Demystifying Muarajambi
Candi Muarajambi is one of the largest Buddhist temple compounds in the world. Built by a former civilization, the complex continues to intrigue scholars from various disciplines.
If one were to fly low over the north of Jambi in Sumatra every 800 years, the view of the landscape below would reveal jarring changes. In the sixth century, the most obvious sight would be the scattered, dark orange structures of clay bricks, a contrast to the carpet of dark green tropical rainforest, alongside the Batanghari River, busy with trading boats. But by the 14th century, what was visible on one’s previous flight would already have been engulfed by the surrounding forest. And now, in the 21st century, the landscape has fundamentally changed again, scarred by roads, infinite grids of palm oil plantations, and zinc-roofed houses lining the banks of the Batanghari River. Today, however, the vast and dispersed structures known as the Muarajambi Temple Complex, have reappeared.
This poses multiple questions. What happened? Who ruled this land? With whom did they come into contact? Why did communities settle in such an inhospitable swamp? What changed?
There’s no conclusive evidence about who was responsible for the construction of the Buddhist temples of Muarajambi. The only clues lie in Javanese stone inscriptions and modern archaeological techniques. Under the management of Jambi’s cultural preservation agency, charcoal and clay brick samples were sent to a lab for carbon dating—revealing that civilization in Muarajambi may have existed as early as the sixth century, which coincides with the rule of the ancient Melayu kingdom. Most bricks sampled originated in the ninth to 10th centuries, at the height of Srivijaya—a maritime kingdom—under Balaputra.
By the 14th century, with the demise of the Srivijaya, and the relocation of the capital of the Malay kingdom to today’s Dharmasraya Regency, nature quickly took over. Muarajambi remained buried for almost a millennium until its first rediscovery during an English river patrol along the Batanghari River in 1824.
Today, the Indonesian Government is tasked with restoring Candi Muarajambi, thought to be one of the largest Buddhist temple compounds in the world at 10,000 acres (4,000 hectares) and stretching 4.6 miles along the Batanghari River.
Dr. Junus Satrio Atmodjo, 68, an Indonesian archaeologist, spearheaded one of the earliest excavation projects at Muarajambi in 1990. He recalls: “To the left and right is a dense rainforest. The riverbanks were host to Bugis settlements, where they made pinisi sailboats, sourcing wood from the myrtle trees in the forest. Silvered leaf langurs were aplenty. I was able to see Sumatran elephants swim across the Batanghari River. During durian [a large pungent fruit] season, people would ask us not to go outside as honey bears would crack the durians themselves. It was romantic back then.”
The original defensive qualities of Muarajambi were encountered firsthand by Dr Atmodjo and his local team as they tried to explore one of Muarajambi’s oldest temples, Candi Koto Mahligai, which means “great fortress.” They had to cut through the forest before they met a creek. To cross to the other side, they had to walk waist-deep through the water, emerging from the creek with a legion of leeches sucking blood from any uncovered parts of their bodies. All this to find a hill with structures buried beneath.
Today, a bridge enables people to cross straight to the temple of Candi Koto Mahligai. Since 2023, Kurnia Prastowo Adi, 39, who works as restoration coordinator, has assembled a team of 140 people. For months, Adi’s team sifted through the soil that covers the clay bricks layer by layer, collecting evidence of earlier human activity. All day, they would gather bricks before reconstructing the original buildings, as other workers sketched, photographed, and identified each piece.
They found a monastery smothered by 235 trees, ranging from huge langsat trees (Lansium domesticum) to pohon kundru (Tetrameles nudiflora) flowering plants. Taproots had forced their way into cracks in the mossy clay bricks of what had originally been a cetiyaghara, or temple, leading to a mandapa—a square pavilion designed for meditation. Lab tests have subsequently shown the bricks to have been locally sourced.
“We don’t cut the trees down. We try to combine both the preservation of cultural heritage and the ecosystem,” says Adi.
In 2024, Muarajambi was allocated 650 billion Indonesian rupiah (U.S. $42.2 million) for its restoration and revitalization work. The work on Candi Koto Mahligai was finished by the end of September 2024, and the conservation work continues at Candi Sialang, Candi Alun-Alun, Candi Parit Duku, as well as at ancient ponds and canals. So far, 115 menapo (potential temple sites) are yet to be excavated and restored.
Once finished, these restored temples will join the other temples and monasteries that have been fully renovated, such as Candi Gumpung, Candi Kedaton, Candi Astano.
Muarajambi was not merely a local religious site; it was a center of learning and exchange, drawing scholars and monks from China, India, and beyond. Chinese philosopher I-Tsing came to translate śloka, a Sanskrit text of Indian epic poetry. The inscription on the Nālandā copper plate told how Devapāla of the Pala Empire granted permission to Bulaputradewa—then the reigning king of Śrīvijaya in Suvarnadwipa (Sumatra)—to build a Buddhist monastery in Nālandā, India.
Layers of evidence of religious and economic activities have been unearthed in various temple sites: Indian-influenced bronze statues of Buddha’s head, pieces of ceramics from the early Chinese Tang dynasty, and roof tiles. Muarajambi was often thought of as a mahavihara, an ancient university, as well as a lost civilization. Today, its cultural heritage includes the 30,000 Muslim majority within the eight villages in Marosebo and Taman Rajo districts, whose collective memory, passed down through generations, maintained Muarajambi’s relevance to the area.
The question is, will these local communities be able to continue this in future?
Competition for land in Muarajambi has historically been intense, exacerbated by the fact that the temple compound sits on top of a natural levee, leaving limited space for farming. New industries, such as shipbuilding, coal, palm oil, and plywood, have started breaking ground. In the 1980s, palm oil was especially popular as farmers could harvest the oil every two weeks, once the trees were five years old. The local government granted permission to these new industries in a bid to increase local revenues.
But these industries have gradually become a direct threat to the conservation of Muarajambi’s temple compound. Candi Bukit Perak—also known as Bukit Sengalo—the famed meeting place of Buddhist philosophers Dharmakīrtiśrī and Atiśa, stands surrounded by a palm oil plantation.
In the village of Kemingking Dalam, Candi Teluk I and II sit right next to a coal stockpile by the Batanghari River. Much of the coal is lignite, whose ash affects the inherently brittle clay bricks. It’s also tricky to visit; tourists and conservationists either cross the river with a boat or take the longer route, queuing with the coal trucks.
Reflecting on these environmental threats, Dr. Atmodjo recalls: “We used to have plenty of clown knifefish (locally known as belida), giant freshwater stingray, carnivorous wallago catfish, freshwater prawns, hornbills, and thousands of parakeets. Even wild boars. All gone, in just 30 years.”
To maximize Muarajambi’s full potential, conservation efforts require collaboration with and consistent support from the local government. The current head of Jambi’s cultural conservation department, Dr. Agus Widiatmoko, 55, says a synergy between Muarajambi, environmental agencies, and the local government is required, which presents a major challenge.
“We are supposed to have policies that support restoration, especially if we are vying for UNESCO World Heritage status. We must find a win-win solution, perhaps relocating the coal stockpile and sorting out palm oil concessions.”
Every year Muarajambi hosts Vesak, an important celebration that commemorates the birth, enlightenment, and death of the Buddha, with monks and pilgrims coming from other parts of Indonesia, Tibet, and China. Tourism has a powerful role to play, but it’s vital that local people feel involved and engaged in Muarajambi’s past and present, too.
“The first thing to do is ensure that locals have a sense of belonging. They have been part of Muarajambi for over a thousand years,” says Dr. Widiatmoko. “They are the owners. They ought to feel its benefit and not stand by and watch.”
Local communities from the eight villages around Muarajambi are being encouraged to act as cultural custodians. Aside from participating in restoration, local people are being trained in business. Local gastronomy focused on fish from the Batanghari River is being promoted. Serving local produce from the forest is a priority. Village members are encouraged to visit other parts of Indonesia and abroad to learn more about the tourism trade, so they can apply it back in their own villages.
Dr. Widiatmoko draws a lesson from the Borobudur temple. “Local villagers haven’t felt the full benefits of the increase in tourism in Borobudur,” he says. “I hope Muarajambi won’t be seen as a mere tourist site, but as a center of learning of ancient culture and civilization.”
With a new museum underway, Muarajambi is set to be a center of knowledge, inviting researchers to study botany, architecture, anthropology, and archeology.
Dr. Junus Satrio Atmodjo concludes: “There is no such thing as pribumi (native) here. Muarajambi has played a key role in the evolution of civilization in its geographical region. It may appear a little different from other places, but it also has similarities. These similarities reveal all the interactions that took place. We can say that we are an open society. We all learn, borrow, and give from each other’s ingenuity.”
