The story of pepper is a horrible story. It didn’t start out horrible. Black pepper (absolutely no relation to chili pepper) is native to India. It also grows great in Malaysia and Indonesia. The plant is a vine that climbs up trees, and produces spikes of red berries, that when dried become the peppercorns we know, that just spice everything up a bit. But pepper only grows in the tropics, so if anyone else wanted it, they had to come and get it.
And for centuries, that’s what happened. The Indians and Arabs and Chinese traded nicely amongst themselves. Arab traders carried pepper overland and sold it to Europe. The ancient Romans loved it. The kings and queens of medieval Europe loved it.
(The author writes that a persistent factoid claims that Europeans craved pepper to cover up the taste of rotting meat. She says it isn’t true. It was mostly rich people who were buying pepper, and they could afford fresh meat. They killed the animals right before the dinner. They just liked their food spicy.)
In the 15th century everything changed. The Portuguese decided they were tired of paying the middle man, and wanted to go get the spices themselves. (Pepper was the #1 spice, but nutmeg and cloves were also traded.) They sailed their ships around Africa and began the Age of Exploration.
The Portuguese didn’t just want to buy spices, though. They wanted to monopolize the spice trade. They wanted to be the only country allowed to buy and sell pepper, and they would attack anyone else who tried. They wanted to control the supply, and drive prices up, and make insanely high profits.
The Portuguese never succeeded at controlling the whole pepper trade, and their influence gradually faded. They were replaced by the English East India Company, and the Dutch East India Company, who both had the same game plan: control everything.
There was one relatively brief golden age, in the 1600s, when the Sultan of Aceh, a town on the tip of the island of Sumatra, remained independent and prosperous. The people had nice houses and nice clothes. The Sultan welcomed European traders, and brought them to his palace riding on elephants, and served them on golden dishes. The Sultan had parties in the middle of a river, eating and drinking while servants poured refreshing cool water on him.
The English said that the Dutch started it, militarily attacking the port cities, taking them over and building forts. The English said they just started doing that to keep up, but they did a good job keeping up. At Benkoolen, the English treated the local people as virtual slaves, requiring them to grow more and more pepper, jailing or beating them if they failed to meet quotas, and driving the people to near starvation because they didn’t have time to grow food for themselves.
All this while the English and Dutch were also attacking each other, stealing from each other, and using false weights to measure the pepper. American traders from Massachusetts began to cut in on the trade. The Americans began respectfully enough, but on two occasions, American ships were attacked by Malaysian pirates, and the Americans sought revenge by burning and slaughtering Malaysian villagers who probably had had nothing to do with the piracy.
And if that wasn’t enough death and destruction, there’s a whole chapter on how the pepper trading ships ran out of provisions, and sought to restock on islands they passed, and how they found thousands and thousands of seals, and very tasty tortoises, and these flightless birds called dodoes. They didn’t just eat what they needed, but had orgies of killing.
Anyway, the Dutch East India Company collapsed from internal corruption, and the British company followed soon after. The idea of free trade arose, and that’s where we are now. But before that, the author quotes Voltaire as saying that all the world’s pepper was “dyed red with blood.”