Animating Myths to Protect Ecology

From 2008 to 2015, the Indonesian government began construction to transform the Jatigede area in Sumedang Regency, West Java province, into a reservoir, claiming that the development would increase the country's electricity needs and facilitate a new hydroelectric power plant.

Today, the reservoir has displaced 45,000 residents who have lost their houses and livelihoods, eradicated 1,389 hectares of forest land, which has irrevocably impacted local flora and fauna, and decimated 33 cultural reserves. Many residents also continue to demand clarity around the unpaid compensation from evictions.

Seven years after the sinking of the Jatigede area, former residents still often visit during low tide when traces of their previous homes emerge. They reminisce about their hometown or attend to the graves of their family members who could not be relocated upon eviction.

Since the Dutch colonization of Indonesia, the construction of reservoirs along Cimanuk River has been eagerly sought after by each consecutive government, and equally eagerly contested by local communities. Even during the years of Dutch colonization in 1812, Jatigede was targeted to be the largest reservoir instalment in the area. During this time, the Sundanese traditional belief of Uga11Uga is an oral tradition of prophecy that has been passed down from ancestors to future generations as a guiding tool. foretold the myth of Keuyeup Bodas (“white crab” in Bahasa). The story tells of the white crocodile who wanted to build a reservoir in Jatigede as a gift to the woman he loved, but was stopped by the white crab, who anticipated the ecological destruction the reservoir would bring. The two creatures fought; the white crab emerged victorious and the crocodile vowed that his descendants would continue to pursue the endeavour. As such, the white crab also promised to return and destroy any reservoir that was built. In contemporary times, many of the local community believe that if the Jatigede area is waterlogged, it will awaken the angry Keuyeup Bodas.

Uga’s Keuyeup Bodas prophecy of ecological destruction has not only materialized, but also aligns with current geological research; geologists have raised concerns about the activation of tectonic plates caused by an infrastructure as large as a reservoir in the Jatigede area, which would result in a catastrophic earthquake. When the planar fractures of the villages of Baribis, Lembang, and Cimandiri are traced and joined on a map, the drawing forms arches resembling a crab—further supporting the predictions of Uga.

Myths have long existed as part of traditional belief systems across Indonesia, offering local wisdom. Passed down from generation to generation, myths can change and evolve with time. They are able to express, uplift, instill trust, protect, strengthen morality, ensure the efficiency of rites, as well as provide practical and philosophical guidance. Western colonial systems of power and knowledge have diminished the understanding of and faith in myths within Indonesian communities.22See anthropologist Anna Tsing’s book Friction, which studies the productive interactions of global connections. As a case study, Tsing describes the community-based conservation and protection of the rainforest in Indonesia in the 1980s and 1990s. She writes: “Corporate growth seemed unaccountably chaotic, inefficient, and violent in destroying its own resources. Stranger yet, it seemed that ordinary people—even those dependent on the forest for their livelihood—were joining distant corporations in creating uninhabitable landscape.” Anna Lowenhaupt Tsing, Friction: An Ethnography of Global Connection (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2015), 2. Through myths, we can better engage in surrounding events and respond to the forces of nature. There are several myths that work to sustain the environment and human life, as well as foster harmony between us and nature.

For four months, we lived in Jatigede and collaborated with former residents to gather materials related to hometown memories and local traditions submerged by the reservoir. The collection resulted in The Myth of Tomorrow, a research-driven art project that animates Uga’s myth of Keuyeup Bodas to protect local ecologies.

During our residency we met with a local shaman, another displaced Jatigede resident, to learn more about Uga’s prophecy and how the kingdom of Keuyeup Bodas was formed. In Jatigede, shamans are known as trusted heads of the community who lead rituals and traditional events. They are often believed to be people who can bridge the human world with the spirit world. In our meeting, the shaman was able to communicate with King Keuyeup Bodas who expressed his anger toward the reservoir and plans to destroy it with his army.

Informed by this encounter, we staged a press conference, declaring the return of the Keuyeup Bodas Kingdom. Our “action” intentionally mirrored a speech given by the Indonesian president at the opening ceremony for the reservoir in 2015.

Additionally, we made an installation of a gate symbolizing the entryway into the Keuyeup Bodas Kingdom. By scanning a QR code, members of the public could access a website to explore a three-dimensional digital rendering of the mystical kingdom and the ruins of contemporary Jatigede. Our intentions for The Myth of Tomorrow were to strengthen the memory of Uga and elevate the archives of citizens as collective monuments, and invite community members to reflect on the destruction of the Jatigede area.

By reconstructing memories from the residents' archives and Uga to form a website, we re-imagine how the local Jatigede community used traditions, namely myths to protect the environment from damaging developments starting from the Dutch East Indies era until their eventual displacement.

Amid the issue of evictions being covered up by the government, the website also provided a voice and memory space for the local people to voice their resistance through Uga, as well as open wider access for the public to know that developments that destroy the ecology continue to grow and that these evictions can happen to anyone.

Western colonial power structures continue to undermine other modes of knowledge and practices. By animating and elevating the truths and wisdom of local myths and amplifying the voices of our community members through personal and collective archives, we can better protect and defend our ecologies.