The maritime links to Kartik Purnima are remembered in many other ways. A fair is held every year in Cuttack called Bali Yatra which literally means ‘The Journey to Bali’. It is also a tradition to perform songs and plays based on the old folk tale about Tapoi. The story goes that there was a wealthy merchant, a widower, who had seven sons and a daughter. The daughter, the youngest, was named Tapoi and her father and brothers doted on her. One year, the merchant decided to take all his sons on a long voyage to a distant land. He left Tapoi behind in the care of his seven daughters-in-law with clear instructions that they look after the young girl.
Unfortunately, Tapoi’s sisters-in-law secretly hated her and mistreated her. She was made to cook, clean the cowshed and do all the washing. They even withheld food from her. After several months of tolerating all the physical and mental abuse, Tapoi eventually ran away into the forest. There she prayed to goddess Mangala, a form of Durga, who blessed her. A few days later, her father and brothers returned unexpectedly. They soon realized what had happened and brought Tapoi back from the forest. The evil sisters-in-law were punished. The folk tale not only hints at the tradition of long oceanic voyages but also expresses some of the inner anxieties of those who made these voyages—when will we get back home, what will happen to those left behind?
The most important Indian export was cotton textiles which would continue to be in much demand across the Indian Ocean rim till modern times. Excavations in South East Asia also show evidence of carnelian beads and a variety of metalware. By AD first century, we find that Indian merchants were also bringing along Mediterranean and West Asian products that they, in turn, had purchased from the Romans, Greeks and Arabs. Artefacts found in Sembiran in Bali clearly show that it was in close contact with Arikamedu, an Indo-Roman port, just outside Puducherry.4
Indian imports included Chinese silks, via ports in Vietnam, and camphor from Sumatra. The islands of Indonesia would have been a source of cloves, nutmeg and other spices. Many of the spices thought to be ‘Indian’ by medieval Europeans were actually from Indonesia except black pepper which grows along the south-western coast of India. Till the late eighteenth century, the world’s entire supply of cloves came from the tiny islands of Ternate and Tidore in the Maluku group.
Trade links with South East Asia unsurprisingly led to cultural exchange. Within a few centuries we see the strong impact of Indic civilization on the region—the Buddhist and Hindu religions, the epics Mahabharata and Ramayana, the Sanskrit language, scripts, temple architecture and so on. Despite the later impact of Islam, European colonial rule and postcolonial modernity, the influence of ancient India remains alive in place and personal names, commonly used words, and in the arts and crafts. Buddhism is still the dominant religion across Myanmar to Vietnam, while Hinduism survives in pockets such as Bali.
There are some cultural artefacts that seem to have survived with little change from the very earliest phase of contact between the two regions. One cannot look at traditional masks from Bali, Sri Lanka and the Andhra–Odisha coast without being struck by the similarity. The same is true of Wayang Kulit, the Indonesian art of shadow puppetry, and its equivalent in Odisha and Andhra Pradesh. Imagine ancient mariners entertaining each other during the long nights of an ocean crossing by using their ship’s sail to enact shadow-puppet plays, cultural roots anchoring them as they made a perilous journey to distant lands.
One should not be under the impression that influences always flowed unidirectionally from India to South East Asia. Far from it, Indian civilization was enriched in many ways by influences from the east. One commonplace example is the custom of chewing paan (betel leaves with areca nuts, usually with a bit of lime and other ingredients). While it is common across the Indian subcontinent, the areca nut, called ‘supari’ in Hindi, is originally from South East Asia and was chewed across the region and as far north as Taiwan.
Paan is still widely consumed in India but, in recent years, has become less popular in the urban areas of South East Asia. Still, the leaf and nut continue to play an important cultural role and are used in many ceremonies. I have eaten them at a wedding in Bali and found old villagers chewing them in the Philippines. The Vietnamese too use it for many marriage-related ceremonies. It is quite possible that they were used by the warrior princess Soma when she sent the marriage proposal to Kaundinya.
The supari that one chews today in most parts of India gives no more than a mild buzz. The Khasis of Meghalaya, however, have preserved a strain that can be surprisingly strong. Perhaps they brought it with them during their prehistoric migrations from Sundaland. Surprisingly, the strongest that I have eaten came from a wild variety that I accidentally discovered in Singapore of all places. Suffice to say, the tiny nut packed the punch of a bottle of rum!
Of Tamils and Sinhalese
Most of the early known history of the far south of the Indian peninsula, what are now the states of Kerala and Tamil Nadu, is about the rivalries between three clans—the Cholas, Cheras and Pandyas. The Cholas had their heartland in the Kaveri delta, the Pandyas were further south near Madurai and the Cheras along the Kerala coast. Their relative strength waxed and waned over time but it is amazing how the same three clans battled each other over fifteen centuries (c. 300 BC to AD 1200)! Early Tamil poetry of the Sangam compilations provides vivid, if somewhat idealized, views of the times—prosperous cities, bustling bazaars and ports busy with merchant ships from foreign lands. The city of Madurai, the capital of the Pandyas, is described as follows in ‘Maduraikkanchi’, composed in the first century BC:5
The city walls are sky high and contain strong sally-ports and gateways old and strong,
On whose doorposts is carved great Lakshmi’s form.
Their strong built doors are blackened by the ghee poured as libation
In the wide long streets that are broad as rivers,
Crowds of folk of various professions and speech create a noise in the morning market-place while buying things
Excavations in Tamil Nadu in recent years have unearthed remains of significant urban centres from this period such as one found under the hamlet of Keezhadi, near Madurai, in 2015.6 The findings confirm that the cities mentioned in the Sangam literature are not imaginary even if the descriptions may have been embellished. Tamil nationalists of the twentieth century had attempted to use these texts to glorify some pristine Dravidian past but, ironically, Sangam literature is full of ‘northern’ influences. Far from being Dravidian purists, ancient Tamils credited the sage Agastya, a northerner, with formalizing Tamil grammar. The great Tamil kings similarly took great pride in building linkages with the epics. In other words, the very earliest Tamil texts suggest a people who were very proud of being part of a wider Indic civilization. As historian Nilakanta Sastri puts it, ‘But none can miss the significance of the fact that early Tamil literature, the earliest to which we have access, is already full of charged words, conceptions and institutions of Sanskritic and northern origin.’7
Far from being concerned with a pristine civilization, Sangam literature celebrates interactions with the rest of the world with descriptions of bustling ports and foreign trade. One of the texts also makes the first definite reference to a naval battle where Chera king Udiyanjeral defeated an unspecified local adversary and took a number of Greek merchants captive. The captives were later freed upon providing a large ransom.8
By the fourth century BC, some Tamil groups began to settle in northern Sri Lanka. There was already a significant population of settlers from Odisha–Bengal, and the local Vedda population had been sidelined, as mentioned earlier. Several small kingdoms gradually emerged, scattered across the island, but one of them, Anuradhapura, seems to have gained prominence due to the backing of Emperor Ashoka. According to the Mahavamsa, Ashoka sent his son Mahinda to convert the ruler of Anuradhapura, Devanampiya Tissa, to Buddhism, in the third century BC.
In 177 BC, two Tamil adventurers captured the throne of Anuradhapura and ruled it for twent
y-two years. They would be followed a decade later by another Tamil ruler, Ellara, who would rule for forty-four years and earn a reputation for ensuring justice and good governance. However, after the first three decades of peace, Ellara would be challenged by Dattagamani, the Sinhalese ruler of a southern kingdom. This would lead to fifteen years of war that is said to have culminated in a face-to-face duel unto death where the younger challenger killed Ellara (a bit unfair given that Ellara would have been over seventy by this time).
Later writings would present this moment as the victory of a Sinhala son-of-the-soil over a Tamil intruder as well as the consummation of the island’s destiny as a Buddhist nation. However, as pointed out by K.M. de Silva, the island’s pre-eminent historian, this is not how it would have seemed at the time that the events took place. Most of the Sinhalese were not Buddhist at this stage and many of them seem to have sided with Ellara.9 Even the Mahavamsa agrees that Ellara was a good and popular king. Far from being so sure about who was the ‘son-of-the-soil’ in the second century BC, the Tamils and the Sinhalese would have seen themselves and each other as relatively recent immigrants.
We tend to think of the relations between the Sinhalese and Tamils of Sri Lanka (and by extension between Buddhists and Hindus) as being that of perpetual conflict, because we are influenced by the experience of the bloody Tamil separatist movement in the late twentieth century and its brutal suppression. The longer history, however, is much more complicated and involves both conflicts and alliances between kingdoms of the two ethnic groups at different points in time. If there is any pattern at all, there seems to have been a long-term alliance between the Sinhalese and the Tamil Pandyas of Madurai against other Tamil clans like the Cholas.
Moreover, the Sinhalese religion for most of its history was very eclectic and has always included strong Hindu elements. Upulvan, or Vishnu, is still worshipped by the Sinhalese as the guardian deity of Sri Lanka and virtually all major Buddhist temples have shrines to Hindu deities (called ‘devalas’). This is even true of the holiest of holies, the Temple of the Tooth in Kandy. As any visitor will notice, pilgrims entering the temple must first pass a number of Hindu shrines before reaching the main building. Even the nearby souvenir stalls sell an eclectic mix of Hindu and Buddhist icons.
After Dattagamani defeated Ellara and united the island, he established himself in Anuradhapura. Except for a couple of brief interruptions, the city would remain the capital of the island’s dominant kingdom for the next thousand years. Just like the political history of the southern tip of India was mostly about the rivalries between three clans, we find that this period of Lankan history would be dominated by the Moriya and Lamkanna clans. This was further complicated by intrigues within each clan. The politics of the times is best illustrated by the story of Sigiriya, one of the most spectacular historical sites in Asia.
Dhatusena, the king of Anuradhapura, was murdered by his son Kassapa in AD 477. Kassapa was the king’s eldest son but by a junior concubine and consequently not in the line of succession. So, he captured power with the help of Migara, his cousin, who was the army commander. The crown prince Moggallana, however, escaped to southern India (probably finding shelter in the Pandya court).
Kassapa then decided to build a new capital for himself at Sigiriya. It is a site dominated by a gigantic rock. The new capital was laid out at the foot of the rock while the palace was built on the top. I strongly recommend visitors take the trouble to climb the rock; a moderately fit person will take about an hour and a quarter to make the round trip. The top is like a miniature Machu Picchu and provides amazing views of the surrounding countryside.
Sigiriya’s moment in the sun, however, came to an abrupt end in AD 495 when Moggallana suddenly returned with an army of Indian mercenaries. He defeated Kassapa and killed him, and shifted the capital back to Anuradhapura. Sigiriya was gradually abandoned except for parts that were used as a Buddhist monastery. Nonetheless, medieval tourists would keep visiting the site for centuries, especially to admire the paintings of bare-breasted damsels that adorn a cave shelter halfway up the rock. These tourists expressed their admiration in graffiti love poems that can still be read. Here are some examples:10
Lovely this lady
Excellent the painter
And when I look
At hand and eye
I do believe she lives
We spoke
But they did not answer
Those lovely ladies of the mountain
They did not give us
Even the twitch of an eye-lid
It appears that some female visitors, seemingly irritated with their male companions, also left some graffiti:
You fools!
You come to Sihagiri and inscribe these verses
Yet not one of you brings wine and molasses
Remembering we are women.
Alexandria to Muzeris
Just as maritime trade boomed in the eastern Indian Ocean, there was a similar boom in trade between India’s west coast and the Greco-Roman world. The trade routes are described in detail in The Periplus of the Erythraean Sea, a manual written by an Egyptian–Greek merchant in AD first century.11 Some of the details suggest that the author had personally visited many of the places mentioned in the manuscript. Note that Erythraean Sea literally means Red Sea, but the term was used by the ancient Greeks more broadly to include the Indian Ocean.
The Periplus tells us that there were two routes from the Mediterranean to the Red Sea. One of the routes started from the ports of what are now Israel and Lebanon and made its way overland via Petra to the Gulf of Aqaba. The magnificent rock-cut remains of the city of Petra in Jordan, now a World Heritage Site, show us how the Nabataeans had grown rich from trade.
The alternative route for Roman merchants to the Red Sea ran through the great port of Alexandria in Egypt. The city was a cosmopolitan melting pot and we have evidence that it had a population of Indians. From Alexandria there were two options. One could make one’s way directly from the Nile delta to Suez. This was not a new route and we know from Herodotus that the ancient pharaohs had attempted to build a canal from the Nile to the Red Sea, and that the project had been completed during the rule of Persian emperor Darius in the sixth century BC. However, the canal kept getting silted up, and despite being re-excavated by the Ptolemies in the third century BC, part of the journey had to be made on foot. At the time The Periplus was written, the more popular option was to sail up the Nile to Coptos (Qift) and then make the eleven-day crossing through the desert to the port of Berenice (Berenike) on Egypt’s Red Sea coast.12
Archaeological excavations at Berenice have thrown up a variety of goods from India including peppercorns, seeds of the amla fruit (Indian gooseberry) from the lower Himalayas, cotton cloth, and even mung seeds from South East Asia. Pottery shards with Prakrit and Tamil markings have been found in a nearby settlement. Customs tokens, made of baked clay, have also been found in a rubbish pit. These tokens were given to merchants who had paid their taxes in Coptos and only the goods listed on the tokens were allowed to be loaded on outgoing ships by officials in Berenice. Customs receipts also mention carefully weighed pouches of coins—called marisippia. Many of these coins would make their way to the ports of India.
The first port down the coast from Berenice was a ‘fair-sized village’ called Adulis. This was a barren stretch of the coast, but Adulis served as the nearest access to the city of Aksum that had emerged as a major urban centre in the Ethiopian highlands. We are told that Aksum was eight days’ journey inland and was the source of ivory and rhino horn. At this stage, the Ethiopians had not yet converted to Christianity and one can still see gigantic stone obelisks in Aksum, probably carved in memory of the pagan kings of that period. The monarchs of Ethiopia would be crowned in Aksum till the twentieth century.
As the merchant fleets made their way further down the Red Sea, they would have to pass the point where the Arabian peninsula comes nearest to the African coast. This is
the most likely place where our early ancestors had crossed over from Africa before colonizing the rest of the world. The Periplus warns us that contrary winds and strong currents made this place dangerous for ships. The Arabs would later name it Bab-el-Mandeb or Gateway of Tears.
After the narrow strait, the sea widens out to the Gulf of Aden. By AD first century, the Sabeans had been pushed out by rival clans and the coast was controlled by the Himyarites and the Hadramawt. The Periplus tells us that this region was the source of frankincense. We are told that the gum was collected from the trees by the king’s slaves and prisoners. Merchants, however, did not spend too much time here as it had a reputation for being unhealthy and ‘pestilential even to those sailing along the coast’. Instead they headed for the island of Socotra.
Socotra is a fragment left over from the break-up of the supercontinent of Gondwana and its long isolation has left it with unique flora and fauna. The island’s name is derived from Dwipa Sukhadhara, or ‘the Island of Bliss’ in Sanskrit. It is telling that an island so close to Arabia had a Sanskritic name and, The Periplus tells us that, in addition to Arabs and Greeks, it had a large population of Indians. One can still read graffiti left by these ancient mariners on the walls of Hoq cave on the island.
The traditional coastal route to India from Socotra was to head north to Oman. This coast was controlled by the Persians at that time and only ‘fish-eaters’ lived here. Indeed fishing still remains a very important source of food in this region. I have witnessed Omani fishermen selling their catch on the shore. The air is already heavy and hot by eight-thirty in the morning as the fishermen haul their catch to the market on the beach. The sea glistens a bright blue-green but the sun is relentless. In this treeless, barren landscape, man must live by the fruits of the sea.
The Ocean of Churn: How the Indian Ocean Shaped Human History Page 10
