The Naval Bombardment and Declaration of War was the opening phase of the Aceh War, spanning from the arrival of the Netherlands-India Government Commissioner’s squadron on the roadstead of Atjeh on 22 March 1873 through the formal declaration of war on 26 March 1873 and the subsequent abortive negotiations that ended on 1 April 1873. The entire episode — the ill-judged anchoring of the Dutch warships within cannon-shot of the shore batteries, the dispatch of Sidi Tahil as intermediary, the exchange of unsatisfactory letters with Sultan Mahmud Shah, and the ultimate rupture of diplomacy — set the pattern for the First Expedition’s failure and ultimately for the far larger Second Expedition that followed.

Arrival of the Squadron and the Unhappy Anchoring

On 22 March 1873, the Government Commissioner Vice-President Nieuwenhuizen arrived on the roadstead of Groot-Atjeh aboard {{HMS Citadel van Antwerpen}}, a steam frigate commanded by Captain-Lieutenant J. W. Binkes. The flotilla had departed Batavia on 7 March, stopped at Riouw, where the gunboat {{HMS Coehoorn}}, commanded by Lieutenant J. J. Engelvaart, joined the squadron, and called at Pinang on 16 March, where the steamship {{HMS Marnix}}, under Captain-Lieutenant A. Rietveld, was already awaiting orders. The Commissioner’s staff included his secretary, H. J. Canter Visser; the Controleur first class Th. E. R. Kraaijenhoff, who was the officer for relations with the native states of northern Sumatra; and several interpreters and native assistants, among them Sidi Tahil, a merchant of Priaman long experienced in Groot-Atjeh trade; Datoe Setia Aboe Hassan, a Malay who had recently accompanied the Acehnese embassy from Riouw back to Atjeh; Toekoe Mohamad Arifin, a Bencoolen-born descendant of the old ruling family of Moko-Moko, who had served the Dutch consulate at Singapore; and the interpreters A. Von Kockritz (Acehnese) and C. J. Dias (Malay).

Instead of anchoring at the customary roadstead well offshore — as was normal practice and as courtesy to the sultan required — Binkes brought the ships to anchor only two or three cable-lengths from the western shore, directly opposite a trio of old fortifications along the beach. The position had been chosen because it was the closest point to the Kraton of the Sultan, but it bore an unmistakably threatening character. Nieuwenhuizen later admitted that this aggressive posture had been deliberate: he and Binkes had both believed that immediate bombardment might be desirable to deny the Acehnese time to prepare, and the close anchoring was consistent with that belief. The Commissioner even telegraphed from Pinang on 17 March asking the Governor-General Loudon for permission to open hostilities at once, to which Loudon replied that he was authorized to act as he saw fit, even beyond his written instructions, and that the Governor-General would bear responsibility for the consequences.

Sidi Tahil’s Mission and the First Letter

Within an hour of anchoring, Nieuwenhuizen dispatched a letter to the Sultan. The Dutch officials, fearing that a ship’s boat manned by European sailors might be molested, chose to send the letter via Sidi Tahil, who travelled in a prauw crewed by Acehnese boatmen from a vessel they had intercepted. Sidi Tahil was towed by a steam launch as far as the river mouth and then paddled upstream to Kwala Tjangkoel, where he met Malilla, another Priaman man married to an Acehnese woman and living in Maraksa. Malilla guided him through the lagoon to Maraksa, and thence to the kampong Djawa, where Toekoe Nek, the panglima of the XXV Moekims, resided. From there, escorted by the Panglima Dalam, he entered the Kraton, where the Sultan — described as a young man of approximately seventeen years of age — received him without honours in the balei (audience hall), surrounded by some eighteen mantries (court officials).

Sidi Tahil handed the letter to the Sultan, who opened the envelope and passed it to one of his officials, instructing Sidi Tahil to return to the kampong Djawa, where the royal answer would be sent. Sidi Tahil ventured to express hope that the matter between the Sultan and the Government would end well, but the mantries grew angry at his presumption; one told him the Sultan should not listen to him, and the Panglima Dalam escorted him out of the gate. He lodged with his friend, the Arabian merchant Ali Bahanan. The next afternoon, the Panglima Dalam delivered the Sultan’s written reply, written in Malay, which contained none of the requested clarifications. Nor did the answer address the offer of a reciprocal salute that Sidi Tahil had been instructed to convey verbally — that the Dutch would salute the Acehnese flag with twenty-one shots, if assured of a return.

According to the later testimony of Toengkoe Kali, the Sultan’s father-in-law and acting bandhara, given in Batavia while staying at the home of Councillor of the Indies Levysohn Norman, the arrival of the letter via Sidi Tahil created a poor impression. Sidi Tahil, he said, behaved clumsily. When the conversation turned to the question of what flag would be flown, Sidi Tahil allegedly remarked — unprompted — that the Acehnese flag could continue to fly, but under the Dutch flag. This statement aroused such indignation among those present that they nearly attacked him, and Toengkoe Kali had to intervene to protect him. Van Swieten later judged that the letter would have been better delivered by a European official — Kraaijenhoff had offered to carry it himself — but that the Commissioner, influenced by the alarming reports gathered at Pinang, deemed the risk to individual lives too great. In so doing, Van Swieten argued, Nieuwenhuizen spared a few individuals at the cost of exposing thousands to greater peril.

The Second Letter and the Sultan’s Evasive Response

On 24 March, Nieuwenhuizen dispatched a second letter to the Sultan, again carried by Sidi Tahil. On the same day, Toekoe Mohamad Arifin and Datoe Setia Aboe Hassan also sent letters, with the Commissioner’s knowledge, to Toengkoe Kali Malikoel Adil, who returned a reply of little significance.

Sidi Tahil, fearing the Atjeh river, which was now full of armed Acehnese, dared not enter it directly. Instead, he went to Kwala Tjangkoel and found Malilla there. Malilla took him through the lagoon in his prauw to the shore, then guided him on foot to the Missigit of Maraksa, where several chiefs of the XXV Moekims were assembled. He gave the manifesto to one of them and was told to wait. He went to Maraksa, then to kampong Djawa, where Toekoe Nek received him. From there, again escorted by the Panglima Dalam, he entered the Kraton and was brought before the Sultan, who this time received him without honours. The young monarch opened the envelope, gave the letter to a mantrie, and told Sidi Tahil: “Tokoe, go back to the kampong Djawa; there I will send my answer.” Sidi Tahil again hoped aloud that matters would conclude peacefully, but the mantries grew angry once more.

On the banks of the river, Sidi Tahil observed large numbers of armed men carrying rifles, lances, and klewangs (swords). At the river mouth, workers were continuously fortifying the shore. Captain Binkes of the {{HMS Citadel van Antwerpen}}, reconnoitring along the coast on 24 March in a steam launch, had also noted that a regular camp had formed on the eastern bank of the river mouth, which he estimated at 500 men — no women or children visible. The captain of the {{HMS Marnix}}, reconnoitring to the west, similarly observed growing numbers of armed Acehnese gathering along the beach.

In the Commissioner’s second letter, it was noted that the Sultan was clearly preparing for war by assembling armed men along the shore. The Sultan replied — Van Swieten recorded — that the reason his subjects walked armed along the beach was because the ship on which the Government Commissioner was situated had anchored very close to the shore, not at the customary place, and the people, having never seen such a vessel, were curious to observe it from closer by. The Sultan also observed that he had greeted the Indies Government from shore with a salute of twenty-four shots, but had received no return salute from his “friend.” Nieuwenhuizen replied that this salute had not been heard on the roadstead, and that in 1871, the {{HMS Marnix}} had plainly heard the Sultan’s salute from the same distance. Furthermore, Captain Binkes declared that even had a salute been fired from shore, it was doubtful whether notice would have been taken, since it was contrary to custom for the nation on whose roadstead a warship anchored to fire first; and, moreover, the distinguishing sign that the salute was for the Netherlands-Indian Government — the hoisting of the Dutch flag — had been entirely absent.

The War Declaration of 26 March

On 26 March 1873, the Government Commissioner, finding that the Sultan’s letters contained none of the requested clarifications and were evasive, resolved to declare war. The following manifesto was issued aboard {{HMS Citadel van Antwerpen}}, lying before Groot-Atjeh:

“The Commissioner of the Government of the Netherlands-Indies for Atjeh:

Considering that upon the Government of the Netherlands-Indies rests the obligation to protect the general regulations of trade and shipping in the East-Indian Archipelago against hindrance;

That those interests have been continuously damaged by the mutual disputes and hostilities of the statelets subordinate to the realm of Atjeh, some of which have repeatedly invoked the protection of the Netherlands-Indian Government;

That the repeated representations from that Government to bring such a state of affairs to an end and to create a well-established understanding with Atjeh have always been met with the unwillingness and complete indifference of the rulers of that realm, and with their powerlessness to maintain order in the subordinate territories;

That those efforts have even been answered with egregious treachery at a time when the Netherlands-Indian Government, with the most benevolent intentions, had placed itself in closer relations with Atjeh;

That the Sultan of Atjeh, having been expressly asked for clarification first by his letter of the 22nd and then by that of the 24th of this month, has not only wholly failed to provide it but has not even contradicted the grievances brought against him and has moreover proceeded to arm himself for war in the most conspicuous manner;

That no other meaning can be attributed to this than that Atjeh has wilfully insulted the Government of the Netherlands-Indies and wishes to maintain itself in the hostile position thereby assumed;

That the rulers of that realm have thereby rendered themselves guilty of breach of the treaty of trade, peace and friendship concluded between it and the Netherlands-Indian Government on 30 March 1857, and it has thus been proven that no reliance can be placed on the good faith of those rulers;

That it is therefore no longer possible for the Government of the Netherlands-Indies, without vigorous measures, to ensure a state of affairs demanded both by the commercial interest and by the requirements of its security in northern Sumatra;

Declares, by virtue of the power and authority granted to him by the Government of the Netherlands-Indies, in the name of that Government, war upon the Sultan of Atjeh, of which he furthermore gives notice to all whom it may concern, and reminds everyone of all possible consequences flowing therefrom and of the obligations resting upon every citizen of the State in wartime.”

Sidi Tahil carried this document to the shore, again via Kwala Tjangkoel, where Malilla warned him that they wanted to kill him. On foot, they went to the Missigit of Maraksa, where he found some chiefs of the XXV Moekims. He gave the manifesto to one of them with a request to hand it to the Sultan, and returned to the ships.

The Failed Ultimatum and the Rupture of Negotiations

The following day, the Commissioner received yet another letter from the Sultan, in which the Sultan wrote that he would give a definite answer on the day after tomorrow (28 March) and that he desired no war but a friendly relationship. Unwilling to neglect anything that might promote a peaceful solution, Nieuwenhuizen postponed the commencement of hostilities and sent the Sultan one final letter, through Malilla, granting an extension until noon on 29 March for a decisive answer. He added that he would not yet proceed to hostilities if the Sultan ensured that the armed men left the beach, that all work on the existing fortifications ceased, and that no new batteries were constructed — this condition to be visibly fulfilled by daybreak on 28 March.

When, on the afternoon of 27 March, the armed gatherings along the shore and the work on the fortifications continued, the {{HMS Citadel van Antwerpen}} fired a warning shot at the eastern fortification near which the ship lay. When the following day the conditions were not met, the {{HMS Marnix}} fired a dozen rounds with pointed shells, upon which the enemy ceased work. But in the afternoon, they resumed, and the {{HMS Citadel van Antwerpen}}, {{HMS Marnix}}, and {{HMS Coehoorn}} reopened fire, driving off the workers.

On 29 March, when the Sultan’s deadline had expired, the {{HMS Citadel van Antwerpen}} and {{HMS Marnix}} threw several grenades in the direction of the Kraton, as indicated by Sidi Tahil. Throughout that day and the next, the warships fired intermittently at the shore fortifications. In the late afternoon of 30 March, yet another letter arrived from the Sultan, expressing the wish that his land not be devastated. The Commissioner immediately replied, once more demanding a categorical answer, modifying the expectations regarding reinforcements from Batavia, and making clear that the cessation of hostilities depended on the Sultan’s response.

On 31 March, the {{HMS Citadel van Antwerpen}} made a voyage toward Pedropunt. The firing continued intermittently. On the morning of 1 April 1873, the Sultan sent yet another letter of highly insignificant content, again containing no declaration regarding the ultimatum. The Commissioner, understanding that the Sultan sought only to拖延 (delay) matters, resolved to break off all further negotiations so long as the Sultan did not comply with the stated demand. This was communicated verbally to the bearers of the letter, and from that point forward, nothing more was heard from the Sultan.

The path to peaceful settlement was now closed, and the decision of this important affair was left to the uncertain chances of war.

Van Swieten’s Criticism

Lieutenant-General Van Swieten, who authored the account from which these events are drawn, offered a thorough critique of Nieuwenhuizen’s conduct. He argued that the negotiations of March 1873 had been conducted too hastily and through inappropriate intermediaries. He contended that Toengkoe Kali — the Sultan’s father-in-law and the acting bandhara — had been favourably disposed toward the Dutch, and that a personal meeting with a European official, especially Kraaijenhoff, who had offered to carry the letter himself, might well have produced a different result. The Sultan, Van Swieten argued, had lacked not the will but the courage to defy the sagie chiefs, foremost among them Panglima Polim, who understood perfectly well that Dutch sovereignty would mean the end of their own independence.

Van Swieten further observed that the question of the flag — the Acehnese flew the Turkish flag of the red half-moon on white, adopted when Sultan Alauddin placed his realm under the Ottoman Sultan Selim I in 1562 — was a matter of deep historical and religious significance to the Acehnese, and that this difficulty could have been deferred to a more convenient time. He pointed to the ease with which Troemon later exchanged its flag for the Dutch one as evidence that time and prudent policy could achieve what seemed impossible at first glance.

The central conclusion of Van Swieten’s analysis was stark: “Probably the war would not have come if the negotiations of March 1873 had been better conducted.” He laid the blame for the unnecessary resort to arms not on the Acehnese but on the Dutch failure to employ proper diplomatic channels and proper forms of courtesy — failures that, in his judgment, offended both morality and the principle of utility.

See Also

Source

De waarheid over onze vestiging in Atjeh, door den Luitenant-Generaal J. van Swieten, Adjudant des Konings en Staatsraad in buitengewonen dienst. Boekerij van het Koloniaal Instituut, Zalt-Bommel, Joh. Noman en Zoon, [1879], pp. 1–34 (Inleiding), pp. 35–60 (Hoofdstuk I).