Shallow dive in the Indian Ocean

THE OCEAN OF CHURN
How the Indian Ocean shaped human history
Sanjeev Sanyal
Viking/Penguin
298 pages; Rs 599

The Pacific and the Atlantic are larger and deeper than the Indian Ocean and, in the last century, have figured more prominently than it in global geo-strategic considerations. But the Indian Ocean has certainly been of far more seminal significance in shaping the world as we know it even today. That is what the sub-title of Sanjeev Sanyal's new book aptly says and that is why I was eager to read it. But 300 pages of thumbnail sketches covering the entirety of four-and-a-half billion years of Mother Earth's existence is not exactly an overwhelming read.

When homo sapiens emerged over 100,000 years ago, it was on the rim of the Indian Ocean. When they started moving out of Africa 50,000-plus years later, it was the edges of this ocean they traversed. When they first built rafts and dugouts and other primitive craft, it was to negotiate the waters of this ocean. When they settled to being cultivators, it was mostly in the region abutting this ocean. The earliest towns and cities and trading outposts came up along this ocean as did sundry city-states and even kingdoms growing into mighty empires. All the major religions, Indic and Abrahamic, originated or gained early adherents here, as did early languages, literature and science. The wealth of the region surrounding the Indian Ocean was the stuff of legends. Mr Sanyal quotes the first century Roman historian Pliny saying, "Not a year passed in which India did not take 50 million sesterces away from Rome." This was to be motive enough for early and lasting European imperialist forays. All this is not some present-day ultranationalist fantasy. It is recorded history, and Mr Sanyal persistently refers to any and all bits of evidence supporting it.

Mr Sanyal is at his best in tracing the transformation of the primordial Pangaea landmass and emergence of continents and oceans and islands becoming the world as we know it. He holds the reader's undivided attention as he outlines the wanderings of early man, making the very valid point that they were not all unidirectional, with back-and-forth movements galore in response to cataclysmic warming and cooling of the earth. My take away from this is that the lighter-skinned and fairer-haired Neanderthals possibly interbred with homo sapiens. So, the next time you are smitten by a Teutonic, blond specimen, remember the Neanderthal genes!

The author loses his way in what follows. The narrative rambles. The loose chronological order has large gaps. We jump straight from the beginning of cultivation to trade and kingdoms and armies. The eastern and western littoral rims of the ocean get juxtaposed for no particular reason. Chapters do not follow a single theme. For example, the one titled Arabian Knights has stories on the fifth century Chinese traveller Fa Xian, the Pallavas of south India, the Zoroastrian migration to India and the Roma travels to Europe, besides some tales of Arabs and Islam. Mr Sanyal appears to first form a theory and then offer such evidence as supports it - anecdotes, folk tales, cave paintings, all are grist for his mill - or, frequently, a claim "it has been proven". And the repetitions, in the space of a few pages, suggest that the author assumes his readers suffer from attention deficit syndrome. I suspect this arises from the fact that many sections first appeared as stand-alone newspaper articles (the author does not say so, but I have read some of these earlier).

Every so often, Mr Sanyal the columnist steps in to offer a parallel or aside from current affairs, which is irksome. And what to make of his assertion that the Orthodox Church observes Christmas on January 7 because it did not accept the incorporation of Sol (which falls on December 25) of the pagan Romans into the Christian calendar?

The author's dilettantism is the primary culprit for the patchy outcome. Comparisons are odious but inevitable. Peter Frankopan's luminous The Silk Roads not only traverses a similar path, but is equally meant for the intelligent lay reader. It suffers from no such infirmities.

I believe it is well-nigh impossible to pursue significant research-based work while one's day job keeps one preoccupied otherwise. I have admired Amartya Sen's masterly expositions on calendars and Sanskrit literature, which are far removed from his claim to fame as an economics Nobel laureate. I am mindful of the fact that Mr Sen's academic positions allow him all the latitude he needs to pursue these diverse interests. The same applies to Mr Frankopan, who has an Oxford assignment. At the risk of sounding insufferably donnish, I wonder how much leeway working as a strategic advisor offers for such broad-ranging inquiries as the one under review.

Some 60 years ago, Vinoba Bhave ended his address to my primary school assembly with a question. My hand shot up even before he could finish speaking. My answer evoked a sharp retort from the Acharya, "Half knowledge is dangerous." That admonition, taken to heart by an 11-year old schoolboy, should be borne in mind by wannabe polymaths.