The extended title explains and perhaps excuses the writer’s wish to write as if the Silk Road was in competition, while such labels conflating Indian sea routes with Chinese land routes not only give false impressions but forget that these are romantic and recent labels that are not useful for understanding Asian and European historical relationships. The other problem that Dalrymple faced was that the evidence for the Indian influences is indeed ancient, consisting of Roman coins, rock inscriptions on cliffs, temple and monastery carvings, paintings on cave walls and the rare, often fragmentary manuscripts that survived wars and destruction. For me, this problem meant that I found the earlier parts of this book occasionally confusing and less engaging until the early modern era provided historical characters and a stronger narrative interest available from the greater amount of evidence available.
The ancient exceptions provided increased interest. A Chinese monk Xuanzana learnt Sanskrit, travelled to India and brought learned texts and Buddhism to China where Empress Wu was a convert who probably was more interested in using the astronomical information for favourable astrological predictions than Buddhist philosophy or ways of living. Nevertheless, at the end of her reign there were more Buddhists In China than in India where the religion was in decline. The fact that Xuanzana wrote an autobiography, extraordinary in that period, gave me more interest. On his return visit to India he found monasteries abandoned, impoverished or even disappeared as Buddhists had no armies. Hindu gods prevailed but the new Moslem Arabian rulers took up Indian maths and astronomy.
Dalrymple calls this transmission of ideas, ‘the diaspora of the gods’ but it came via the sea routes, dependent on the monsoon winds that took Indian trading to both Arabia and South East Asia. Here Buddhism became more localised, mixing Buddhist and Hindu figures with the epic stories of The Mahabharata and The Ramayana in the gigantic complexes of Borabudur and Angkor Wat, the latter built on the plan of a mandala and surpassing the entire Vatican state in area, using more stone than the largest pyramid in Egypt and completed in 1131CE after only 32 years of construction.
Another surprise for me was the foundation of Baghdad in 764 CE as a city of peace, planned on a mandala. Here in 773, an Indian Buddhist, Barmakid, was the chief Vizier to the Sultan and brought the most significant mathematical text, the Sindhind to the Moslem regions where 300 years later in 1187 in Spain, it was translated into Latin and finally brought the concept of zero to Europe. There, the meridian of longitude was still the one based on the Gupta capital in 7th century India. Dalrymple points out the other many ironies involved in the story of the spread of Indian mathematical ideas, one being that the concept of zero led to double entry bookkeeping that led to European companies such as the English East India Company, reversing the transfer of wealth from Roman Europe to India and creating the British and Dutch empires from the wealth of India, South East Asia and China. Roger II of Sicily, king of the most multicultural regime in Europe, minted the first coin to use Indian numerals. The learning centres of Buddhist monasteries and Moslem madrassas led to the foundation of the first universities in Europe from Paris in 1180 and in Pisa, a mathematician, known by his nickname Fibonacci, observed the domestic caged mating of rabbits to create his now famous sequence of numbers. Genghis Khan in 1224 was spooked by seeing rhinoceros and turned north rather than continuing to India, thus causing Persians to flee south and create the Mughal empire and the long reign of Akbar 1542-1605, similar in time, creativity and cultural accomplishments to that of Elizabeth I in England. The more Dalrymple’s writing focussed on the human story, the more I enjoyed reading it.