The mysticism of concrete things in that island of mystery which
is Java!... Outwardly the docile colony with the subject race,
which was no match for the rude trader who, in the golden age of his
republic, with the young strength of a youthful people, greedy and
eager for gain, stout and phlegmatic, planted his foot and his flag
on the crumbling empires, on the thrones which tottered as though
the earth had been in seismic labour. But, deep in its soul, it was
never subjected, though smiling in proud, contemptuous resignation
and bowing submissively beneath its fate; deep in its soul, despite
a cringing reverence, it lived in freedom its own mysterious life,
hidden from western eyes, however these might seek to fathom the
secret--as though with a philosophic intention of maintaining before
all a proud and smiling tranquillity, pliantly yielding and to all
appearances courteously approaching--but deep within itself divinely
certain of its own views and so far removed from all its rulers'
ideals of civilization that no fraternization between master and
servant will ever take place, because the difference which ferments
in soul and blood remains insuperable. And the European, proud in
his might, in his strength, in his civilization and his humanity,
rules arrogantly, blindly, selfishly, egoistically, amidst all the
intricate cog-wheels of his authority, which he slips into gear with
the certainty of clockwork, controlling its every movement, till to
the foreigner, the outside observer, this overlordship of tangible
things, this colonizing of territory alien in race and mind, appears
a masterpiece, a very world created.
But beneath all this show the hidden force lurks, slumbering now and
unwilling to fight. Beneath all this appearance of tangible things the
essence of that silent mysticism threatens, like a smouldering fire
underground, like hatred and mystery in the heart. Beneath all this
peace of grandeur the danger threatens and the future mutters like the
subterranean thunder in the volcanoes, inaudible to human ears. And
it is as though the subject race knew it and were leaving matters to
the latent force of things and awaiting the divine moment that is to
come if there be any truth in the calculations of the mystics. As for
the native, he reads his overlord with a single penetrating glance;
he sees in him the illusion of civilization and humanity and he
knows that they are non-existent. While he gives him the title of
lord and the homage due to the master, he is profoundly conscious of
his democratic, commercial nature and despises him for it in silence
and judges him with a smile which his brother understands; and he too
smiles. Never does he offend against the form of slavish servility;
and, with his salaam, he acts as though he were the inferior, but he is
silently aware that he is the superior. He is conscious of the hidden,
unuttered force; he feels the mystery borne upon the surging winds of
his mountains, in the silence of the secret, sultry nights; and he
foresees events that are as yet remote. What is will not always be;
the present is disappearing. Dumbly he hopes that God will lift up
those who are oppressed, some time, some time in the distant advent
of the dawning future. But he feels and hopes and knows it in the
innermost depths of his soul, which he never unlocks to his ruler,
which he would not even be able to unlock, which always remains an
indecipherable book, in the unknown, untranslatable tongue in which
the words indeed are the same but the shades of meaning expressed
by them are different and in which the manifold hues of the two
ideals show different spectra: spectra in which the colours differ
as though given forth by two separate suns, rays from two separate
worlds. And never is there the harmony that understands; never does
that love blossom forth which is conscious of unity; and between
the two there is always the gap, the chasm, the abyss, the distance,
the width whence looms the mystery wherefrom, as from a cloud, the
hidden force will one day flash forth....
So it was that Van Oudijck did not feel the mysticism of tangible
things.
And the serene life, as of the gods, might well find him weak and
unprepared....