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A History of the Minahasa c. 1615-1680

Jouke S. Wigboldus

Citer ce document / Cite this document :

Wigboldus Jouke S. A History of the Minahasa c. 1615-1680. In: Archipel, volume 34, 1987. pp. 63-101;

doi : https://doi.org/10.3406/arch.1987.2374

https://www.persee.fr/doc/arch_0044-8613_1987_num_34_1_2374

Fichier pdf généré le 21/04/2018

Jouke S. WIGBOLDUS

A History of the Minahasa c. 1615-1680

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technically to design of this Archipel issue. The last paragraph of the

conclusions is new. Mrs. M.C. Rigg-Lyall improved the English of this article.
After 1978 I began to make a study in depht of the unpublished as well
as the published sources on the Minahasa before the mid-19th century, but
it is not yet time to publish a revised and extended version of my paper.

Introduction
This is a preliminary study of the 17th century Minahasa, interpreted
a little in the light of later history and based only on published sources
including recorded oral traditions.
For a good understanding of this study, one should take account of the
main geographic features of the area, dealt with elsewhere in this issue
of Archipel. Suffice it to say here that the Minahasa is distinguished by
two lowlands areas, running from the northwest to the southeast. One stre-
ches from the Bay of Manado to the Bay of Kema, and one from the Bay
of Amurang to the Bay of Belang. These lowlands divide the Minahasa into
three parts. It is the Middle Minahasa, about 2 000 km2, that is the
historical heartland.
An elementary knowledge of the historical backgrounds is
indispensable to the reader of this article. Two outstanding periods can be
distinguished within the dim past of the Minahasa; the known occupation of the area,
and its semi-history after the mid-15th century. Let me summarize that
early history as follows.
64

Whereas the very first occupation of the Minahasa and its earliest
prehistory still remain in archaeological semi-darkness, oral tradition of the
present Minahasans tells of waves of people coming to the area. Three main
reasons point to the theory that nearly all these settlers must have come
directly or indirectly from the north. The Minahasan traditions, manners
and customs seem to hint it; the languages of the Minahasa and Bolaang
Mongondow are the only Sulawesian ones to belong to the Philippine
language group; the physical appearance of practically all the Minahasans,
which struck Iberian observers in the first half of the 17th century, makes
several authors believe they arrived from the north (*).
Apparently the three tribes which for many generations lived almost
only in the Minahasan heartland, are descended from the 'first' settlers.
According to one of the traditions they came in along the Ranoiapo river
in the south. After a tripartition of the original tribe, the Tombulu settled
in the northwest, the Tonsea in the northeast and the Tontemboan in the
southern part of the Middle Minahasa. The Tondano people, a related fourth
tribe, must have arrived later and were given permission by the Tonsea
men to settle at Lake Tondano on payment of a tribute.
Four other tribes were found on the Minahasan mainland. In the
southern area lived the Tonsawang, the Bentenan (who inhabited the areas
of Pasan and Ratahan), and the Ponosakan. In the northwest, on the Bay
of Manado, lived the Bantik people. Linguistically, the Bentenan and Ban-
tik tribes are related to the people of the Sangi Islands which lie to the
north of the Minahasa, and the Tonsawang people to the Tontemboan tribe
and a little to the people of Bolaang Mongondow, while the Ponosakan tribe
is of purely Mongodow origin. The Bentenan, Ponosakan and Bantik
tribes all arrived from Bolaang Mongodow, the first two still owing allegiance
to the raja of Bolaang until at least the end of the 17th century, while the
Bantik people are said to be a remnant of mercenary troops, former slaves
of Mongodow who came in with the monarch of Bolaang to fight the older
Minahasans. The Tonsawang tribe seems to be of West Melanesian
origin (2).
Of these eight tribes, the Tombulu, the Tontemboan and the Tondano
had already split into several subtribes by about 1615. Besides these
divisions there were both earlier and, more especially, later mixings through
migrations within the Minahasa (3).
Lastly there were the Bajo, a fishing people who had always lived in
a few villages scattered along the coast. They remained sea nomads and
absolute strangers, and are not relevant to this study (4).

In the transition period between prehistorical and historical times, and

THE TRIBAL TERRITORIES

TONSEA
TONDANO/TOULOUR
TOMBULUH
TONTEMBOAN
PONOSAKEN
TONSAWANG
BANTIK
BOLAANG MONGONDOW
BATU PINABETENGAN
66

until the early 17th century, the small islands lying off the northwest coast
of the Minahasan mainland were inhabited by the Babontehu people.
Perhaps during and after the last quarter of the 15th century, when
people of Ternate (a rather small island, about 250 km to the east-southeast
of the Minahasa and lying off Halmahera's west coast) began to embrace
Islam, the Babontehu people came into regular contact with the broader
world. In the 16th century the Northwest Minahasa islands must have been
prosperous. Their rather dense population was fairly sophisticated, had a
monarchical form of government and had better communication with the
outside world than the neighbouring mainland did.
The Babontehu men were bold and feared sea pirates, operating from
Manado Tua. They had friendly relations with the people of Ternate and
exacted tribute from people as far up as the area of the Tomini Gulf
(between North and Middle Sulawesi). For a short time Bolaang Mongodow
people was under their authority, but then the tables were turned. Many
Babontehu people took refuge in the Sangi Islands and the rest came under
the control of Bolaang. When the first Spanish galleons arrived, in about
1616, the Babontehu chiefs seem to have tried, with Spanish help, to obtain
a foothold on the opposite coast. Anyhow, in the first half of the 17th
century the last (small) Babontehu group left Manado Tua, which had become
inhospitable, and after 1680 mixed the Minahasans living in the area near
Manado.
Previously the neighbouring island people had seldom come into close
contact with the Minahasans from the mainland, who lived predominantly
in the interior. Along the shores, especially at Tompaan (to the north of
Amurang), there was some exchange of foodstuffs and probably other small
articles. The Babontehu people must have feared the wild forest
inhabitants who, according to tradition, were great in number and had the
reputation of being cannibals.
From before the arrival of the Iberians and continuing until far into the
18th century, there were many quarrels and much fighting between Bolaang
and the Minahasans. The troubles must have originated mainly in the
marriage of a Bolaang prince with the daughter of a high Tontemboan chief.
The prince promised to give the land between the rivers Poigar and
Ranoiapo as his marriage gift, but did not keep his word. Rather, his
descendants claimed the right to rule over the Minahasa. After coastal Bolaang
had become united with highland Mongondow, a fact which allowed
auxiliary troops to be formed, the three most typical Minahasan tribes must
have successfully joined hands against intruders. However the South
Minahasa remained an uneasy borderland (5).
Simao d'Abreu, a Portuguese explorer, was the first Westerner to catch
a glimpse of the Minahasa. In 1523 he passed North Sulawesi, taking spe-
 67

cial note of Manado Tua, the miniature island which was then generally
called Manado. Old maps give an impression of the Western confusion about
Sulawesi's identity before 1534 (6).
Northeasternmost Sulawesi was a peripheral area in the framework of
Indonesian history of that time, far outside the sphere of the former Indian
influence and just beyond that of contemporary Islam. The first Iberian
penetration of the area seems to date from the 1530s or 1540s. In those
days the Portuguese extended their missionary activities to the maritime
part of the northwestern Minahasa. They made a successful start. By 1552
one of the Indonesian envoys to the Portuguese on Halmahera must have
come from the four major tribes of the Minahasa. Men wanted to embrace
Christianity. The first description of the mainland Minahasa, a Portuguese
one, dates from this year : «good climate, fertile soils, no Muslims». By 1568
many Babontehu people had been converted to Christianity (7).
From 1572 until 1617 however, missionary activity was interrupted by
continuous wars. In 1563 the sultan of Ternate tried to bring North
Sulawesi under his authority. By 1568 Bolaang had already submitted, though
not paying tribute before 1677. In the 1560s the relations between
Ternate and the Iberians were still peaceful, but after 1570, when a sultan was
murdered, strong resistance broke out. When the Dutch became Ternate's
ally in the first decade of the 17th century the wars accelerated. From 1607
to 1609 the people of Gorontalo (living west of Bolaang Mongondow) and
Manado Tua were called subjects or allies of Ternate (8).

The first colonial period

This main part of the article deals with the origin and establishment
of (semi-) colonialism in the Minahasa. It has two sections. The first one,
which deals with colonial policy and practice, follows the process of
Western penetration into the Minahasan society from the colonial top. The
individual acts, events and attitudes of the powerful are empasized. The second
section deals with the consequences for the country and its culture. I have
tried to show their characteristics and the general changes from below, at
grassroot's level. Here I am less sure of my ground. My knowledge of the
Minahasa is based only on published sources, which mainly comprise the
old descriptions of the many, as seen by a few (Westerners), who
succeeded only to a certain extent in putting themselves in the place of the various
Minahasans. The last subsections deal only with those aspects which are
rather clearly of economic-historical relevance. A further explanation of
my working method is given in the beginning of subsection 2.4.

1. A chronicle
The colonial course of the Minahasa encouraged the overemphasis of
68

Dutch activities, so that we have almost no interesting or systematic study

of the Spanish period. This should be taken into account when reading both
1.1 and 2.

1.1 The Spanish subperiod

Although Graailand still maintained that the Spaniards had already
arrived by the middle of the 16th century, later studies made clear that they
did not pass from maritime imperialism to Minahasan 'colonialism' before
1606 and may be not before 1616. With Babontehu help they settled in
Wenang, then still an unimportant place, which they fortified about 1623
and renamed Manados. In contrast to the Portuguese, who came to pursue
a purely missionary 'imperialism' in the Minahasa, the Spaniards had only
political and (especially) economic aims. Soon they had penetrated Wenang's
hinterlands, built a second fort in the Bay of Amurang and extended their
supremacy to about the southwest border of the present-day Minahasa.
We do not know to what extent the Minahasans willingly recognized
Spanish rule. Did they initially welcome Spanish help against the Bolaang
intruders ? Riedel says that at first the Tombulu subtribes were
unresponsive.
The Spanish author Colin wrote in 1663 that the Minahasans were well-
disposed to his people and had payed their tribute until 1642; then they
revolted. I got the impression that here, in contrast with commercialized
Moluccan territories, the Spaniards - although they would not have
hindered the Minahasan trade with the outside world - did not themselves
carry out any appreciable barter business in Sulawesi's northeast corner.
It was not so much the taxes - rice and wood products - as the hunting
and violating of girls and women which caused offence and mutual jealousy
and led to an implacable war. There was repeated fighting with the four
Tombulu subtribes Tombarini, Sarongsong, Tomohon and Kakaskasen. In
1644 the allied Tombulu communities sent a mission to the Dutch in Ter-
nate, asking for help and an alliance. The first part at least of their request
was successful. Relations with the Spaniards were easier until 1651. It was
probably about the early 1650s that the village Kali, situated near Manado,
became a new centre of fighting between the Spaniards and the
Minahasans, and a missionary was killed there (9).
Mangindaan points to the initial refusal of the Tondano people to
recognize the authority of the Spaniards. Riedel and the Dutch Dagh-Register
of 1663 (a kind of diary) indicate that the Tondano tribe was the only
central one which maintained friendly relations with them and with the
missionaries. Riedel held the view that the Tondano people strived for the
mastery of the Minahasa. Anyhow, the so-called slaves of Tonsea married their
daughters right willingly to the Castilians and turned on the other hand
 69

against the Dutch, who were to have various struggles with them between
1660 and 1810. Even by 1663, because of Tondano resistance, the United
East Indian Company could not get enough rice from the Minahasa <10).
In 1580 Portugal was united with Spain. Although by 1606 the Spaniards
had become strong in the North Moluccas, between 1614 and 1616 the tables
were turned. The Portuguese missionaries were forced to leave Siau (one
of the Sangi islands) and Halmahera, and they shifted their field of
activity back to the Minahasa. Following the tracks of the Spaniards they
penetrated the interior for the first time in 1617, and noticed a striking
difference between the coastal and the highland Minahasans. In Manado there
were still traces of former christianization, but the maritime area had
become strongly influenced by Islam. In the upcountry lived only heathens
and it was here that work seemed most promising, «for that tribe is very
large and spread over various villages, while the greatest number live along
the shores of a lake». The hope was not unfounded, and by the 1640s or
1650s the Gospel had already been embraced by about 4 000
Minahasans (n).

1.2 The Dutch subperiod

In 1608 the Dutch made their first visit to Manado Tua to fetch rice.
In 1614 they captured Siau from the Spaniards. About 1616 this island was
garrisoned with 7 men, to protect Manado Tua against Ternate, but from
fear of «inconveniences» between the Ternatans and the Dutch, the latter
very soon withdrew the garrison. In the middle of the Dutch Golden Age
problems arose over the Company's supplying of the Moluccas with the most
beloved food of Monsoon Asia. Although no battle was joined, the Dutch
expedition of 1644 against the Spaniards (see 1.1) had an indirect success,
as the enemy left the Minahasa in peace for seven years. In 1651 they again
captured various places in the country. In the third quarter of the century
Bolaang also asserted itself in the northwestern half of the Minahasa.
The Dutch first settled in the Minahasa in the years 1653 and 1654. In
1653 they landed near Manado probably, fetching paddy from the village
Kali which was said to supply much rice. From 1644 or even earlier the
Company mistook the Babontehu prince of Manado for the king of the
Minahasa. I found no clear information about the part played by the former
people of Manado Tua between the Spaniards and the other Minahasans after
1616. At any rate the Tombulu chiefs of Tombariri, Sarongsong and Tomo-
hon persuaded their new ally not to accept the Babontehu proposal to
appoint one of their chiefs as the prince of Sulawesi's northeast corner.
In 1656 the Company fortified its station at Manado and in the years
1662-1663 the Spaniards had to leave the far northeast Sulawesi.
Between 1657 and 1659 however the relations between the Company
70

and Makassar (Ujung Pandang) became strained. In 1606 the king of

Makassar asserted himself in Buol (in the west of Bolaang) and in about 1636,
being on good terms with the enemies of the Dutch, he forced Manado Tua
and many other former 'vassals' of Ternate to acknowledge his overlords-
hip. In 1658 Batavia feared that unecessary difficulties with the proud
Makassarese might arise. The governor-general instructed the governor
of the Moluccas to abandon Manado if the severe Sulawesian competitors
of the Company should arrive with a strong military force. The governor
reacted however by redoubling the garrison strength at Manado and soon
the roles were reverted (12).
In 1664 Tondano was subjected for the second time by the Dutch though
it remained quiet for the time being. The rest of the Minahasa - probably
apart from the southeast - must have been captured or kept more or less
under control from 1661 on. In 1670 however Ponosakan and Ratahan came
to blows with Tonsea, Kakas, Tondano and Remboken. It took two years
to bring about peace both with each other and with the Company v13).
Was the Minahasa worth troubling about ? Did the replacement of
Spanish tribute for Dutch barter change the situation much ? Probably in the
years up till 1689 the Company could consider itself lucky to get, through
barter, 100-150 fasten (cargoes, at Manado each amounting to 4 400
Amsterdam pounds) of a paddy and rice mixture from the Minahasa. The 227
cargoes of 1677 were an exception. All this fell short of the high
expectations, put by the governor of the Moluccas in answer to a letter from the
central East Indian government, of 400 or 500 cargoes in 1658 and of 1 000
cargoes of paddy in 1659 (amounting to 200-250 and 500 cargoes of rice
respectively), for in 1657 Batavia had already suggested the abandonment
of the Manado station because of the poor promise shown by rice barter
till then (14>.
By 1661 the prognosis had become more sober : 100-150 cargoes per
year for 12 realen each (at 48 Dutch pennies), to be payed in pieces of lijn-
waad (cotton textiles). The prices of the various kinds of textiles may have
differed from 3-7,5 rixdollars (at 52 pennies) per piece (of ca. 7,5 m), at
least about 1800. In 1665 and later it was hoped to find other profitable
products besides paddy in the Minahasa, but by 1682 it was already well-
known that products like turtle horn, birds' nests, fuse, wax and honey
would remain an almost negligible part of the trade with the area (15).
In 1670 and 1671 the Company began, for the first and about the last
time, to be active in promoting innovations in agriculture. Men brought
coconut trees and cattle and offered 15 instead of 10 realen per cargo of
rice. The governor of the Moluccas has expected the price to be 13 or 14
in 1654 and 10 realen in 1659, but now his realism grew. Nonetheless the
 71

Company believed that during these years the large population (4 000-5 000
adult males, the estimated figure then, apparently was an impressive
number) would be stimulated to plant more paddy now that the price had been
raised so much.
The stimulant was not given in favourable years. In 1672 the traders
from Manila did not come to the Dutch at Manado or other parts of the
North Moluccas, for fear of the Taiwanese sea pirates under Koxinga, who
were said to have come southwards. Besides in 1675 there was again a lot
of internal strife in the Minahasa. By this time the estimate of the number
of men capable of bearing arms had been raised to more than 7 000 (16).
It was not until 1679, 35 years after the communicative Minahasans had
approached the eager Company, that a treaty was concluded. This was the
first Dutch step towards regular political and administrative control of the
Minahasa. The contracting subtribal chiefs (whom the Dutch ignorantly
called village chiefs), convened in general meeting, promised :
1. to recognize the Company as their overlord and to assist the Dutch
by giving life and property should the occasion arise;
2. to perform some specified services both for the Company and for the
public works;
3. to deliver paddy for re-suplying ships, and wood in case of ship damage,
but nothing for export.
The Company, in turn, promised :
1. to protect the people of the 23 Minahasa 'villages' as its subjects;
2. to extend the contract to the people of the 4 and half tribes or subtribes
which had not turned up (Tonsawang, Pasan, Ratahan, Ponosakan and part
of Bantik) if they would stop paying tribute to the king of Bolaang;
3. to grant freedom from taxation, except if necessary in time of hostile
attack (17>.
There was no mention of the islands along the shores, because they had
become totally depopulated in the course of past changes in power.

2. Minahasan country & culture 1615-1680

We are fortunate to have three descriptions of the old Minahasa,
especially from the 1640s to the early 1680s : two minor surveys by Colin and
Padt-brugge and one penetrating analysis by Padt-brugge. Together with
more scattered sources they give us enough for a concise reconstruction
of the Minahasa in the 17th century and of the Iberian influences upon it.
When the following text refers to the last of these three studies, a rather
short one, there will be no footnotes (18).
72

2.1 Demography

The three tables of this subsection, explained in the Appendix, are the
result of informed guesswork. Table 1 gives a view of the total number of
the population. According to it, the Minahasa had 5,5 and 8 inhabitants
per km2 in 1615 and 1680 respectively. To my mind the last estimate is
fairly close to the truth.

Table 1 : Population of the Minahasa, 1615-1678, in absolute numbers.

Year Natives Foreigners Total

1615 27 500 - 27 500

1678 39 900 100 40 000

The 100 foreigners were mainly the so-called Burghers, who were the
Creole descendants of Iberian and Dutch crews who had settled in the Dutch
fort after the middle of the 17th century.
The population density is a rather high one for a region in the vast
Indonesian area of swidden cultivation. We have practically no Indonesian
population figures for the 17th and the 18th century, but we can look at some
later figures, to get at least an impression of the Minahasa's relative
position. Compare for example the figures for Sumatra's East Coast. This
territory (of about 92 000 km2, so that the comparison is only justified to a
certain extent) must have had about 1 inhabitant per km2 in 1680 and over
6 in 1905, after four decades of intense modern plantation development
in Deli. Java, on the other hand, had about 30 inhabitants per km2 in 1800
or twice the number of the Minahasa at the same time. The first
acceptable number for the Residency Besuki - with an area of about 10 000 km2
in Java's East Corner- is said to be about 15 per km2 in 1825, the same
as the population density in the Minahasa at that time. The Minahasa should
also be compared
District' of Indonesia
with with
Sumatra's
youngWest
volcanic
Coast
soils,
(about
many
40 000
sawahs
km2),and
an 'Outer
coffee

cultivation in the 19th century. There we find for 1895 over 26 inhabitants
per km2 as against about 33 in the Minahasa (19).
It is therefore not surprising that Colin's informants, especially the
Portuguese missionaries, thought of the Minahasa as being densely populated
about the early 1640s. Only small commercialized Moluccan islands like
Ambon, Banda and Ternate (the biggest roughly 15 % of the Minahasa area)
may have numbered over 30 inhabitants per km2 in 1680. Colin mentioned
the population density of the agrarian Minahasa after he had mentioned
the great wealth of the country and he was right. The Minahasa with its
 73

volcanoes was an exception to the general picture of the Moluccas.

Certainly, as a peripheral area with abrupt slopes and only small trips of
coastal lowland, the Minahasa could not compete with the major part of Java.
However, when the soil was exploited more intensively in the 17th
century, a number of powers became greedy competitors (2°).
This next part of the subsection deals with the regional and tribal
population figures. In about 1678 the Dutch took a census of the number of weer-
bare mannen (men capable of bearing arms) per subtribe or district. Relying
on this basis and making a few suppositions we get a good idea of the major
regional distribution of the population (Table 2).

Table 2 : Population of the major Minahasa areas, ca. 1678, in percentages of the
total Minahasa.

Northern Minahasa 8
Middle Minahasa 86
Southern Minahasa 6

The geographic tripartition concerned differs slightly from one in the

Introduction. For the South, I took the area of the four southeast tribes,
which were not yet under Dutch domination, plus the southwest area across
the river Ranoiapo. For the North, I included a few kilometers beyond the
line Manado-Kema.
In the North, only the western part was inhabited; here the northern
and eastern parts were still almost unpopulated. The South remained a
turbulent area, being challenged by Bolaang during most of the 17th century.
After the Spanish penetration at the beginning of the century, the
southwest across the Ranoiapo river must have once again belonged to Bolaang.
I have ignored the Bolaang peasants who may have been scattered
throughout the contested territory. This part of what was later the Minahasa could
not have been colonized by the Tontemboan people before 1680. My
estimate of the southeast population is a rough approximation, based on returns
from the 19th century. However, in view of the clearly low southeast
population at the end of the 17th century, appreciable proportional mistakes
in Table 2 are not likely. The Middle, for foreigners the most well-known
area, must have been inhabited by over 17 inhabitants per km2 in 1680.

Table 3 shows the distribution of the population between the tribes. The
Babontehu people came to live in and near Manado. This 1 % could have
contributed soon to the Burgher population of the 'capital'.
74

Table 3 : Tribal populations, ca. 1678, in percentages for the Minahasa excluding
the southeast.

Babontehu 1,00
Bantik 2,75
Tombulu 39,50
Tonsea 3,25
Tondano 25,50
Tontemboan 28,25

About one tenth of the Tombulu tribe lived in the North, together with
the Babontehu, about half the Tonsea and half the Bantik. Tradition tells
of the expansion of the Tombulu people from the Lokon mountain towards
the northwest (via Kakaskasen to Wenang; the villages Koka and Kamata
were founded in the first half of the 17th century) and towards the west
(Tombariri, with its coastal village Tanawangko). Langoan is said to be the
cradle of the Tontemboan tribe, which later must also have expanded
towards the west.
From these figures we see that no one tribe could easily dominate the
others, but also that it was natural for the northwestern Tombulu people
to take the lead when the northwestern half of the Minahasa became
threatened. The four Tombulu subtribes which repeatedly fought against the
Spaniards, amounted to one third of the total Minahasa population. There was
however no even distribution among the four; Tombariri numbered 28,
Sarongsong 5, Tomohon 60, and Kakaskasen 7 %.
Most surprising is the extremely low figure for the Tonsea population
at this time - only about one tenth of the figure for the 'slaves of Tonsea'
(the Tondano people). Tradition states that the Tonsea tribe originally lived
at Tonsea Lama, near the village of Tondano. Then, a part of this tribe
must have settled at the village of Talete, a later kampung (part, 'hamlet')
of the village of Tomohon and the people would have become integrated
into the Tombulu way of life. In 1678 this village was the Tontalete of the
Dutch census. If the villagers had then still lived apart from Tomohon, we
should perhaps have to say that the Tonsea numbered 5 % and the
Tombulu 37,5 % instead of the figures stated in Table 3.
The tribal relations and intermingling could have been even more
complex, because tradition also states that the Tombariri area was colonized
from two quarters of the village of Tomohon, one of these being Talete.
Still later, probably after 1680, the Tonsea village Tontalete {Ton means
people) was founded near Kema. We get the impression that at least until
the middle of the 17th century, to the east of the centre of the oldest tribes
 75

at Lokon, the centripetal power still (or again and yet) dominated the
centrifugal power. In subsection 2.4 we will see that in about 1680 the Tonsea
people formed a dominant minority with a rather strategic position and
a highly developed leadership, incompatible (under the Dutch) with its size.
Here we have already discovered the tendency for the population to
expand more towards the northwest, the west and the southwest than to
the northeast. Probably to the east of Lake Tondano, except along the shore,
there was still no important settlement. Anticipating a little on the next
subsections, I now want to discuss the difference in population density more
thoroughly.

Comparatively speaking that density was high in the centre of the Mina-
hasa (roughly the area enclosed by the villages Tondano, Kakaskasen, Tomo-
hon, Kawangkoan, Sonder, Langoan, Kakas and the east shore of Lake
Tondano) and in three extensions of this centre to the Bays of Amurang, Tana-
wangko, and Manado respectively, which led to ports with the outside world.
What are backgrounds of the differences in population density ? Coming
from the southwest coast, the oldest known Minahasans found a large and
physically rather united area in and around the centre. Initially they spread
here. Although the younger Minahasan tribes mainly reached the northeast
coast and the southeast, the north and east coasts were no more than
transit areas. In any case for the Tondano people, migration was made
necessary by coastal mortality and also perhaps by piracy. While the Tonsawang
tribe after an unknown number of years turned its back on Tonsea, the
Tondano willy-nilly came under these masters. When Tonsea exerted too
much pressure on the Tondano, fighting broke out, most probably ending
in an uneasy balance of power. Later on commercial challenges and of course
sufficient peace stimulated the expansion of the Tombulu and Tontemboan
people from the centre towards suitable harbours in the western maritime
area. Before the domination and pacification of the eastern Minahasa by
the Dutch, the people of Tonsea (= those who turn aside) were most
closely related to the Tombulu tribe and may have preferred to dominate the
Tondano rather than to expand towards the north. Their living partially
from tribute and their chief way of life may have caused a demographic
stagnation (21).
For further explanation of regional population difference we have to
take into account the fact that for about the first half of the 19th century,
the three southeastern tribes and the Bantik tribe appeared to be rather
backward and to lack a regular annual paddy cultivation. These were not
only younger tribes, but had for a long time been the smallest ones. They
were situated in areas which, in about 1600, formed the southeast and the
northwest peripheries. These people were fully aware of their separate ori-
76

gin and identity. Sources give the impression that these tribes lived rather
secluded lives. They eschewed civilization and had no positive attitude to
innovation. This might largely explain their low population density in the
17th century. In other ways the matriarchal Bantik people differed
strikingly from the southeast Minahasans (22).
On looking over the whole evidence, I should like to put forward a theory
about the demographic change in tribal and regional inequality during the
period 1615-1680.
Table 3 showed three big tribes : the Tombulu, the Tontemboan and the
Tondano. The first opened two doors to the outside world, the second made
its way to a single bay. Most striking however is the large population of
the younger and more interior Tondano tribe. Round about 1620 the
Portuguese noticed that the greatest number of Minahasans lived along the
shores of Lake Tondano. By this area they may have understood the whole
Tondano plateau (including the village of Tomohon !), but in any case the
third big tribe inhabited a densely populated area. Certainly the good
climate of the Tondano plateau was favourable to demographic growth, but
what motivated and enabled the 'slaves of Tonsea' to seize their
opportunities and to develop successfully ? I would put forward three arguments
in favour of a small proportional growth of Tondano from the 1610s to the
1660s, and then look at the possibility of a small proportional fall in
population of the Tombulu tribe between 1642 and the mid-1650s.
First, according to tradition, the Tondano people did not have an easy
time before they were allowed to settle in peace along Lake Tondano. As
they must have been of almost the same descent as the oldest tribes, they
would not have submitted willingly to Tonsea. On the contrary, through
their own cleverness and through quarrels, they expanded their territory
even in the direction of Tomohon. They had probably been strengthened
by the need to overcome initial pressures.
Second, these freedom-loving people, as we will see in the last
subsections, had a relatively high regard for women, though man will remained
at least the first among equals. The Tondano tribe had not much to lose
and probably much to gain in relative status from the replacement of the
Tonsea masters by the Spaniards. People welcomed the missionary
message with its more or less clear notions about liberation, ransom and
redemption. Their positive attitude towards the more advanced religion must have
reflected and stimulated their upward movement. Perhaps Padt-brugge,
who compared the Tondano peasants with the Dutch ones, misinterpreted
the significance of their short form of hair, which may have been a sign
of adaptation to Iberian influences and a sign of progressiveness. The
leanings of the Tondano people towards a sexual equality must have paved
the way for marriages of Spaniards with Tondano girls. All this encoura-
 77

ged, if not a higher birthrate, at least a lower mortality.

Third, the Spaniards were not only politically helpful to the 'slaves of
Tonsea'. They also allowed a more free (indirect) communication with the
western coast for their special friends. True, at least in the middle of the
19th century, the Tondano people cherished their isolation, but they had
no aversion to commerce. I imagine that the extended barter possibilities
would have given some encouragement to Tondano's agriculture and
industry. Probably the barter trade of the Lake people was formely
confined to one or two border villages like Tataaran, where peasants from
Tondano and Tomohon met and exchanged surplus and specialized products
(for example fish and pots against salt and important articles). Now a new
inducement to economic growth facilitated a new demographic growth (23\
In contrast to this the Tombulu tribe, which was expanding and
powerful in the early decades of the first 'colonial' period, fought at least after
1641 against the Spaniards. If we apply Graafland's characterization to the
17th century, we see that this tribe was more powerful than the Tonsea
and Tontemboan ones; it was strong and firm, sturdy and hard-working.
I realize that the Tombulu had much to defend from the Spaniards and from
the people of Bolaang, with whom they had no nuptial ties. They could not
become emancipated nor climb in status by marrying their daughters to
the Spaniards. During the years 1642-1644 and during the early 1650s, when
the Spaniards did not behave respectfully, the Tombulu men took up arms
and sacrified at least a part of their population (growth) on the altar of
honour (24).
Between 1655 and 1680 the numerical relationship between the
Tondano tribe and the Tombulu one may have become stabilized. The first
became unruly, but in the years 1680-1825 the latter did not profit by the
change of overlord.
As for the expansion of the Minahasan population reviewed in this
subsection, I can understand the optimism of the Portuguese missionaries in
the second half of the 16th and the first half of the 17th century. It
indicates the presence of an internal Minahasan dynamic, forecasting the
receptivity of the northeasternmost Sulawesians for further population growth
and for other development (25\

2.2 Economy
When we turn from the demography to the economy of the Minahasa,
of course most emphasis has to be placed on agriculture.
The Minahasans practised shifting cultivation and by the 16th century
they kept a rich livestock of, in particular, pigs and hens <26). Then came
the collection of wood products, fruits and vegetables, some hunting and
78

fishing (only in lakes and rivers) and the making of palm wine, sago, salt,
bast clothes and pots. Probably sugar was only made for sweets. Of course
people invested an important part of their labour in the building of their
pile-dwellings, in which sometimes only a few but often 5 to 9 households
lived together (except when people stayed in their field cabins). Along Lake
Tondano particularly there were some simple wet fields. The variegated
fauna and the rich flora yielded a great many edible products and the forests
contained industrial raw materials, mainly many kinds of trees, for various
purposes @7)#
Until the 16th century the predominant foodstuffs were rice and pork.
The oral traditions of the Tombulu and Tontemboan people tell of the time
in which rice was not yet known in the Minahasa and people ate the fruits
of a climbing-plant. In colonial times only the Tonsawang tribe consumed
sago outside periods of want. The largely undeveloped industry and the
very extensive agriculture both existed at subsistence level. Internal
barter must have been very weak and there were no pasars (markets) at all.
In contrast, the exchange of material goods for status and assistance
flourished inside the subtribes and especially within the villages. As we have
already seen, barter with the outside world was of marginal importance
before the 16th century. There were no regular tributes paid, but
plundering from the outside (by sea pirates and politically motivated intruders)
and from the inside (a result of the continuous quarrels and feuds between
the subtribes and villages) often occurred. Both the sea and Bolaang were
shunned.
Urbanization could not begin under those conditions. From later
sources too we can conclude that in most regions, it was land that was the
abundant production factor and labour that was the scarce one. The labour
however could be capitalized by a system of intense co-operation within the
extended family and increasingly between the villagers. Padt-brugge thought
of the Minahasans as simple peasants, rather laborious and very diligent
in their agriculture. On the other hand in 1875 Edeling stated that before
1679 it was normally enough to cultivate the soil every two years <28).
This opinion seems to be unjustified. Padt-brugge noticed the annual
clearing of new fields, probably in the northwest and in the northern Middle
Minahasa, an area with which he must have been particularly familiar.
Perhaps he overstated the scope of annual cultivation about 1680 (see 2.3),
but we may conclude that the population density of the Middle Minahasa
was founded upon, and in need of, the transition form biennal to annual
cultivation (of new fields). Of course for most areas during the Company
period, annual paddy growing would have been further increased. This
intensification of agriculture was necessary because of the growing popu-
 79

lation and the growing rice requirements of the Company.

Some innovations were introduced by the Iberians. The Portuguese
brought the tomato, the Spaniards the horse and probably cocoa and maize.
In 1671 the Dutch made an attempt to promote agriculture, bringing in
cattle and coconut trees. Apparently these trees were scarce in the
northwestern coastal area, where they are able to prosper easily (29\
Of all these animals and crops, not one became important before the
19th century, except maize. The cultivation of this foodstuff led to the first
modern intensification of Minahasan agriculture and was already
established by the end of the 17th century.

2.3 The beginning of maize cultivation

Some objections may be raised to my statement that maize was
introduced and adopted in the 17th century.
First, in all the sources known to me there is no mention of the
introduction of maize. Possibly this is the reason why the Cultivation Reportthe"
of the Residency Manado for 1857 calls maize «a beloved and probably
oldest crop of this country». Graafland says that maize seems to have been
known in the Minahasa «from early times». When the Dutch came to Manado
(and earlier to Ambon) maize was already known, so we need to study the
Spanish and Portuguese sources afresh. If these sources give no definite
answer, this could be attributed to the fact that maize was of no interest
to the Spaniards as a foodstuff for export, at least not before the 1640s,
when the peaceful times for the Iberians in the Minahasa ended (3°).
Another objection to my opinion is that the Minahasan names for maize,
unlike the Minahasan names for imported animals like the horse and
imported plants like the tomato, seem to be of native origin. The same objection
may be raised to the assumption that in other parts of Indonesia maize was
of foreign origin. There, the most general name for maize is jagung. The
four central tribes of the Minahasa have talende(i) or tande(j). Probably the
only Spanish word which could be related is talludo (= with a long stalk,
strapping); I admit that the etymology of ta(le)nde has still to be solved.
In any case, a native name is no proof of native origin. On the contrary,
it may simply indicate a degree of assimilation into the native tongue, which
seems to be especially applicable to a staple food crop (31).
The broad historical argument in favour of the hypothesis that maize
was brought (from America) in the 16th century by the Iberians, is that
it is stated by almost all the 20th century food and crop authorities whom
I came across. Merrill points out the part played by the Portuguese as well
as by the Spaniards in the diffusion of maize : «It first crossed the Atlantic
from Brazil to Goa in India via the Cape of Good Hope». Maize was known
in the Philippines by 1578 : «in the interim between 1521 and 1565, Spa-
80

nish expeditions from Mexico had visited the Philippines (in 1526, 1527 and
1542). The first introduction of maize might well have been by way of any
of these expeditions, for it was customary for the Spanish-sponsored
exploring expeditions, sailing from America, to take maize seeds with them for
actual planting». Although we might conclude that it was possible for maize
to be introduced in the late 16th century through barter with the Babon-
tehu people, this is not very likely. A better conclusion might be that the
Minahasa was the only Indonesian area where maize became important at
an early date, because it was the only fertile part of Indonesia lying close
to the Philippines (32).
My second argument is that maize was not mentioned by Colin's
informants, who would have described the rather peaceful situation as it
existed up to the early 1640s. Probably knowledge about the economic
conditions was gathered particularly at the beginning of missionary work. This
lack of information about maize is striking because the riches in foodstuffs
and the size of population were specified by them. One is inclined to
suppose that the Spaniards were as successful in the inconspicious
introduction of a suitable crop as the Portuguese were in the striking propagation
of the Gospel. Probably the spreading of the crop was a predominantly Mina-
hasan matter. At any rate in 1682 the Dutch governor of the Moluccas -
Padt-brugge, who had been travelling through the Minahasa - wrote :
«Maize or Turkish wheat and paddy are grown in great abundance by the
inhabitants». Then in 1825 the resident Wenzel said : «The commonest and
most favourite food of the inhabitants is the jagung or Turkish wheat (...).
Rice is served less often, and generally when there are strangers present».
Lastly the Colonial Report for 1862 stated : «The milu (jagung or Turkish
wheat) forms a major element of the diet of the population, while rice is
often used only on festive occasions» (33).
A third argument in favour of the adoption of maize at a time of
emerging secularization (I mean the differentiation between cultic and non-cultic
spheres of life) is the fact that maize never played an intrinsic part in pagan
Minahasan religion, while rice on the other hand was important in rituals.
Even sago played a (minor) role. Maize became not only a favourite food
but also a common one, while perhaps the status of rice may have
increased. So there was an extra reason against the introduction of maize into
religion (34).
My conclusion is the same as that of Hopkins for West Africa :
«According to one school of though, maize was present in West Africa before the
Europeans made contact with America. This is a possibility which has not
been proved, and the balance of evidence favours the view expressed here
that maize was imported from South America» (35). Hopkins' economic
history of West Africa demonstrates clearly that in principle indigenous far-
 81

mers were suprisingly receptive to different new opportunities during and

before colonial times.

The Minahasans may have had various reasons for a quick acceptance
of maize, which involved a real green revolution. The crop fitted well into
the cropping cycle, it made possible a better exploitation of labour, it
lessened the risks of starvation during a failure of the rice crop, and lastly, the
requirement of a rice tribute by the Spaniards could have encouraged the
Minahasans to look for an aditional and alternative food-supply.
What was the agricultural effect of the adoption of maize ? The annual
cropping cycle used by the farmers engaged in shifting cultivation began
(at least in the middle of the 19th century) with the clearing of new fields.
Then maize was usually planted, normally once, during the second part of
the dry season, somewhere between July and October. Harvesting took
place between October and February. If the maize was planted late, paddy
was planted (sown) between it. At any rate, paddy was normally planted
only once and on the same fields as the maize, during the wet season,
somewhere between November and February. It was harvested (gathered ear by
ear with the fingers) between June and August. Especially before the 19th
century, in general the single rice harvest was immediately followed by a
fallow period of several years. Although Padt-brugge does not give a
complete description of the cropping cycle, there is not a shred of evidence
pointing to a diverging pattern in the 17th century.
This means that maize was a 'forecrop', not an 'aftercrop', although just
like the aftercrops or second crops (called polowijo), it was a dry season
one. This extended the cropping cycle, thus saving the need for extra
clearing labour.
From a statement by the missionary Schwarz, the outsider tends to
conclude that the introduction of maize meant that before the 1830s or 1840s
the Minahasa had a cycle of a rather long cropping season, followed by a
'sabbatical year'. He asks «how people in the Minahasa got the rather
irrational division into such a long growing season and such a long time of rest».
His own answer mainly suggests that although formerly there had been
no years of rest, the forcing up of the field offerings made annual
cultivation too expensive. This socio-religious explanation however is not
satisfactory.
In the first place we have the observation of Durr round about 1800
that only Langoan and the southwestern Minahasa beyond the Ranoiapo
river planted rice every second year, that is, only half the Tontemboan
population described by Schwarz. The latter was a missionary's son who
probably grew up in Langoan in the 1830s and 1840s, when christianization
had not yet broken through. In passing, it would be interesting to know
82

what people ate in the first part of the cropping year and in the second
part of the second year. An important characteristic of Old Minahasan rice
was its poor keeping quality - only 6 months. Did people eat a bad quality
rice ? What was the keeping quality of paddy ? Padt-brugge says that
enormous casks were made to store the paddy harvest, while bundles of maize
stalks were hung up under the high roofs of the dwellings, to be smoked
and conserved. Did maize conserve better ? From 19th century
information I tend to conclude that in the old colonial period at least, a part of the
Tontemboans planted more maize than paddy. This could be done either
through double maize cultivation before paddy cultivation in the cropping
year, or through exclusive maize cultivation in the second year on the newly
cultivated fields (36).
Secondly, I agree with Graafland and Edeling that in general people
changed over from biennal to annual cultivation (of new fields) and not the
other way round. In this case there is no special reason to suppose a
historical regress. The escalation of offering dues and extra rest do not fit in
with each other. A return to much lower rice yields in colonial times would
not have been accepted by the overlords. We can conclude that for the
people of Langoan and the far southwestern Minahasa the extension of the
yearly cropping season was chosen as being preferable to the clearing of
new fields in the next year. Schwarz knew that the year of rest was
logically spent on a lot of other necessary activities. In view of these needs,
of the yields and of the distance to Manado, the cycle of the remote Ton-
temboan people may have been a rational one. Most of the extra rice would
have gone to the colonial power, while maize undoubtly benefited the
people itself. All in all we have no reason to suppose that maize contributed
to an irrationalization of agriculture.
Probably the taking of the nutrients from the soil by a previous crop
was preferable to the same happening through a second rice crop, before
the fallow period could restore the soil's reserves. Maize not only required
somewhat different nutrients, but, because it was planted in the moderate
dry season, must have also forestalled the washing out of nutrients by heavy
tropical rains more than a second rice crop on the cleared fields would have
done. Furthermore, with the introduction of maize, the most was made of
the rainfall throughout the year. Thus, by crop rotation, a more effective
exploitation of the cleared field (and also of the labour needed for the very
hard clearing) was possible (37).
Edeling demonstrated quantitatively for the third quarter of the 19th
century that there were fewer harvest risks with maize and that this had
a slightly positive effect on population growth <38). That effect was certainly
greater in the foregoing period, when the high yielding maize was much
more important. Graafland, Holle and other authors have assured us that
 83

Minahasa maize was excellent, and that it clearly yielded more than the
Java variants in the middle of the 19th century.
The average yield ratio for yellow Manado maize, at least in 1875, was
55-165. Some districts had many lands which yielded an average of 220-275.
In 1858 (no abnormal year) the average yield ratio of maize for the
Minahasa was 6,5 times that of paddy on dry fields. In general, lowlands had
a less than average yield but the crop ripened sooner. The high yield ratio
for 'yellow Manado' in the middle of the 19th century may have been
obtained because of the particular importance of maize for the Minahasa.
Probably for more than two centuries the Minahasan peasants had practised
simple maize breeding.
In some respects the nutritional value of maize is better than that of
rice : about 120 % of its protein quantity and more vitamin A (an extreme
shortage of which causes decreased fertility). On the other hand, stamped
maize contains 40 % less vitamin Bl than stamped rice. Because it was
always supplemented by rice, maize became a very valuable part of the
Minahasan diet (39).
To sum up, after the 17th century maize made the feeding of a growing
population possible in spite of the export of more and more rice. Maize
cultivation was an effective consumer of labour and made economic use of the
cleared fields which, compared to the forests and the fallow lying fields,
were scarce. When the Spaniards came to require rice and wood and
probably compulsory services too, the introduction of maize meant that this
burden could be borne.

2.4 Society
In 1872 Riedel gave a hypothetical sketch of Minahasan society in the
17th century. He said that before the introduction of herendiensten
(corvée labour for public works) by the Dutch round about 1669, the Minaha-
sans were a free and independent people. In times of peace, when not
clearing lands and growing crops, they lived withdrawn in the impenetrable
forests. Near to their fortified villages, lying high in the mountains, they
practised hunting including even head-hunting. Their chosen elders were
both experienced and powerful in social and military affairs. Every
decision was decided democratically. In cases of lasting disagreement, if trial
by ordeal gave no solution, the community was rent by a schism. These
schisms encouraged the gradual occupation of the whole country by the
Minahasans.
The peasants from the uplands and the interior were voluntarily bound
by customary rights and duties. The particular rights over land and men
(those of families and villages) were subjected to more general rights (those
84

of the villages and the subtribes). There were no compulsory services. Even
those in pawn had a lot of freedom. People considered it an honour to
render services to others : it helped public security and benefitted the elders
and - on reciprocal terms - each other. That is why the Minahasans had
no word for herendiensten (4°).
Riedel apparently did not take the Spanish domination seriously. Even
when we apply his sketch only to the period before the 17th century, and
particularly to the four central tribes, it seems to contain some
idealization of internal conditions, due to the preoccupation with liberalism in the
early 1870s.
The rest of this subsection is based mostly on descriptions given in the
17th century. The reader should realize that, although many aspects of Mina-
hasan society which were only perceived later could perhaps be projected
back to earlier times, not only the scientific penetration into his society
but also the historical opening up of Minahasan culture was a rather
continuous process. So in spite of partial immutability, in many cases later
observations touched only later situations. Partitions like traditional-modern do
not account for ages of historical reality.
Therefore, although my working method needs more than one forward
and backward glance, I have chosen to carefully separate the historical data.
Through this method people in the long run will be able to follow the
historical rhythm of the Minahasan country and culture with the help of several
interim balance-sheets. Finally, the many facts can be allotted dot a
defined period of time, thus allowing a more integrated method of historical
writing.
Colin, writing in the middle of the 17th century, described the
Minahasans as willing and communicative, although cruel fighters. Padt-brugge,
in 1679, thought of them as a sincere people, open and frank, especially
the upland peasants, who had not been degenerated (like the Babontehu
men). Until the 1650s and 1660s, when the Dutch began to appoint people
as chiefs, the 'village' population was led by chosen elders (not hereditary).
According to Domsdorf, prudence, slyness and power were the major
requirements which a subtribal chief had to possess. This author stated that the
concept of district (a territorial, not a genealogical unity) became current
after the war against the Bolaang intruders and that a Landraad (General
Council) was already functioning under the Spaniards. Of the seven
members, five were Minahasans - the district chiefs of the Manado region (41).
Padt-brugge maintained that one could not call the Minahasans
resolute, because the process of decision taking was a very democratic and so
very slow one, in which gifts of oratory had free play. However, once a
decision was taken, right or wrong, people would not budge. When someone
from one village murdered someone from a different village and a fine had
 85

to be payed, both villages held each other responsible. The smallest feeling
of injustice led to a quarrel, so there were many feuds, often fought out
secretly. In open wars the victors would kill all the vanquished males,
including the youth. The women and children were mostly enslaved and could
be ransomed. When the balance of power was fairly even, impartial subtri-
bes might be able to mediate, and the guilty person or party fined. His sub-
tribe or village had to pay in peasants, in gold (found in Bolaang Mongon-
dow), in other valuables or in slaves. In early Dutch times delegates of the
Company were sometimes sent to arbitrate. They could be successful,
especially when quarrels were unclear and the Company offered textile to the
claimant. In cases of discord in the village, the weakest party often had
to migrate, either founding a new village or going over to another village,
subtribe or tribe.
The only tribes in which Padt-brugge took a special interest were the
Tondano and Tonsea, who were almost arch-ennemies. The Tonsea people
would dam up the water so that the paddy of the swamp sawahs and the
houses in the capital of Tondano became flooded.
Although the Tondano men were called resentful, the governor of the
Moluccas clearly respected them and was interested in their way of life.
In contrast to the other Minahasans, who were said to become polygamous,
they were said to remain absolutely monogamous and to distinguish
themselves from the «adulterous» people through their hairstyle. The people who
became polygamous might have had more wealth, but the faithful Tondano
men enjoyed a higher status. Padt-brugge also noticed that their women
were more adorned. These women were energetic navigators, using small
boats on the Lake to reach the fields and to carry fodder for the cattle.
They also made the best pots in the whole Minahasa.
Padt-brugge disapproved of the situation which was created by an
interpreter, an indigenous official of the Company. He appointed many chiefs
at their request; especially in Tonsea, so that soon chiefs, who were
exempted from compulsory services, outnumbered common people (42).
I now want to turn to questions of social inequality, family and
friendship. The governor of the Moluccas gave no indication of clear class
differences. The status of slaves was not too low, while the chiefs did not form
a separate class. Our observer Padt-brugge was a rather uninterested in
the pagan priests, though he knew that the subtribal chiefs were also priests.
Later sources indicate that priests like the chiefs, who were ranked from
the first chief of the subtribe (or district) down to the lowest chief in the
village, had their own pecking order. Only some priests were exempt from
other labour.
In Padt-brugge' s eyes the recent penetration of polygamy and concubi-
86

nage into society had a corrupting effect on Minahasa civilization. It can

also be seen as an indication of coming societal stratification, based on
wealth. This began to coincide less with official distinctions based on
political and religious authority. Padt-brugge knew of people boasting of their
wealth in rice and of distinguished friends. Thieves and other offenders
who could not repay twofold became the slaves of the victim, even if they
were the slaves of another. We get the impression that although slavery
was still more important in Bolaang Mongondow than in the Minahasa, here
too slaves were becoming more valuable as merchandise. Anyhow, in the
hope of a better position, slaves began to stimulate (arranged) quasi
crimes, so that they could become the slaves of any man who liked to recruit
them. In particular, the Company's interpreter exploited his powerful
position in order to foster this public injustice.
Brides could be bought for cotton textile, old pots, pans, copper and
perhaps porcelain. The governor of the Moluccas did not specify
differences in the dowries between the wealthy and poorer people, probably these
differences were not yet noticeable. Textile, unlike status objects and
heirlooms like pots and pans, became increasingly valued as an object for
barter and as a currency (money in kind) during the Company period. New
households were established with help of friends. The man's friends
provided the house, and his wife's gave the pigs, hens, goats or something
similar. Probably we can see here something of mapalus, the co-operation
institution which is crystallized only in the 19th century descriptions. Was
cooperation on reciprocal terms, outside the extended family unit, still in its
infancy, so that this societalization was not yet noticed ?
The richer the family, the greater the number of households in one
dwelling. The eldest man of the pile-dwelling was the chief of all the other
households (nuclear families) and as such, he had the right to the biggest place.
According to Padt-brugge, equality before the customary law was
jealously guarded. No one was allowed to act apart. Obviously the people of
the interior had already come into some contact with disturbing
influences, but individualization had only marginally penetrated. People were
extremely hospitable. The constant lavish festivities -with much dancing by the
women- must have had a certain redistribution function, consolidating at
the same time stratification and solidarity.
The women played an important part in agriculture and 'home' industry,
co-operating in some of their labour very closely with the husbands. Did
sexual inequality increase after 1680 or was it only that Dutch observation
of it increased ? While Padt-brugge noticed no striking differences between
the sexes, according to 19th century authors, women in general had a rather
lowly position. The only tributaries of the ancient Minahasa, the Tondano
and the Bantik, were also the only people who gave women a relatively
 87

high status. Did these 'slaves of Tonsea' and 'slaves of Mongondow'

preserve their prehistorical degree of equality, or could they have even been
the subjects of early sexual equalization, because of their somewhat
subordinate external position in precolonial times ? (43)
The compulsory services for the Company included the free maintenance
of the Dutch fort, the warehouse and the Company dwelling at Manado,
the construction and maintenance of a bridge or dike near Manado and if
required, other works which were of public benefit. The forced rice
delivery implied the performance of much bearing labour, especially for the
people of the central interior.

2.5 Religion
Before the penetration of Western influence, the Minahasan people had
a (magical-)animistic religion. It involved head-hunting, determining of the
auspicious time and place for agricultural activities, many agrarian rituals
and a lot of fossos (festivities). There was no separate cultic sphere of life.
Magic was apparently more important among the coastal people than
among the upcountry Minahasans. Padt-brugge tells us that only the
former practised charming at birth. Did they feel more threatened by contact
with the outside world of pirates, political power and civilization, which
made recourse to magic more tempting ? Did they assume that there were
fewer possibilities of secular control ? In contrast to the atmosphere of
considerable pressure, force, hierarchy and compulsion among the coastal
people, those of the interior enjoyed an atmosphere of more freedom and
justice, rights and duties, requital and reconciliation. Everything happened
in a more straightforward way.
Because Padt-brugge thought the lowlanders to be more degenerated
and to believe more in magic than the highlanders, I want to dwell for a
moment upon the important regional difference between the lowland and
the highland population. In the Introduction and the subsections 2.1 to 2.2
we saw that formely the sea and Bolaang were shunned, but that later on
the southwest of the Northern, the west of the Middle and the northwest
of the Southern Minahasa became well populated.
In the mid-19th century De Clercq observed that here and there the shore
swamps, because of their damp, formed a demographic obstacle. The
climate too made the lowlander less energetic than the highlander. On
average, coastal people were more slender and weak than those in the
mountains. They were continuously in contact with foreigners and had a more
Malay-like face than their highland counterpart. De Clercq, a Civil Servant
who had been stationed at Amurang for a considerable number of years,
contradicted the repeated complaint that people along the shores had a
lower moral standard. At the same time Graafland noticed that in the
88

upcountry, on good soils and in good years, one might harvest a 60- or
100-fold paddy crop, while the lowlands had top yield ratios of 30 to 60.
This difference (perhaps due to soil as well as to climate) would have been
more or less the same in the 17th century (44).
Can we also apply De Clercq's judgment to the mid-17th century ? At
that time there would have been fewer concentrations of foreign people
than there were two centuries later, when we find a small but notable
number of Gorontalese, Buginese, Ternatans, Sangis, people from Mongondow,
Javanese and Chinese. On the other hand De Clercq may have been
prejudiced because of his position. Anyhow I would assume that the mortality
rate was higher and the birthrate lower in the maritime area.
Returning to the subject of religion, attention should be payed to the
interesting fact that Colin's informants thought the Minahasans not very
superstitious (although they indulged in fortune-telling), whereas early 19th
century authors believed the opposite. Aernsbergen in 1925 however
wondered if by superstition Colin had alluded to afgoderij (idolatry). If
Aernsbergen was right, Colin did no more than underline the lack of profiled
images in animism. Although perhaps later authors were justified in
neglecting the distinction between (absent) superstition and (extant) fortune-
telling, I have reason to suppose an increase in fear after 1680,
accompanied by increased superstition (45).
According to Graafland, deification of ancestors (qualifying a second
religious stage after the time of simple animistic belief in good and evil
spirits, which developed into belief in requital) and the development of
mythology and fetichism were already more or less completed in the precolonial
history of the Minahasa. Even if this 19th century evolutionism is
somewhat objectionable, it is a fact that in the mid-19th century Minahasan chiefs
counted back about twenty generations to reach their first and divine
ancestors. Probably personalized representations of divinity were not entirely
unknown in the Minahasa which was found by the Portuguese
missionaries. They were however still vague and so they could be adapted into
Christianity without causing a development of a religious dualism (46).
As to fortune-telling, this looking to the future must have been
intensely practised, amongst others as a way of overcoming the many
obscurities and inpredictabilities of shifting cultivation.
Padt-brugge said that the Minahasans acknowledged an excelling,
eternal, unchangeable and incomprehensible Being. God and good were more
or less the same. All 19th and early 20th century authors agree that this
belief in an excelling Being was a result of contact with Catholicism. Wen-
zel in 1825 - in the line of Padt-brugge - noticed the late pagan
representation of Muntu-untu (seen as the most High), the son of Mary. According
to Schwarz (the protestant missionary in the Minahasa after 1861), this
 89

Muntu-untu was a judge who rewarded the good and punished the bad, with
separate rooms in his house. Riedel in 1872 believed the representation to
originate in Spanish colonialism. Western jurisdiction too may have
influenced this development.
Anyhow, the introduced sense of an all-embracing divine unity must have
fostered the sense of an all-embracing human unity and thus the receptive-
ness for political integration under the Westerner. Besides, the
personalization and ethicalization of divinity would have guided the individualiza-
tion of social relationships in which pleading was more important than
charming. Good and bad however may have remained rather close concepts,
orientated more towards customs and agreements than towards the
highest good. For example Muntu-untu obviously was not a person who
judged according to principles of moral guilt, righteousness, fairness, mercy
and grace, much less a faithful, loving one.
Yet early colonialism did bring some lasting religious change. The recep-
tiveness for the Gospel was fostered by the need of an advanced world-
view to help the Minahasans to be equal to their task in the late 16th and
early 17th century. It is important here to draw up a balance-sheet for chris-
tianization, because I found no indications of an influencing of Minahasan
religion by Christian concepts and Western presence between 1650 and 1825.
The Dutch did not become active in missionary work in the interior before
the-1820s.-Therefore-I-want-tQ_elaborate the subject further.
After the Christians of the interior reverted back to paganism, the use
of biblical names and names of catholic origin given to people, plants and
objects, preserved the memory of Portuguese missionary work. The
adoption of the name Mamisah (day of mass) for Sunday among the Tontem-
boan and the western Tombulu people indicates a socio-religious change.
For the first time the ideas of a week became familiar (47\
Wenzel and Aernsbergen give the impression that the high esteem in
which the Virgin Mary was held, was the most important remant of early
Minahasan Christianity. The veneration of the great mother was coupled
with awe for her son, a corrupted version of Christ. The first correlated
perfectly with what we have already seen : the protected and glorified
status of women among the Tondano people, who were the only lasting and
intimate friends of the Iberians. The second could mean that the
incorporation of the making of the sign of the cross into paganism was no more
than a magical one. Obviously there was no room for a consolation or
salvage of imperishable, transcendental dimensions. I guess that in the course
of the second colonial period (1679-1817) Muntu-untu took on more or less
the features of the United East Indian Company. Perhaps the Company
was respected as a severe judge and was held as little responsible for the
90

evil deeds of its officials as was the highest god for the evil spirits.
Beside the mediation of the Blessed Virgin, in the 19th century there
was talk of patron gods being invoked. To what extent did these figures,
besides reflecting the missionary message about patrons saints, also have
social or political parallels ? At any rate Minahasan expectations of them
were very materialistic (48).
Round about 1620 the Portuguese discovered that since the early 1570s
the maritime part of far northeast Sulawesi had become strongly
influenced by Islam. They were probably referring not only to strangers but also
to the Babontehu people, even perhaps to the tribes which were under
Bolaang influence. I could not find any remnants of this religious
penetration.
Islam and Calvinism were both rooted in commercial relationships, which
would have been a hindrance to their penetration into a very simple society
with an agrarian democracy. Islam fared better in harbour principalities
and in inland states. Protestantism made no serious contact with Asia before
about the 19th century. Catholicism became accepted throughout the
greater part of the Philippines and the equally tribal Minahasa. These
developments should be reflected in further studies in comparative Southeast-Asian
sociology of religion (49).

Conclusions
We have seen that between the years 1616 and 1659 the Minahasa was
a promising land, at least for the Portuguese (souls !) and for the Dutch
(rice !). The period 1615-1680, which is too short to strike a socio-cultural
and socio-economic balance of profit and loss from the Minahasan point of
view, was dominated by Spanish (semi-)colonialism and was closed by the
earliest 'prehistory' of Dutch colonialism. When drawing a few general
conclusions about the first colonial period of the Minahasa, I shall primarily
pay attention to the Spanish influence.
The paired action of Spaniards and Portuguese must have promoted the
development of the Minahasa. Together, the Iberians covered a broad
spectrum of culture and cultivation. This broad scope was rooted in the fact
that the European mother countries did not differentiate very much
between community and society, religion and economy, agriculture and
commerce, revenue and profit. The Spanish were steeped in a tradition of
conquest and chivalry. In contrast to them the Portuguese were of a more
seaborn and commercial origin; yet in the Minahasa they had to confine
themselves to the winning of souls.
Just as they were in Ceylon (Sri Lanka), the Portuguese missionaries
in the Minahasa were prosperous instruments of christianization.
Conversion may have been rather superficial, yet all levels of culture were tou-
 91

ched and opened by this change. The Spaniards brought maize to Southeast
Asia; their later actions must have fostered the adoption of this new staple
food by the Minahasa. Change was rooted in the young volcanic soil (maize !)
and fostered by the sun of religion (Christianity !). Through a new
administration of justice as well as through the preaching of one God and one
origin of men, Iberian colonialism not only imposed but also stimulated the
unification of the Minahasans. Both the Portuguese preaching of a
historical religion and the Spanish introduction of an agricultural innovation
fostered historical change. From 1617 to about the middle of the 1650s, two
or three missionaries (partially energetic Italians) were continuously
working in the Minahasa. There is no reason to idealize the Spanish-Portuguese
combination, yet we should acknowledge that where they took rice and
wood, they also brought new goods and good news.
The Virgin Mary was represented as the mediatress in the acquiring
of grace rather than as the model receiver of grace. This part of the
missionary message may have been easily adapted into pagan religion, which
acknowledge many goddesses, particularly three more or less identical
ones : the goddess of the Earth, the patroness of Fertility and the
ancestress of the Minahasans, who cultivated the chaotic earth in the beginning
of the 'universe'. I suppose that this Portuguese influence could have
accentuated the difference between men and women rather than have
contributed to integration of the sexes. If the veneration of Mary promoted female
emancipation to a certain degree, sooner or later it may have calmed down
the spirit of progress and re-creation. For as far as the relations between
the Iberians and the Minahasans are comparable with those between male
and female, Mariolatry could have encouraged not only Minahasan self-
assurance (which was already noticeable through the traditional paterna-
lity), but also the ultimate Tombulu resistance against the Spaniards. Here
however I am only speculating (5°).
As to the goods brought by the Iberians, iron may have been one of these.
Colin wrote about the Minahasans in the first half of the 17th century :
« Their greatest wealth is iron, copper and bronze, on which they set great
value». Apparently iron was scarce. Padt-brugge in 1679 said that the
Minahasans made themselves choppers and other agricultural tools : «therefore
they are so greedy for iron; for the cutting edge, instead of steel they mix
pieces of Chinese pans, or other cast iron, which gives a very good and true
result». Godée Molsbergen, without advancing evidence, wrote that under
Iberian colonialism the delivery of wood products was a heavy and hated
work.
Perhaps wood-cutting was fostered by the fact that the Spaniards made
available more iron than was obtainable through pre-colonialism barter. This
might have contributed to agricultural expansion in the Iberian period, for
92

Habib, writing about ancient India, says : «The entire land of the humid
areas was covered by forests and therefore could not be occupied so long
as iron did not come into use wide enough to make extensive clearing
possible». This aspect should be further investigated (51).
As the Dutch had not been able to consolidate their position in the Mina-
hasa before 1679, it would be unfair to compare their specific influence with
that of the Iberians. Yet a few things may be noticed. Although at first
instance the reader of this short history might be inclined to attribute the
first broad description of the Minahasa to a Dutchman, it should be
realized that Padt-brugge was a native of the Southern Netherlands, an area
which had a historical background of a more developed culture than the
Northern Netherlands had in the 17th century. Partly thanks to their
employment of a man like Padt-brugge, the Dutch succeeded in concluding
an important treaty with the Minahasans in 1679. Largely because of its
narrow material interests and partly because of the Minahasan inability
to supply the large quantities of rice demanded by the Dutch, the United
East Indian Company made a rather unimpressive début. Yet the simple,
straightforward, active behaviour of the Dutch, as well as their maritime
power and commercial know-how (more than their occasional agricultural
policy), not to mention the conflict of interest within the Company between
'Batavia' and 'Ternate', helped the Minahasans and the Company get along
with each other <52).

APPENDIX TO THE DEMOGRAPHIC TABLES

Although E deling supposed that the old colonial population returns could not
even be called a rough estimate, I have reason to take the 17th century data as
a serious mainline basis for an estimate of the total number and as a reliable
representation of the numerical relations between the tribes (and subtribes).
This opinion is based upon a comparison of the results of the Padt-brugge's
census with two earlier estimates (which Edeling could not have done), and upon the
numerical position of the Tonsea subtribe. For those acquainted with the situation
of 1800 and later, at first sight the Tonsea share of the population seems to be
improbably weak (just over 1,5 %). Yet sources locate old Tonsea in a rather small region
and also Padt-brugge three times in his reports mentioned the smallness of Tonsea
without raising any doubt to their returned share of the total population (53\
1. Population of the Minahasa, 1615-1678, in absolute numbers
The table for 1615-1854 is presented elsewhere (54\ Here only the 17th century
 93

is dealt with. If we try to establish the size of the population in 1678 we will be
able to look back to 1650 and 1615. Padt-brugge stated that the census of 1678
gave a return of 4 070 weerbare mannen (those capable of bearing arms) for the
nearly contracted Minahasa. He supposed the real figure to be about twice this (55\
Using this as his basis Valentijn made the rough duplication of 8 000 men. This
he multiplied by 3 to arrive at a total of 24 000 inhabitants. Graafland however
believed that the basis figure could be multiplied by 5, so that he came to a total
of 40 000 inhabitants W.
If we equalize the 19th century percentage of werkbare mannen (able-bodied
males) produced by Francis for 1845, with the 17th century percentage of
weerbare mannen, the multiplicator will be 4,7 and the total population for the
contracted Minahasa 37 600 but for the total Minahasa over 40 000 (see comments below
on Table 2).
Probably Valentijn and Graafland made no difference between the contracted
and the total Minahasa ^\
In 1675 the Dutch stated the number of weerbare mannen, probably those of
the nearly contracted Minahasa, to be at least 7 000. In that year 3 000 of them
were brought under direct rule; the other 4 000 being no more than the mobilized
men of those already under Dutch control. On this basis, the total Minahasa in 1675
would have had well over 34 400 inhabitants. Therefore an estimate of 40 000 for
1680 is probably fairly accurate (58\
Colin passes on the missionary demographic information on the Minahasa -
probably based on the situation in the 1640s - which estimates the population to be
30 000 or 40 000 inhabitants. Because of missionary activity in Tonsawang, at least
a part of the Southern Minahasa will have been included in this figure. I conclude
that by 1650, the total population of the Minahasa was about 35 000 (59).
Of course it is possible that the range produced by Colin gives the earliest
estimate (30 000) and the latest one (40 000), and that in about 1615 the Minahasa
numbered about 30 000 inhabitants. Three developments, however, make an estimate
of 27 500 more acceptable. First, there was the rapid spread of maize cultivation.
Second, there was the foundation of new villages and the institution of Spanish
juridiction, the last of which will have contributed to the pacification of the
Minahasa. Third, although there were at least two years of fighting, which limited
population growth, probably neither the Tondano nor the Tontemboan people were
appreciably involved. Apparently, in the years 1650-1680 there was more unrest in the
Minahasa than before (60).
Taking everything into account, a demographic growth of about 27 % over 35
years seems to be a reasonable guess.
2. Population of the major Minahasa areas, ca. 1678, in percentages of the
total Minahasa
As the census of 1678 could not include that part of the Minahasa population
which remained outside the First Treaty, I have had to make a few assumptions.
In 1852 the population percentages for Bantik, Tonsawang and the two
southeastern tribes were 2,75, 2,75 and 5,4 % respectively. On the basis of some indications
for quantitative developments in the second colonial period, the rounded
percentages for 1678 are supposedly 2,6, 2 and 4 respectively; that part of the Bantik popu-
94

lation left outside the First Treaty is 1 % of the total Minahasa population (61).
The percentage of population in the Southern Minahasa (Tonsawang and the
(other) two southeastern tribes) is 2 + 4 = 6 %. In the Northern Minahasa I
included Manado, Aris, Klabat di bawah, Klabat di atas, a quarter of the Tonsea tribe
and half of Bantik.

3. Tribal populations, ca. 1678, in percentages for the Minahasa excluding

the southeast
This table is based on no more than the census of 1678, except for my
conjectural addition which concerns that part of the Bantik population left outside the First
Treaty.
In order to restrict guesswork and to size up the situation for the contracted
Minahasa as accurately as possible, I have excluded the southeast from Table 3.
It will be clear enough that the Bantik percentage is here somewhat higher than
2,6 %.

NOTES

1. For the first argument see Graafland (1898), vol. 1, 75-6; Schwarz (1907), 386; ENI 2
(1918), 735; Hinloopen (1931); Verkuyl (1938), 329. For the second argument see esp.
ENI 2 (1918), 'Minahassische talen'. For an Iberian observation see Aernsbergen (1925),
22. For the third argument see Wallace (1870), 449; Verkuyl (1938), 359-60, supposes
some mixture of Spanish in Tondano blood and is critical of seeming resemblance to the
Japanese, while Bik (1864), 164, notices the striking light skins of the Minahasans in 1825;
cf. Koorders (1898), 99; Kol (1903), 294-5; Sarasin (1905), 41; Kornrumpf (1935), 86.
Compare in general with Heekeren (1972), 67. We should realize that Wallace was a friend
of Darwin, that Kornrumpf reflected more or less a modern determinism (racism) and
that Verkuyl may have reacted against the economic penetration of the Japanese in the
Minahasa in the 1930s.
2. Graafland (1898), vol. 1, 76-80; Riedel (1872, 2), 469-70; Verkuyl (1938), 359. My spelling
is mostly based on ENI and adapted to later general spelling revisions.
3. For examples of divisions see Domsdorff (1930), 345-7. For the striking split of Tonki-
but' into the subtribes Kawangkoan and Sonder round about 1750, see Schwarz (1907),
192-3; in 1679 Sonder (Lower Tonkibut) was alreay distinguished from Kawangkoan (Upper
Tonkibut), see Godée (1928), 55; according to Riedel (1869), 509, Tonkibut originally was
another name for Tontemboan (or Tonpakewa). There is only a partial correlation
between subtribe and customary law, and between descent and language (remember the
Tonsawang tribe). For interdistrict migration in the old colonial period see e.g. Riedel (1872,
2), 480.
4. Godée (1928), index; cf. ENI 1 (1917), 'Badjo'. For the contemporary sea gypsies see e.g.
Hove (1978).
5. Riedel (1869); Godée (1928), 6-9, 41; Aernsbergen (1925); Valentijn (1724-1726). Schou-
ten (1978), vii, records the (in my opinion) debatable view that the people of Manado Tua
fled from the Dutch to the Sangi Islands in 1673. Schwarz (1907), no. 110 (cf. p. 373),
explains why the Minahasans were an agrarian people; on p. 126 he seems unconsciously
 95

to demonstrate that the Minahasans or at least the Tontemboan people lacked

commercial slyness. For their living in retirement see subsection 2.4 of the main part of this
article. For 16th century political structures in the proper Moluccas see Leur (1955), 141-3.
6. Pelras (1977), 228-9, 236; Godée (1928), 6, 8.
7. Aernsbergen (1925), 8-12; Riedel (1869), 514. Atlas (1938), 10, is not correct about the
Minahasa.
8. Aernsbergen (1925), 12-7; Godée (1928), 9; Riedel (1869), 507, 519-20, 523.
9. Aernsbergen (1925), 8, 15-29; Graafland (1898), vol. 1, 82-3; Riedel (1869), 514-6; Clercq
(1870), 522-3, 538; Wiersma (1871), 213; Wilken (1863), 133 (Did the Spaniards amongst
others violate the marriage taboos mentioned here ?); Godée (1928), 8-9, 12-4. The last
does not prove his statement that the Spaniards made themselves hated by demanding
the delivery of wood products from the mountains.
10. Godée (1928), 9, 18-20; Mangindaan (1873), 365; Riedel (1869), 515.
11. Aernsbergen (1925), 14-26 (the number of 5 000 (p. 28) will be a misprint; about the
religious studiousness of the Minahasans see p. 22).
12. Aernsbergen (1925), 17, 25; Godée (1928), 11-9; Leur (1955), 128; Riedel (1869), 506, 510.
Burger (1975), vol. 1, 26, is not correct for the Minahasa. According to Godée (1928),
29-30, 41, only in the mid-1660s did the Minahasans finally exchange the overlordship
of the king of Manado for Dutch direct rule, after the king (whose former seat of
government was the northwestern coastal village of Kima) had deserted the Company at the
beginning of the Dutch war with Makassar. For divergent identifications of Kali, cf. Godée
(1928), 9, 14, with Graafland (1898), vol. 1, 83.
13. Godée (1928), 18, 21, 41-2.
14. Godée (1928), 14-87; see p. 66 for the large rice stocks which appeared to be present in
the upcountry.
15. Godée (1928), 18, 24, 62, 66-9, 175.
16. Godée (1928), 14, 17, 29-33. For rice prices 1655-1825 see Wigboldus (1978).
17. Godée (1928), 53-8. The general meeting came to be called Landraad (General Council).
The Dutch gave the name Minahasa (= Alliance), first for the general meeting and then
soon for the country, since the end of the 18th century. This name, or 'Mahasa', was already
given by the Minahasans to the alliance of the three oldest tribes when they fought against
Bolaang. See for these names Godée (1928), 7, 53; Riedel (1869), 512; Reinwardt (1858), 583.
18. Colin in Aernsbergen (1925), 21-2; Padt-brugge's survey of 1682 in Godée (1928), 59-67;
his penetrating description of 1679 in Padt-brugge (1866), 304-31. Valentijn (1724-1726)
is mostly non-original work.
19. Geertz (1963), ch. 2 and pp. 105-13; ENI 4 (1921), 200, 205; Volker (1928), 25; Breman
(1963), 267; Tennekes (1963), 334-7; Joustra (1923), 83; Burger (1975), 9; Graafland (1898),
115.
20. Aernsbergen (1925), 21; Graaff (1856), 24-7.
21. For arrivals on the north and east coast see Graafland (1898), vol. 1, 77, 79-80.
22. Godée (1928), 156-9; Graafland (1867-1869), vol. 1, 226, and chapters 14, 20; Terra (1953),
307.
23. For hairstyle see Graafland (1867-1869), vol. 2, 261. For the Tondano people see vol. 1,
200, 286, and vol. 2, 112-3, 214; for their clever expansion see Riedel (1872, 2), 554; Ede-
ling (1919), 14. For Tataaran see Graafland (1898), vol. 2, 131.
24. Graafland (1867-1869), vol. 1, 67, 131-2. For the influence of chief Supit and for the
foundation of new villages with Iberian authorization, see Domsdorff (1930), 345. For a more
extensive discussion of historical developments at tribal and subtribal level see
Wigboldus (1978).
96

25. For oral tradition see Domsdorff (1930), 345-7. For Tontalete see Godée (1928), 60. For
the size of the southeastern districts see Godée (1928), 139; Wiersma (1871), 205, tends
to rely on a speculation by Valentijn, but see Riedel (1872, 2), 555. For Minahasan
settlement in the southwest 1680-1694 see Godée (1928), 96, 103. 1 came too late across Wawo-
runtu (1892) and Jasper (1916) to judge and use these records of oral tradition.
26. About livestock see Aernsbergen (1925), 21.
27. For information on wet fields see Godée (1928), 64.
28. For the origins and prehistorical development of rice cultivation see Schwarz (1907), 244-5;
Graafland (1867-1869), vol. 1, 149-50; Wilken (1863), 317-20. For biennal cultivation see
Graafland (1867-1869), vol. 1, 46-47, Edeling (1919), 45-6. For sago see Graafland
(1867-1869), vol. 2, 55; the Colonial Report for 1853 - see 'Verslag', 1855-1856, states
incorrectly that sago was the main food of the Minahasans.
29. For the tomato see Schwarz (1907), 381. For the horse, cattle and coconut tree see Godée
(1928), 8, 29, 65. For the cocoa see Jansen (1861), 242.
30. The Cultivation Report for 1857 is found in Inventaris (1977), nos. 181, 235. See also
Graafland (1898), vol. 1, 151; Veer (1948), 113. Interesting source publications, which
I could not study for the 1978 paper, are Sa (1954-1957) and Wicki (1948-1964). For the
development of my ideas on maize after 1978 see Wigboldus (1979) and my definite
history of the Minahasa before c. 1850 (in preparation).
31. Verr (1948), 113; Graafland (1898), vol. 1, 151, and vol. 2, Mi (cf. bdii : Kamantes ton-
dej); Koorders (1898), 126, 182.
32. Dr H.K. Roessingh went through the draft of the 1978 paper and drew my attention to
Merrill (1954); the quotations are from pp. 261 and 365 respectively, but see also p. 229.
For other evidence see Veer (1948), 111-3; Spencer (1966), 193; Grigg (1974), 26, 30, 34,
64, 87; Burger (1975), vol. 2, 43. For differing opinions about the origin of maize
cultivation see besides Merrill also Sturler (1863), 573-4; Wigman (1885), 80.
33. Quotations successively come from Godée (1928), 66; Riedel (1872, 2), 495; 'Verslag'
(1864-1865), 1146. Clercq (1873), 262, may have misinterpreted the discourtesy of
serving maize to strangers.
34. See e.g. Schwarz (1907) and Wilken (1863); cf. Burger (1975), vol. 2, 34.
35. Hopkins (1973), 30. For 'South America' should be read 'Latin America'.
36. For 19th century maize cultivation in the Minahasa see Graafland (1898), vol. 1, 151-2;
Edeling (1875), ch. 2, sec. 2; Schwarz (1907), 255; Riedel (1872, 2), 540; Clercq (1873),
261. For Schwarz's question see Schwarz (1907), 267. Dûrr and Padt-brugge were
quoted in Godée (1928), 66, 159-60. For conservability of maize see Sturler (1863), 603, and
Inventaris (1977), no. 181.
37. For the rational use of soil reserves see Veer (1948), 141.
38. Edeling (1875), ch. 5, sec. 1. For positive demographic effect of maize consumption see
also Sturler (1863), 615-6.
39. Graafland (1867-1869), vol. 2, 56, 68; (1898), vol. 1, 152, 155; Holle (1869), 400; Sturler
(1863), 611-2; Veer (1948), 143; Edeling (1875), ch. 2, sec. 2. Inventaris (1977), nos. 20
and 55 contain the Cultivation Report of the Minahasa for 1858, which gives an average
yield ratio of over 230 for maize and of almost 36 for paddy on dry fields (almost 40 on
wet fields).
40. Riedel (1872, 1). For the next paragraphs cf. Blok (1977); Schouten (1978), 25, 30, about
inequality in the precolonial Minahasa.
41. Aernsbergen (1925), 21-2; Domsdorff (1930), 352, 356. Although my data for this
subsection could be connected with socio-political evolutionism, I am not yet very interested
in such a study. Too much energy is spent to the forcing of complex realities at any cost
into old catchwords (like tribal society, primitive communalism, Asiatic mode of produc-
 97

tion and feudalism)

information for the period
or newer
up ones
to 1825,
(likeishorticultural
broad enoughsociety
to allow
andfor
chiefdom).
valuable comparisons.
Besides, only
42. For migration after the time of Padt-brugge see Riedel (1872, 2), 480. For Tondano see
Godée (1928), 64-5; Graafland (1867-1869), vol. 2, 261, however saw short hair as symptom
of a new fashion; cf. Wilken (1863), 318.
43. For family and agriculture in the past see Edeling (1875), ch. 1 and 2 (including
evolutionary speculation). For the enlargement of the dwellings in case of marriage see
Domsdorff (1930), 354. For oral tradition on prehistorical mapalus see Graafland (1867-1869),
vol. 1, 94. For the position of women in the mid.-19th century, see Graafland (1867-1869)
vol. 2, 62, 112, 261-2, 266; Riedel (1872, 2), 494. For increasing and decreasing inequality
in cultural evolution see Wigboldus (1971); especially on the relation man-woman 1680-1825
see Wigboldus (1978).
44. Clercq (1873), 256-9. For yield ratios see Note 40.
45. Aernsbergen (1925), 22; Reiwardt (1858), 565, 602; Riedel (1872, 2), 488, 496, 511; Pie-
termaat (1840), 118, 133; Spreeuwenberg (1846), 48. For attack by the famous Indian
king Ashoka on ceremonies held as a result of superstitious beliefs, see Thapar (1966),
88. For increase of fear cf. Aernsbergen (1925) and Padt-brugge (1866) on the 17th
century, with Riedel (1872, 2), Reinwardt (1858) and Graafland (1867-1869) on the first half
of the 19th century. Only after the finishing of this subsection I came across Tauchmann
(1968).
46. Graafland (1867-1869), vol. 1, 136-41. For religious dualism or the strained intermingly
of different traditions see e.g. Geertz (1960) and Evers (1968).
47. Aernsbergen (1925), 22, 28-30; Graafland (1867-1869), vol. 1, 96-100; Riedel (1872, 2),
490-2, 557; Schwarz (1907), 240, 371-3. Schwarz must have known both Langoan (where
he grew up) and Sonder (where he worked as a missionary) best. For 'excellent Being'
cf. Lenski (1970), 134.
48. For the attitude towards Mary and the cross see Aernsbergen (1925), 19, 29 (my
argument on Mary is partly based on the Minahasan memory of the rosary in the 19th
century); Graafland (1867-1869), vol. 1, 96. For patron gods see Domsdorff (1930), 350;
Graafland (1867-1869), vol. 1, 93.
49. For the distinction between inland states, harbour principalities and tribal people, as well
as for Southeast-Asian religious change, see Wertheim (1968), 424-8. 'Tribal' is a rough
collective noun; for the Philippines see Steinberg (1971), 27.
50. For Italian missionaries see Aernsbergen (1925), 18-21, and Vlekke (1947), 101. For
Minahasan goddesses see Schwarz (1907), 241, 373-4. For Mary as the mother of Muntu-untu
see Riedel (1872-2), 492. For patrism and matrism see Taylor's rather a historical theory
(1954).
51. Aernsbergen (1925), 21; Padt-brugge (1866), 325; Godée (1928), 9; Habib (1963), 60.
52. For more information about the introduction of maize into Indonesia see Wigboldus (1979).
For the development of my approach to regional history of tropical areas in early post-
Columbian times, see Wigboldus (1986).
53. For Edeling's opinion see Edeling (1875), ch. 5, sec. 1. For the locating of old Tonsea
see Godée (1928), 134; Domsdorff (1930), 345-6; Edeling (1875), 33-4. For Padt-brugge
on Tonsea see Godée (1928), 64-5; Padt-brugge (1866), 313.
54. See Wigboldus (1978).
55. Godée (1928), 60-1.
56. Valentijn (1862), vol. 1, p. 201; Graafland (1898), vol. 1, 115.
57. Francis (1859), vol. 3, 281.
58. Godée (1928), 32.
98

59. Aernsbergen (1925), 21.

60. Even as late as 1664 the Spaniards planned to fortify the extreme northwest coastal
village of Kima; Godée (1928), 22, 41.
61. Godée (1928), 60; Bleeker (1856), 98-109.
62. Godée (1928), 60.

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ENI Encyclopaedie van Nederlandschrlndië, 2nd edition, 4 volumes 1917-1921
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KT Kolonial Tijdschrifi.
TBG Tijdschrifi voor Indische Taalr, Land- en Volkenkunde.
TKNAG Tijdschrifi van het Koninklijk Nederlandsch Aardrijkskundig Genootschap.
TNI Tijdschrifi voor Nederlandsch Indie.

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