Latest / Majapahit: The Empire That Once Ruled Indonesia — Fexingo History / Majapahit's Candi Panataran: The Temple That Tells an Empire's Story
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked a lot about Majapahit's capital, Trowulan, and its water canals and ironworking. But today I want to take us a bit to the southwest, about 40 kilometers from Trowulan, to a place that really shows the empire's spiritual and political heart: Candi Panataran. It's actually the largest temple complex in East Java, and it wasn't just any temple — it was a state temple, a kind of royal chapel for Majapahit, especially during the reign of Hayam Wuruk. Luna: I've heard of Panataran — it's that big temple with all the Ramayana reliefs, right? Lucas: Exactly. And it's not just one temple — it's a whole complex spread over several hectares, with three main courtyards. The earliest parts date back to the 12th century, even before Majapahit, under the Kediri kingdom. But Majapahit really expanded it. The Negarakertagama mentions it as a key site for royal rituals. Mpu Prapanca himself described a visit by Hayam Wuruk in 1359, where the king performed a ceremony called the 'sraddha' — a ritual for the souls of ancestors. Luna: So it was like a dynastic temple, connecting the king to his ancestors? Lucas: Exactly. And the reliefs tell that story too. The main temple, called the 'Naga Temple', has these incredible bas-reliefs of serpents — nagas — winding around the base. Nagas are water spirits, guardians of the underworld, but also symbols of fertility and kingship. Then there's a smaller temple with reliefs from the Ramayana, and another with scenes from the Sudamala story — that's a Javanese tale about the purification of the witch Durga by the hero Sadewa. Luna: Wait — Sudamala? That's the one where Sadewa exorcises Durga, right? Lucas: Yes. And that's interesting because the Sudamala story is uniquely Javanese, not found in Indian versions. It shows how Majapahit blended Hindu mythology with local traditions. The reliefs at Panataran are carved in a distinctive style — figures are more elongated, with a calm, meditative expression, and the background is filled with floral and geometric patterns. It's very different from, say, the more dynamic reliefs at Candi Prambanan. Luna: That makes sense — Prambanan is Central Javanese, from an earlier period. So Panataran represents the East Javanese artistic peak? Lucas: Exactly. And one of the most fascinating reliefs at Panataran is a panel that shows the forging of a keris. It's a rare depiction of a blacksmith at work — you can see the forge, the hammer, the anvil, and the empu — the master smith — shaping the blade. And standing nearby is the sun god Surya, who in Javanese mythology is the patron of metalsmiths. That panel alone tells us how sacred the keris was to Majapahit. Luna: I remember you mentioned the keris in an earlier episode. But seeing it carved in stone — that's a whole other level. Lucas: Right. And the temple complex also has a structure called the 'Bima and the Buta' reliefs — Bima, the strong Pandava from the Mahabharata, is shown wrestling a giant, a buta. It's thought to represent the triumph of order over chaos. That theme — cosmic order, dharma — is central to Majapahit's self-image. They saw their empire as a force for stability in the archipelago. Luna: How did the temple survive the Paregreg civil war? I know that conflict was brutal. Lucas: That's a good question. Panataran seems to have survived largely intact, though there are signs of damage and repair from that period. The Paregreg pitted Wikramawardhana against Bhre Wirabhumi, and the war ravaged much of East Java. But Panataran was probably protected because of its sacred status. In fact, there are inscriptions from the early 15th century — after the war — that mention tax exemptions and land grants for the temple, suggesting it continued to function. Luna: So it was a kind of neutral ground? Or did the royals from both sides still use it? Lucas: It's likely both sides used it. The temple was dedicated to the god Shiva, but also incorporated Buddhist and local elements — it was a unifying symbol. After the war, when the empire was weaker, the temple gradually declined. By the 16th century, as Islam spread in Java, it was abandoned. But it was never destroyed — it was just left to the jungle. Dutch archaeologists rediscovered it in the 19th century, and restoration began in the 1920s. Luna: I've seen photos of the naga balustrades — they're stunning. The way the serpents coil around the stairs... Lucas: Those are iconic. The naga balustrades flank the stairways leading up to the main temple platform. Each naga has a crown and a jewel on its head, and they're carved in high relief, almost three-dimensional. The style is very refined — it's considered some of the finest stone carving in Indonesia. And interestingly, the nagas face outward, as if guarding the temple from evil forces. Luna: That reminds me — you know, these deep dives into specific sites like Panataran are exactly why I love this show. It makes history feel tangible. And it's totally ad-free, which is rare. I've been thinking — for anyone who's gotten value from these conversations, even a small contribution helps keep it going. A couple of dollars a month is genuinely what keeps these going — buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo, if you've gotten something out of them. Lucas: Yeah, it really does make a difference. So, back to Panataran — there's also a structure called the 'pendopo', an open pavilion, that was likely used for gatherings or dances. And scattered around the complex are dozens of stone linga and yoni, symbols of Shiva and Shakti. It must have been a busy religious center, with priests, dancers, and pilgrims coming from all over the empire. Luna: And all this was happening while Trowulan was the bustling capital. Lucas: Exactly. Panataran was the spiritual counterpoint to the secular power in Trowulan. The kings would process out there for major festivals. In fact, the Negarakertagama describes a grand ceremony where Hayam Wuruk, accompanied by his ministers and the royal family, traveled to Panataran to honor the gods and his ancestors. It was a public display of piety and authority. Luna: Did the temple have any connection to the famous Bhinneka Tunggal Ika motto? Lucas: Indirectly. The motto comes from the Kakawin Sutasoma, a poem by Mpu Tantular, which was written around the same period. Tantular may have even been connected to Panataran — we don't know for sure. But the spirit of religious tolerance that the motto embodies is reflected in the temple's mix of Hindu and Buddhist elements. For instance, there's a statue of a bodhisattva alongside Shiva and Durga images. Luna: So Panataran was a place where different traditions coexisted. Lucas: Yes. And that's what made Majapahit unique. The temple's architecture also shows a blend of indigenous Javanese and Indian influences. The tiered roof of the main shrine, for example, resembles a meru — the sacred mountain — which is a pre-Hindu Javanese concept. So it's not just a copy of Indian temples; it's a local interpretation. Luna: I've read that some of the reliefs have been damaged by weathering and even by people taking pieces. Is that true? Lucas: Unfortunately, yes. Over centuries, some reliefs have worn down, and in the 19th and early 20th centuries, a few panels were removed and taken to museums — like the bathtub relief now in the National Museum in Jakarta. But the majority are still in situ. Conservation efforts are ongoing, though funding is limited. It's a UNESCO tentative site, but not yet inscribed. Luna: So it's a bit of a hidden gem — not as famous as Borobudur, but just as rich. Lucas: Exactly. And if you ever get to East Java, it's a must-see. The setting itself is beautiful — the temple sits on the slopes of Mount Kelud, a volcano that has erupted multiple times. In fact, the temple was buried under volcanic ash after a major eruption in 1586, which helped preserve the reliefs. It was only excavated in the 19th century. Luna: So the volcano both destroyed and preserved. That's a poetic end for a temple that embodied balance. Lucas: It is. And that balance — between chaos and order, destruction and creation — is at the heart of Javanese philosophy. Candi Panataran stands as a stone record of how the Majapahit Empire understood its place in the cosmos.