Readers of modern Indonesian Qur’an translations will encounter the basmala formula rendered as “Dengan nama Allah Yang Maha Pengasih lagi Maha Penyayang” (lit. “With the name of Allah, the Most Loving, the Most Caring”). This translation has become so widely accepted that most Indonesian readers likely take it for granted.

However, more meticulous and curious readers might wonder: the words raḥmān and raḥīm look similar, so why are they translated into two distinct terms in Indonesian?

This is a perfectly valid question, as both words stem from the same root, r-ḥ-m, which signifies “tenderness of heart.” How are these two words different, and do pengasih and penyayang truly capture the essence of raḥmān and raḥīm?

Turning to history might shed some light on this question. In the 16^th century Malay interlinear translation of ʿAqāʾid al-Nasafī, raḥmān is translated as “yang maha murah” (“the most generous”) and raḥīm as “yang mengasihani hamba-Nya dalam akhirat” (“who cares for His servants in the hereafter”). A similar translation appears in Tarjuman al-mustafīd, written by ʿAbd al-Raʾūf al-Sinkīlī in the 17th century. With these two examples, it’s reasonable to assume that this translation was quite common during that period.

Figure 1 The translation of basmala at the opening line of ʿAqāʾid al-Nasafī. Source: al-Attas (1988).

But how does the older translation of raḥmān and raḥīm differ from its modern counterpart? One thing is clear: in their morphological forms, raḥmān and raḥīm carry a superlative nuance of r-ḥ-m and the two translations convey this sense with the word maha (lit. “great”). For now, let’s set that aspect aside.

The contemporary translation closely reflects the general characteristics of the genre of Qur’an translations, which according to Johanna Pink (2020), typically prioritises the source text over the translator’s ideas or extra textual explanatory materials.

Whether pengasih accurately corresponds to raḥmān and penyayang to raḥīm remains an open question. However, the translator in this instance has rendered each word in the source text with a single word in the translation, demonstrating an effort to remain faithful to the original text.

On the other hand, in the older variant of the translation, raḥmān is rendered as “maha murah” (“the most generous”). This version is also trying to be faithful to the source text, albeit using a different diction from the contemporary translation. As a side note, this translation endured for quite some time; even Ahmad Hasan in the 1920s used the same rendering, though with the prefix pe-, resulting in pemurah (the generous).

However, with raḥīm, the translator introduces extra-textual material, rendering it “yang mengasihani hambanya di akhirat” (“who cares for His servants in the hereafter”).

If the translators of the older version sought to remain faithful to the source text, their option would have been to find another term in Malay that is morphologically related to murah. It’s possible they couldn’t find one.

However, another likely scenario is that the translators were fully aware that both words are bound to specific meanings in the scholastic tradition of Islamic thought. As names of God, these words carry a particular significance that goes beyond the literal meaning suggested by their etymology.

Indeed, within the scholastic tradition the commonly accepted meaning is that raḥmān refers to Allah’s mercy towards believers and non-believers in this world, while raḥīm refers specifically to His mercy towards believers in the hereafter.

It is likely that the translators of ʿAqāʾid al-Nasafī and Tarjuman al-mustafīd were drawing on this understanding. Since raḥīm carries a more specific meaning than raḥmān, they chose to provide a more explicit translation for the former, one rooted in the tradition of Islamic thought. Searching for the corresponding Malay words for each Arabic term in the source text is certainly their objective. However, in some other cases, they could not overlook the scholastic meaning.

Three centuries have passed, and contemporary translators seem quite comfortable with pengasih and penyayang. For one thing, kasih-sayang, the root of pengasih and penyayang, is an idiom widely used in Indonesian. Contemporary translators may have perceived raḥmān and raḥīm as two words of an idiomatic expression in Arabic, much like kasih-sayang in Indonesian.

But, have they disregarded the scholastic meaning?

I suspect the answer is yes in this case. They have 'conceded' to the demands of the genre of Qur’an translation and set aside the scholastic interpretation.

Qur’an translators in Indonesia today remain closely connected to the Islamic scholastic tradition and are aware of the nuanced semantic connotation of raḥmān and raḥīm.

However, because these subtle meanings cannot be fully captured by the available vocabulary in Indonesian, and given the need for translations that are concise, efficient, and highly readable (as seen in the official Qur’an translation of the Republic of Indonesia), they have settled on pengasih and penyayang.

I refer to them as having ‘conceded’ because I do not believe they currently view pengasih and penyayang as the ‘new home’ for raḥmān and raḥīm. In other words, kasih and sayang have not been infused with the semantic nuances of raḥmān and raḥīm.

Likewise, I also believe that most Indonesians would see kasih and sayang as interchangeable. Therefore, the change in contemporary translations may also suggest that raḥmān and raḥīm can be used interchangeably. While in older versions ‘mengasihani’ (a word derived from kasih) was the translation for raḥīm, in the contemporary version ‘pengasih’ is used as the translation for raḥmān. This, however, is not something that the scholastic tradition would allow. However, it is not an issue in the contemporary translation, because they have ‘conceded.’

I suspect the concession in this case relates to the idea of ‘distance.’ In ʿAqāʾid al-Nasafī, the translation maintains a very close relationship with the source text, following an interlinear format. In contemporary translations, however, the translation is positioned at a greater distance, which has a noticeable impact on the expectation for translators to remain faithful to the scholastic tradition.

Proximity to the source text reflects a strong connection to the scholastic tradition, the original ecosystem of the source text. In contrast, the distance from the source text in contemporary Qur'an translations is intended to reduce the gap between the text and its audience. This highlights a difference in priorities between preserving the ecosystem of the source text and engaging with the readers.

 

References:

Al-Attas, Syed Muhammad Naquib. The Oldest Known Malay Manuscript: A 16th Century Malay Translation of The ʿAqāʾid of al-Nasafī (Kuala Lumpur: Department of Publications University of Malaya, 1988).

Lukman, Fadhli. The Official Indonesian Qurʾān Translation: The History and Politics of Al-Qur’an Dan Terjemahnya. 1st ed. Vol. 1 The Global Qur’an (Cambridge, UK: Open Book Publishers, 2022).

Pink, Johanna. “The ‘Kyai’s’ Voice and the Arabic Qur’an; Translation, Orality, and Print in Modern Java.” Wacana 21, no. 3 (December 2020): 329–359.

 

This text fits the basic visual characterisation of interlinear translation, namely that the translation is written between the lines of the source (Ricci 2014; 2016). Figure 1 shows that the line is spaced out to allow the translation to hang diagonally below the original Arabic text. However, when seen closely, not every translation hangs below the particular Arabic word that it renders. This line is the opening sentence of the text, which includes a reference to God with a few of His names or attributes. The translation for al-bārī (“the Creator”) is written in two diagonal lines “lagi menjadikan” (“who creates”) and “segala makhluk” (“all creatures”), with the latter positioned beneath the next word, al-mu‘min (“who provides security”). Furthermore, the translation for al-mu‘min (“who provides security”) itself, which is “lagi menyentosakan(?)” (“who bestows tranquillity”), is moved further left below the next word, al-muhaymin (“final authority, guardian”), and is combined with the translation of that word, namely “lagi memelihara” (“who cares for”). The text, thus, displays a ‘distant-interlinear translation’, being an interlinear translation that does not hang directly beneath its corresponding word.

Aglaia Iankovskaia (2023) observed this distant-interlinear feature in another copy of the same text (Leiden MS. Or. 7075). MS. Or. 7075 is a copy from MS. ML 341 kept in the National Library of the Republic of Indonesia. Additionally, there is one other digitised copy with Aceh provenance available on the EAP platform. Each of these manuscripts displays this ‘distant-interlinear translation’ at some point. Could it be that this feature is quite common in Malay manuscripts?

Another important observation from this manuscript is that it demonstrates that the translator did not consistently pursue the smallest detail of Arabic grammar and syntax in translation. Such meticulous attention to the details is what makes interlinear translation associated with word-for-word translation and literalism. This manuscript, however, shows that the words of the translation are organised into a coherent sentence that can be comprehended on its own. Even without the original text, the translated version, although it may not sound entirely natural and idiomatic to modern readers, is still understandable. It is tempting to assume that the interlinear translation in this text works at the level of the phrase, but combined with the aforementioned distant-interlinear feature, I would say that the translation works at the sentence level instead.

With the distant and sentence-level translation, the text might be taught to students at the elementary level of their surau education, while they had not yet learned to read an Arabic text. The provided example clearly demonstrates that translation in this text is not only put at a distance from the specific word it renders, but that it is also frequently placed beneath a different word. This format may not be suitable if students were expected to connect each word of the original text with its corresponding translation. Additionally, with the translation that works at the sentence level, students were invited to understand the text in its Malay version. We can imagine the translation and original text standing alone, but they are stitched together on paper because they were read in the classroom.

This way, this text is comparable to the layout of the printed Qur'an translation in early twentieth-century Indonesia (see Fig. 2), where the Arabic text occupies the half-right side of the page, while the Malay/Indonesian translation occupies the other half. The audience for this Qur'an translation was the new growing Muslim intellectual class who had a Western education and was unfamiliar with Arabic (Pink, 2017). The inclusion of the Arabic text—and thus the Arabic recitation—in both layout formats apparently serves as an indication that the text's authority lies in its original form rather than in any translated versions. The distinction between the readers of our manuscript and those of the printed Qur'an translation lies in the fact that the surau students who read this manuscript would go on to read and translate the actual Arabic text later in their education.

 

Fig. 2. The Quran translation of the Ministry of Religious Affairs (1965) that follows the popular parallel layout of Quran translation since the early 20th century. 

The available descriptions of interlinear translation provided by scholars, combined with the traditional pesantren or surau model of oral translation of Arabic texts that still exists today, have led me to believe that interlinear translation is a highly complex enterprise. A further consequence of this perception is the notion that interlinear translation bridges the language of the original text, Arabic, to the language of the translated text, in this case Malay, in a way that is intended for learning the original Arabic text, and hence, learning Arabic. It is therefore not surprising that Iankovskaia, in her analysis of MS. Or. 7075 and MS. ML 341 concluded that these texts combine moral education for students as well as an Arabic language education. However, the text discussed in this blogpost does not fully attest to this complexity, leaving us to consider a more nuanced description of this tradition, including its role in Arabic language learning.

 

References:

Iankovskaia, A. (2023) ‘Between translation and commentary: an interlinear text from the collection of Snouck Hurgronje’, Archipel, 106, pp. 89–124. Available at: https://doi.org/10.4000/11wu6.

Pink, J. (2017) ‘Form Follows Function: Notes on the Arrangement of Texts in Printed Qur’an Translations’, Journal of Qur’anic Studies, 19(1), pp. 143–154. Available at: https://doi.org/10.3366/jqs.2017.0274.

Ricci, R. (2014) ‘Story, Sentence, Single Word: Translation Paradigms in Javanese and Malay Islamic Literature’, in Bermann, S. and Porter, C., A companion to translation studies. Chichester, West Sussex: Wiley Blackwell (Blackwell companions to literature and culture, 86), pp. 543–556.

Ricci, R. (2016) ‘Reading between the Lines: A World of Interlinear Translation’, Journal of World Literature, 1(1), pp. 68–80. Available at: https://doi.org/10.1163/24056480-00101008.

 

When a word is translated into Malay, there are numerous occasions where the Malay word serves a similar purpose as the first category mentioned above, i.e. to provide linguistic clarification, particularly when a word can have multiple linguistic functions. In an anonymous Adab al-mutaʿallim (“Ethics for the learners,” coded DS 0043 00014), for instance, at one point the word mā is translated below the line as تياد "tiada" (“no/none”). There are several functions of mā in Arabic, including as an interrogative word, a relative pronoun, a negative word, and more. The translation “tiada” in this text is intended to indicate its function as a negative particle rather than any of the other options.

In terms of translation model, Adab al-mutaʿallim (Fig. 2) is different from the other examples that we have discussed. Unlike the previous ones which contain occasional interlinear content, Adab al-mutaʿallim provides not only detailed translations of almost every Arabic word but also a relatively complete and meaningful sentence. The opening line of the text states: al-ḥamd lillāh al-ʿaliyy al-bārī, translated as “segala puji-pujian bagi Allah yang amat tinggi lagi menjadikan segala makhluk” (“All praise be to Allah the Most High, who created all creatures”)

 

Figure 2 Adab al-mutaʿallim, DREAMSEA DS 0043 00014 p. 5r

These various interlinear materials may have a connection to the visual and oral aspects of the texts and their teaching moments. Texts containing elaborate interlinear material like ʿAwāmil and Adab al-mutaʿallim, suggest that these texts are used for beginner learners. On the other hand, texts that contain a lesser amount of interlinear material are used for more advanced education. The presence of both Arabic and Malay inserts between the lines indicates that the actual teaching process was likely to incorporate a blend of Malay and Arabic. However, an intermediate learner would not need every word translated and glossed for them, thus producing a scarce interlinear text.

 

Figure 3 Sharḥ Khulāṣat al-alfiyya, DREAMSEA DS 0043 00017 p. 10v.

Having said that, it's crucial to avoid falling for visual impressions. A gloss to Khulāṣat al-alfiyya (DS 0043 00017), a popular treatise on Arabic grammar, displays highly dense interlinear contents and sidenotes (Fig. 3), but is certainly not intended for beginners. The copyist or reader of this text does not seem to be interested in translating the text but rather in gathering relevant opinions about certain words in the Arabic text from different sources. For example, upon explaining the opening word of the text, qāla (“he said”), it offers two similar glosses but with different wordings, most probably originating from two different sources. The sources in question are not named, thus warranting further research, but it is a case in point to see that the text is read at an advanced level.

In conclusion, the different kinds of material provided between the lines are, in some respects, pointers to the actual pedagogical setting in which these texts were used. A first glance at the visual aspects of a manuscript enables us to discern the levels of Islamic education that transpired within the community that used it, but only with a closer look at the interlinear contents can we gain a better idea about the learning process. The density of the interlinear inserts, the different materials offered between the lines, and the mixed use of Arabic and Malay point to the degree of readers’ familiarity with all the means that were necessary for understanding the texts and offer hints for gauging the reader’s educational level.

 

References

Azra, Azyumardi. 2003. Surau: Pendidikan Islam Tradisi dalam Transisi dan Modernisasi. Jakarta: PT. Logos Wacana Ilmu.

Bruinessen, Martin van. 1990. “Kitab Kuning: Books in Arabic Script Used in the Pesantren Milieu: Comments on a New Collection in the KITLV Library.” Bijdragen Tot de Taal-, Land- En Volkenkunde 146 (2/3): 226–69.

Hadler, Jeffrey. 2008. Muslims and Matriarchs: Cultural Resilience in Indonesia through Jihad and Colonialism. Itacha: Cornell University Press.