A Hundred Horizons, by Sugata Bose

On India's sea of stories

Salil Tripathi
Thursday 22 June 2006 19:00 EDT
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

The Indian Ocean, those twin peaks between its bigger cousins the Pacific and the Atlantic, has remained relatively neglected. Half of the world's container ships, and two-third of its oil tankers, pass through the arc from Cape Point to the Arabian Peninsula, swooping down the Indian subcontinent, rising to Burma, and then moving south to the Malay Peninsula, Indonesia and Australia. But it features in our minds, as Harvard professor Sugata Bose poignantly reminds us in this unusual history of the region, only when disaster strikes - like the 2004 tsunami, which underscored its shared destiny.

Bose dissects works that have shown the ocean as a colonial theatre, or as a geographic expression. How academics view oceans matters, but how people view each other matters more, and the book comes alive only when it leaves the theoretical framework. Bose focuses on the 18th and 19th centuries, following dhows and steamships linking the subaltern and the elite: we meet indentured labourers, itinerant traders, devout pilgrims, soldiers fighting imperial wars, but we also glimpse Gandhi and Tagore.

The pearl trade linked India and the Arabian Peninsula, and cloves united India with East Africa; the spread of Indian capital financed agriculture and development. Rubber tappers in Malayan plantations and poor pilgrims tell us about life at the other end of the spectrum. And there are the soldiers, who fight for the British Empire, or who switch sides and join the Indian National Army in a vain attempt to liberate India.

India is firmly at the centre, from where all stories radiate. Bose points out that nearly 30 million Indians travelled overseas between 1830 and 1930. This emphasis is understandable, but there are missing elements. As a Chinese official once said, the Indian ocean is not India's ocean.

Bose rejects linear narrative, letting his stories follow their path. This fluidity makes the book unique. But why did such an intertwined region recede into a shell, and lose trade momentum to the Pacific Rim? One reason is that its biggest economies had other priorities. Australia saw the ocean as the place to fly over to the West; the world shunned South Africa during apartheid; and India was an import-substituting, inward-looking economy. That has now changed, and so will the story of the Indian Ocean.

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in