The North Square of Yogyakarta: Between Sacred Sand and Sturdy Banyans

The North Square, or Alun-alun Lor, isn’t just any open field. It’s like the living front yard of the Yogyakarta Palace, where sand, banyan trees, and history quietly mingle. Positioned right in front of the Keraton, this wide-open space also sits on the philosophical axis that stretches straight from Tugu Golong Gilig to Panggung Krapyak.

So, if you’re strolling from Kilometer Zero, don’t be surprised—the warm sight of sandy land will greet you before you even realize you’ve entered a space full of layered meanings. The square’s location also makes it easy to hop between nearby favorites: the majestic Grand Mosque, the legendary Gudeg Wijilan, Malioboro’s never-ending bustle, and the colonial walls of Vredeburg Fort.

What You’ll Find Inside the North Square

The square spans about 150 by 150 meters, bordered by neat fences and guarded by iconic banyan trees. Two of them stand tall in the center, known as Kiai Dewadaru and Kiai Janadaru (now called Kiai Wijayadaru). To the north and south, you’ll also find pairs of banyan trees with names that sound like they’re characters in a wayang story—Kiai Wok and Kiai Jenggot in the north, and Agung and Binatur in the south.

According to old manuscripts like Serat Salokapatra, these trees weren’t just randomly planted. Their seeds came from noble sources: Pajajaran for Kiai Janadaru, and Majapahit for Kiai Dewadaru. In short, even the trees here are children of kingdoms.

A Glimpse into the Past

Back in the day, the North Square was home to 64 banyan trees—symbolizing the age of Prophet Muhammad when he passed away, according to Javanese reckoning. Between them stood small pavilions called bangsal perkapalan, where regional leaders stayed before meeting the Sultan.

The square also had bangsal pangurakan on the north side, where punishments were carried out or weapons stored, and bangsal balemangu near the Grand Mosque for religious courts. And here’s a fun twist: the square wasn’t grassy at all, but entirely covered with fine sand. Imagine Yogyakarta’s own desert—though one you couldn’t just enter freely.

Back then, stepping into the square meant following strict etiquette: no shoes, no vehicles, no umbrellas, no walking sticks. Why? As a form of respect for the Sultan, the living symbol of the palace.

More Than Just an Empty Field

Historically, the North Square wasn’t just for decoration. It was where soldiers trained and showed off their martial skills while the Sultan and nobles watched from Siti Hinggil. It was also the stage for tapa pepe: people sitting silently under the blazing sun between the banyans, hoping the Sultan would notice their plea for justice. Basically, the original version of “silent protest.”

Over time, the sacred atmosphere shifted. The square became a public playground: parking lots, people’s recreation, even music stages and bustling Sekaten markets. A space once filled with discipline and ritual turned into a community hub.

Why the Sand Still Matters

In 2020, the palace fenced off the square again. Then in 2022, it was revitalized by covering it once more with sand. But this wasn’t just about “returning to tradition.” According to the palace, the sand symbolizes the boundless sea—a metaphor for the infinite nature of God.

The entire layout, with the twin banyans at the center, represents manunggaling kawula Gusti—the union of the people and the divine.

But the revitalization wasn’t just symbolic. The old sand had been contaminated with modern leftovers: tent pegs, bits of concrete, even banners from the 1980s. So, the palace replaced it with fresh sand taken from royal land in Bantul. A kind of cleansing, both physical and spiritual.

Through these efforts, the Yogyakarta Palace hopes to preserve the square not just as a public field, but as an essential piece of the city’s philosophical axis—a step toward affirming Yogyakarta as a true World Heritage City.