This is not the only incident mentioned in the text. A Jain devotee was found in Pataliputra drawing a picture showing Buddha bowing to a Jain tirthankara. Ashoka ordered him and his family to be locked inside their home and for the building to be set alight. He then ordered that he would pay a gold coin in exchange for every decapitated head of a Jain. The carnage only ended when someone mistakenly killed his only surviving brother, the Buddhist monk Vitashoka (also called Tissa). The story suggests frightening parallels with modern-day fundamentalists who kill cartoonists whom they accuse of insulting their religion.
Supporters of Ashoka may claim that these incidents are untrue and were inserted into the story by fundamentalist Buddhist writers in much later times. While this is entirely possible, let me remind readers that my alternative narrative is based on exactly the same texts and inscriptions used to praise Ashoka. Perhaps the same scepticism should be evenly applied to all the evidence and not just to portions of the text that do not suit the mainstream narrative.
In addition to the references of his continued cruelty, we also have reason to believe that Ashoka was not a successful administrator. In his later years, an increasingly unwell Ashoka watched his empire disintegrate from rebellion, internal family squabbles and fiscal stress. While he was still alive, the empire had probably lost all the north-western territories that had been acquired from Seleucus. Within a few years of Ashoka’s death in 232 BC, the Satvahanas had taken over most of the territories in southern India and Kalinga too had seceded.
As one can see, Ashoka does not look like such a great king on closer inspection but a cruel and unpopular usurper who presided over the disintegration of a large and well-functioning empire built by his father and grandfather. At the very least, it must be accepted that evidence of Ashoka’s greatness is thin and he was some shade of grey at best. Perhaps like many politicians, he made grand high-minded proclamations but acted entirely differently. This fits with the fact that he is not remembered as a great monarch in the Indian tradition but in hagiographic Buddhist texts written in countries that did not experience his reign. He was ‘rediscovered’ in the nineteenth century by colonial-era orientalists like James Prinsep. His elevation to being ‘Ashoka the Great’ is even more recent and is the result of political developments leading up to India’s independence.16
After Independence, it appears academic historians were further encouraged to build up the legend of Ashoka the Great in order to provide a lineage to Jawaharlal Nehru’s socialist project and inconvenient evidence was simply swept under the carpet.17 This is not so different from how the medieval Ethiopians created a biblical lineage for the Solomonic dynasty. A few Western writers like Charles Allen have patronizingly written how ancient Indians were somehow foolish to have had little regard for a great king such as Ashoka. On a closer look, it appears that they knew what they were doing. What is more worrying is how easily modern Indians have come to accept a narrative based on such minimal evidence.
Mauryan Trade Routes
The establishment of a large united empire across the subcontinent would have led to a spurt in internal trade along both the northern and southern highways. In his treatise Arthashastra, Chanakya (also called Kautilya) has left us his opinion on the relative merits of trading along the Uttara Path and the Dakshina Path.18 The text tells us that earlier scholars had a preference for the northern highway but Chanakya makes the case that the southern route was a much better source of all goods except horses and woollen cloth. Perhaps this reflects the changing economic dynamics of the subcontinent by the fourth century BC. Note that Chanakya specifically mentions diamonds, a gemstone that was at that time only found in peninsular India; a product of the volcanic processes that also created the Deccan plateau.
Meanwhile, maritime trade continued to do well. Ships would have sailed out of the ports of Gujarat and sailed along the Makran coast to the Persian Gulf while a branch would have made its way into the Red Sea. We know that Bindusara was in touch with Alexander’s successors in the Middle East. He once asked Seleucus’s successor Antiochus for figs, wine and a Greek philosopher. Antiochus sent the figs and the wine but politely refused to send the philosopher on the grounds that Greek law forbade the sale of scholars! So, what did Bindusara send in return? We know that Antiochus used Indian war elephants to fend off a major invasion by Gauls into Anatolia (modern-day Turkey). So it is quite likely that he was being supplied elephants and their mahouts by Bindusara. In other words, the Greeks had continued the Persian practice of using Indian soldiers although they had shifted from horsemen to mahouts for war elephants.
Ashoka too maintained the links with the Greek rulers of the Middle East. His thirteenth edict mentions that he sent missionaries to Antiyoka (Antiochus of Syria), Turamaya (Ptolemy of Egypt), Antikini (Antigonus of Macedonia), Maka (Magas of Cyrene) and Alikasundara (Alexander of Corinth). The Indian rendering of these ancient Greek names is interesting in itself.19 Maritime trade was also active along the eastern coast and the same edict mentions the Cholas and Pandyas of Tamil country. The port of Tamralipti in Bengal was thriving during this period and it is probably from here that Ashoka’s son Mahinda set sail for his mission to Sri Lanka.
Despite all these maritime linkages, let us not forget that sailing the seas was still dangerous business. The Arthashastra tells us that Chanakya preferred coastal and river routes over those crossing the high seas as he considered them too dangerous. The use of the monsoon winds had still not been mastered at this stage and it was considered foolhardy to sail too far from the coast. Or perhaps it was just a landlubber’s suspicion of the deep ocean! Nonetheless, it is interesting that he mentions this at all as it suggests that there were some mariners in the fourth century BC who were confident enough to try transoceanic routes.
Kharavela’s Revenge
Ashoka’s successors tried hard to stabilize the empire after his death. It appears that they all distanced themselves from Ashoka’s aggression and tried to mend relations across groups. Ashoka’s immediate successor was Dasharatha who reached out to the Ajivikas and constructed the rock-cut Nagarjuni and Barabar caves for the sect.20 These are located near Gaya, Bihar, and are the oldest rock-cut shrines in India. After Dasharatha, the empire seems to have broken up rapidly. One of Ashoka’s sons or grandsons, Jalauka, carved out an independent kingdom in Kashmir where he promoted Shaivite Hinduism. In Pataliputra, the teenage Samprati took over the crown but was forced by intra-family feuds to shift to Ujjain.
Meanwhile, the Satvahanas began to take over the southern territories of the empire. They seem to have been from Andhra country and called themselves the ‘Andhra-bhritya’ or servants of the Andhras.21 The modern Indian state of Andhra Pradesh is named after them although, ironically, the most likely location of their origin is now in the breakaway state of Telangana.
The Satvahanas would set up their capital at Pratishthana (modern Paithan), in present-day Maharashtra, a major node on the southern highway, and would take on the title ‘Lords of Dakshina Path’. For some inexplicable reason, Indian’s post-independence historians and archaeologists ignored the Satvahanas and it was only in 2015 that the government finally decided to re-examine sites that had been identified over a century ago by colonial-era researchers.22
As the Satvahanas expanded north, they came in conflict with the Indo-Greeks and Sakas (Scythians) who had taken over north-western India and were now trying to take control of the ports of Gujarat. An inscription in Nasik tells us of the Satvahana king Gautamiputra Satakarni who defeated and pushed back the Greeks and Scythians.
The invaders, however, seem to have met with less resistance from the later Mauryans and we see them making raids deeper and deeper into the Gangetic plains. Taking advantage of the situation, Kalinga rebelled and seceded under the leadership of the Chedi clan. Around 193 BC, a remarkable military leader called Kharavela came to the throne of Kalinga. We know about him because of a long inscription at Hathigumpha, or Elephant’s Cave.23
Kharavela realized that the old empire was on its last legs and four years later he returned with a large army and sacked the Mauryan capital. He tells us proudly that he brought back the Jain idols that had been taken away to Pataliputra at the time of the Nanda kings and that he made King Bahasatimita (probably the last Mauryan king Brihadhrata) bow to him. With the prestige of the Mauryas in tatters, the last emperor would be deposed by his general Pushyamitra Sunga who founded a new dynasty that would later re-establish control over most of north and central India.
Remember that Ashoka’s brutal invasion has taken place only three generations earlier and would have still been fresh in Odiya memory. So, when Kharavela returned from his Magadh campaign, he had his exploits inscribed on a rock on Udayagiri hill, now effectively a suburb of Bhubaneswar. The hill has a number of beautifully carved caves cut into the hillside for the use of Jain monks. If one climbs up the hill and stands in front of Hathigumpha and looks out over Bhubaneswar, one can see Dhauli on a clear day (smog can often obscure the view). It is unmistakable how Kharavela had his inscriptions placed directly looking out at those of Ashoka at Dhauli. It is as if to tell Ashoka that he, Kharavela of Kalinga, had sacked Pataliputra and caused the end of Mauryan rule.
Archaeologists have recently uncovered a large fortified city from this period at Sishupalgarh, very close to modern Bhubaneswar. It is very likely the remains of Kharavela’s capital, Kalinga-nagari. Although the expanding modern city is slowly encroaching into the site, the straight lines of the earthwork defences are still discernable and the moat now seems to function as a municipal drain. One of the city’s main gateways has been excavated. Perhaps this is the very gate that Kharavela tells us he repaired after it had been damaged by a storm in the first year of his reign. India’s eastern coastline remains prone to severe storms and I personally witnessed the damage wrought by Cyclone Phailin which had hit Odisha just a few weeks before I visited the archaeological site in 2013.
Kharavela’s inscriptions suggest that he had defeated the Satvahanas, the Mauryas, the Indo-Greeks and even the Pandyas of Tamil country in the deep south. Having done all this, he declared that the ‘wheel of conquest’ had been turned—possibly meaning that he had conducted the Vedic ashwamedha-yagya and declared himself a Chakravarti (or World Conqueror).24 This would have made him the most powerful Indian ruler of his time. Despite these achievements, Kharavela is almost never mentioned in Indian textbooks because history is written in a way that systematically emphasizes a continental viewpoint over the coastal perspective. It is as if political power was naturally centred in some inland city like Pataliputra or Delhi, and the rest of India must exist as mere provinces.
Kharavela’s inscriptions are mostly about his military campaigns but there are a few references to economic concerns. The restoration of a number of reservoirs and the extension of an old Nanda-era canal are mentioned. The management of water supply was obviously an important activity expected of the state. There is also a fleeting mention of the king gifting Chinese silk to priests/monks. This would suggest that Indian merchants operating in South East Asia had connected to trade routes that extended all the way to China. We now turn to their exploits.
5
Kaundinya’s Wedding
The period following the collapse of the Mauryan empire is somehow glossed over in history books as if the size of an empire is the only thing that matters. This is unfortunate as the period saw a boom in economic activity and mercantile trade. Merchant ships set sail from Satvahana and Kalinga ports, as well as those of the small kingdoms in the far south, to trade as far as Egypt in the west and Vietnam in the East.
As already discussed, Odiya–Bengali seafarers had been visiting and settling in Sri Lanka from the sixth century BC. At some point they also began to trade with South East Asia. However, in the initial phase, they did not have the confidence to sail directly across the Bay of Bengal. Instead, they hugged the coast till the Isthmus of Kra. This is the thin strip of land, now part of Thailand, from which the Malay peninsula hangs. Goods were then taken overland to the Gulf of Thailand from where they were loaded again on ships for ports in Cambodia and southern Vietnam. This explains why India’s eastern coast established links with faraway Vietnam before the Indonesian islands of Java and Bali that may appear closer on a map. Óc Eo, in Vietnam’s Mekong delta, seems to have become a major hub. From there, merchandise would be traded up the coast to China.
It is in the Mekong delta that we witness the establishment of the first Indianized kingdom of South East Asia around the first century BC. The Chinese called it the kingdom of Funan. There is an interesting legend about how this kingdom was founded. It is said that an Indian merchant ship was sailing through the region when it was attacked by pirates led by Soma, daughter of the chieftain of the local Naga clan. The Indians fought back and fended off the attackers led by a handsome young Brahmin called Kaundinya. Unfortunately, the ship had been damaged and had to be beached for repairs.
The merchants must have been worried about a second attack but luck turned in their favour. It appears Princess Soma had been impressed by Kaundinya’s bravery and had fallen in love! She proposed marriage and the offer was accepted. This union is said to have founded a lineage that ruled Funan for many generations. We have no way of knowing if this legend is based on true events but slightly different versions of the story are repeated in inscriptions by both the Chams of Vietnam and the Khmers of Cambodia—the royal families of both claim descent from Soma and Kaundinya. It is also repeated in contemporary Chinese records.1
Notice how Kaundinya acquired his throne through marriage to a warrior princess. Moreover, it was the princess who made the proposal. Given that royal legitimacy had been acquired through the female line, we find that matrilineal genealogies would be given a great deal of importance over the fifteen hundred years that these Indianized kingdoms flourished in this part of the world.
This founding myth also explains why the serpent (naga) became such an important royal symbol in Khmer iconography. More than a thousand years later, the mystical union between the king and a ‘serpent’ princess remained an important part of the court ceremonials at Angkor.2
So, who was Kaundinya? We know nothing about him except that he was a Brahmin from India but his name provides a clue. While Kaundinya is not a common first name, it is the name of a gotra (i.e. male lineage) of Brahmins who still live along the Tamil–Andhra–Odisha coastline. Perhaps this is not a coincidence.
By the end of the second century BC, Indian mariners appear to have learned enough about the monsoon winds and ocean currents to attempt a more southern route across the Indian Ocean to the islands of Indonesia. Odisha’s Lake Chilika was an important starting point for this voyage. It is a large brackish water lake with a small opening to the sea. The mariners of Kalinga, therefore, used the lake as a safe harbour. Even today, you are likely to find broken heaps of ancient pottery strewn along the lake’s shores.
Note that the ships did not sail out directly for Indonesia. Instead they used the north-eastern monsoon winds that blow from mid-November to sail down the coast to Sri Lanka. This was already a well-known route and the merchants probably stopped along the way to trade as well. In Sri Lanka, the ships would have taken in fresh water and supplies before using ocean currents to cross the Indian Ocean to the northern tip of Sumatra (called Swarnadwipa, or Island of Gold in Sanskrit texts). From here, the ships could choose to sail down the Straits of Malacca towards Palembang and take the sea route to Borneo and Vietnam. Alternatively, they could hea
d south hugging the western coast of Sumatra to Bali and Java (called Yavadwipa, or Island of Barley/Grain).
After finishing their purchases and sales, most ships would have used the countercurrent to return to Sri Lanka, and then Odisha. If the sailors started from Odisha in mid-November, it is estimated that they would reach the islands of Java/Bali by mid-January. They would now have two months to conduct their business before they started their return journey in mid-March. This would allow them to get back to Sri Lanka in time to catch the early South-West monsoon winds in May that would take them home.3
The merchants of Kalinga were not the only ones making the journey to Indonesia. There were merchants from the Tamil, Andhra and Bengal coasts too. There were even horse traders from India’s north-west who made their way to the port of Tamralipti in Bengal and then sailed to Java and Sumatra. However, in the initial phase, it is the Sadhaba merchants of Kalinga who seem to have had a dominant influence. This is why Indians were known as ‘keling’ by the Malays and Javanese from ancient times although the term has acquired a somewhat derogatory connotation in recent times.
That era of maritime exploration and trade is still remembered in Odisha in folklore and festivals. The festival of Kartik Purnima takes place in mid-November when the winds shift and begin to blow from the north. This marks the time of year that ancient mariners would have set sail for Indonesia. Families, especially women and children, gather at the edge of a waterbody and place paper boats with oil lamps in the water. I witnessed the ritual on a beach near the temple town of Konark. Streams of people from nearby villages arrived before dawn to place their little boats in the water and watch them float away. A cool breeze blew from the north as promised and the full moon made the crashing waves glimmer. As per tradition, one must wait for the sun to rise. I watched my paper boat float away. This is how the families of the ancient mariners would have bid goodbye to their loved ones.
The Ocean of Churn: How the Indian Ocean Shaped Human History Page 9
