Port Rashid and into the estuary, with dense mangrove thickets on either side.

The fast-flowing Yellow and Impi Rivers are still widely used as a thoroughfare, offering a quicker and more direct means of transport to the interior than the winding unpaved roads, which are often impassible due to flooding. The Yellow River is fed by more than a dozen rivulets from the Pelangi Range and it forms a large lake where the Kepong National Park is situated. Likewise, the Impi River is fed by a dozen rivulets from the Menanti Range in the NE corner of the country. From Bangi to the sea, the Yellow River is wide and deep and large barges can deliver cargo to the dockside in Bangi. From Bangi, however, the upper reaches of the Yellow and Impi Rivers and their tributaries are too shallow for heavy barges but can still be navigated by smaller river boats. Occasionally, in the dry season, the water level may drop considerably and when this happens all the passengers have get out and push the boat. The light river boats are made and navigated by the Orang Asli. Travelling by river boat is fun. The boatmen often stop to spear fish, or call out to monkeys in the branches of trees overhanging the river. There are many villages along the way where the traveller can stop off for a meal and catch a later boat. Usually, one can buy produce in the villages,—fruit, fish, dried meat that looks like wood shavings, straw hats, wood carvings, rattan mats, and large locally made water jars decorated with rainforest fauna and flora. Two other rivers, fed by many tributaries, flow southward, one in Yakan District, called the Lipsi, and the other in Kubang District, called the Lubang. They are major trading arteries in these two provinces but are subject to massive flooding during the typhoon season.

The population of Michaeli is estimated to be 500,000 but nobody really knows for sure since there has never been a census. It is estimated that about 60% of the population are of Malay origin and such people are known as ‘bumiputra’ [2] About 35% of the population are of Filipino stock, but do not have the same privileges as the ‘bumiputras’ and are in that sense second class citizens. Ironically, the original people of the island, the Orang Asli, accounting for 5% of the population, are nomadic forest dwellers and as far as the government is concerned are non-people. They live in the jungle in round thatched huts, in clusters forming villages. The Rungus people live in longhouses in Yakan district. Most of the rest of the population live in four provincial towns, or in the capital Port Rashid, which is known locally as PR.

PR is the capital ‘city’. A large sign in the main street says: ‘Welcome to Port Rashid city.’ which is just as well, otherwise the visitor might think it was a village. Actually, it looks like a small town in Malaysia 50 years ago. It is a walled town, rather like Jolo in the Sulu Archipelago. Its stout walls, ramparts and watchtowers, just like the limestone cliffs on which the whole island is perched, form a formidable defensive network. The main street, Jalan Aman, is a two lane road with shop houses on either side, a few cafes, offices, a post office and a bank. Almost all the shops and offices are wooden structures with rusting corrugated iron roofs. One of the few stone structures is Bank Negara,—a fine limestone building. There are no pavements, and the open storm-water drains are full of garbage and rats. It is not a pretty town, but it has potential. The location is superb and with a little urban planning it could easily be transformed into an attractive place. It is not a compact city. The city centre is cut off from the many sprawling suburbs around it, some of which are no more than shanty towns. The city is divided into two halves, the Muslim East bank and the Christian West bank. The dividing line is the Yellow River. The West bank looks the more prosperous place with bigger shops, cafes, offices and quite a few bars. There is a very large and beautiful mosque on the East Bank and beside it a ‘padan’, that looks like a cricket pitch but is used mainly for public events and parades, especially the National Day Parade and the Sultan’s birthday celebrations. On the West Bank, one finds the enormous and very fine cathedral, St. John’s, and next door a cluster of Mission schools, run by the Maris Stella order of nuns.

On an eminence overlooking the Sulu Sea is the very impressive royal palace, Istana Israh. The whole palace complex is a wonderland that will be described later. There are two budget hotels in the centre of PR and a new resort hotel on the coast, which was built by an Australian construction company at great expense, but, according to the local rumour mill, was never paid for. It is a superb 5 star hotel, boasting an 18 hole golf course, a swimming pool, several restaurants, a conference centre and 200 superbly appointed rooms. Sadly, it is normally almost deserted, mainly because not many people ever come to Michaeli, apart from passing seamen and traders who usually stay in the budget hotels downtown. It is used mainly as a social club by the wealthy ‘pengirans’ (nobles).

In the estuary, there is a fairly large Water Village, with wooden houses precariously perched on stilts above the water. It is being promoted as a tourist venue, but it is a very dirty place and smells of raw sewage.

The town of Bangi is strategically located in the centre of Michaeli at the confluence of the Yellow River and the Impi River. It is a large town, almost as big as the capital, PR, but it is a much prettier town. Unlike PR, it is well planned, with wide streets, a proper town centre, with a clock tower, a town hall and gracious town houses, gardens and parks. It is largely a Christian town, with the very fine St. Anne’s church at its centre, and a large Mission school next to it. Bangi is the main town of the Yakan District. Its district officer seems to be very progressive and one gets the impression that people living here are wealthy and can afford to keep their town in ship shape.

Bandar Isa on the Southeast coast is the district town of Kubang District. It was a quiet rural town until the mining of silicon started in the early 90s. Today it is a booming town thanks to the silicon industry and to a lesser extent to its saw mills, which slice massive logs into loose boards for the export trade. It is the most industrial town in Michaeli and is well placed to