Historians have studied the Age of Exploration for centuries. Americans above and below the Rio Grande owe the formation of their national histories to efforts made by Transoceanic explorers from the Italian city-states, Spain, Portugal, and later England and France. Historian Giancarlo Casale turns our focus away from our familiar Eurocentric and Atlantic visions and explores the lesser known efforts made by Ottoman navigators in the Red Sea, Indian Ocean, and Swahili Coast throughout the sixteenth century. His work, Ottoman Age of Exploration (2010), attempts to upend the notion that the Ottoman Empire was primarily a land-based empire focused primarily on territorial acquisitions in the Balkans, Near East, and Persia. His aim is to highlight the achievements of navigators and cartographers such as Selman Reis, Miri Ali Beg, and Piri Reis. Casale argues that while the Ottomans failed to attain direct control of the Indian Ocean trade, their continuous efforts undermined and bankrupted their Portuguese rivals. He concedes that a combination of environmental factors, prohibitive costs, lack of sufficient maritime technology, and a cascade of small competing states limited Ottoman expansion to the Red Sea and Persian Gulf. He writes that the “improbably complex and exorbitantly expensive logistical effort” made direct control impossible by the beginning of the seventeenth century. Still, the sultan maintained jurisdiction over Red Sea trade routes and their access to the holy cities of Mecca and Medina. This sixteenth century development had an impact that would last until the First World War and dissolution of the sultanate.
The Ottoman Age of Exploration is a multifaceted book that blends themes in intellectual history, environmental history, and a new relatively field known “Encounter Studies.” Casale also aims to tell the story of Ottoman exploration from a narrative as well as biographical standpoint. Whole chapters are dedicated to policy decisions made by the “Indian Ocean faction,” vaguely defined as a combination of viziers, admirals, navigators, and cartographers who sought to influence the priorities and decisions made by the sultan. Casale also does an excellent job highlighting the multiethnic backgrounds of those who engaged in exploration. Explorers such as Sinan the Jew and Mamluk Egyptian Selman Reis display the polyglot nature of Ottoman expansion. Compared to the crusading ideology of Portuguese sailors, the Ottoman navigators come across as more level headed and strategic than their foes. Ottoman navigators had to adapt from the Mediterranean the style of naval warfare to more resourceful tactics required in the Indian Ocean and Persian Gulf. Ottoman viziers also pushed for a canal to be built in Suez, which eventually falls apart due to lack of resources and unfeasibility. The Ottoman Age of Exploration also excels in tracing the intellectual history of Ottoman cartography, much of which was kept in the Topkapi Palace as a state secret and was not distributed to the general public. Casale aims to highlight the Ottomans as not a static state, but an empire whose vision of the world was adapting with the time.
The main weakness of book is that the title is misleading. Exploration implies discovery, but the Indian Ocean trade networks were well established and understood by Indian, Chinese, and Portuguese sailors before the Ottomans arrived around 1520. Casale counters this argument by arguing that the discovery occurred “in the mind” of the Ottomans. One wonders do the Ottomans need to be masters of the Indian Ocean in order to have significance in world history? The second major criticism is that the war against the Portuguese was a sideshow compared to events that took place in the Balkans, the Mediterranean, and Persia. Casale is eventually forced to discuss topics that are of major significance such as the Safavid Wars in the 1530s and the outcome of the Battle of Lepanto in 1571 that drained resources, manpower, and intellectual focus from the Indian Ocean theater. There is also a sense that the many of the navigators that were hired by the Ottomans were plucked from an established Mamluk, Jewish, and Greek maritime cultures. The ethnic diversity that makes the book so interesting also shows that these naval expeditions were subcontracted to their subjects. But the main criticism is that, though the Ottoman navy adapted to the difficulties presented by the Indian Ocean, they were overall unsuccessful at achieving their goals and by 1565 had to resort to a “Soft Empire,” whereby Indian and Arab states collected taxes and controlled trade on behalf of the Ottoman Empire. This system eventually descended into corruption, mismanagement, and in time, irrelevance.
The Ottoman Age of Exploration utilizes sources from both the Ottoman and European worlds. In the bibliography, Casale organizes these sources into two distinct sections. A list of secondary sources numbers several hundred. Illustrations that display maps and drawings of ships have been taken from the Topkapi Palace Museum and the Istanbul Archaeological Museum. Many of the maps Casale discusses cannot be found on the internet. It is clear that he has referenced these sources directly from the Turkish, Spanish, and Italian museum archives. The author also utilizes sources in a highly effective manner that helps move the narrative along and gives balance to an overly Ottoman or Eurocentric perspective. Casale is sometimes forced to utilize only Portuguese sources when Ottoman sources are insufficient. He is careful to note this when using such a source. One minor criticism might be that there seems to be a lack of Indian and African sources in the bibliography. But one wonders if such sources even exist or were accessible to the author.
The Ottoman Age of Exploration received mostly positive reviews from historians in several different book review journals. Casale’s colleagues praised his attempt to highlight an obscure topic in a neglected region. One historian compared his use of a global history framework to the popular world historian Felipe Fernández-Armesto. Another historian wrote that “the work is a success, not because it is the definitive account of the period, but because it whets the scholarly appetite for many of the themes and issues Casale has raised.” But there were also criticisms. One historian argued that Casale’s “rhetorical excesses mar the argument.” But this criticism could also be considered one of the strengths of The Ottoman Age of Exploration. Casale gives a narrative voice to sailors, navigators, and visionaries who have until recently only been considered pirates and corsairs in a overtly Eurocentric historiography. Casale’s attempt to build a narrative, when in reality the Ottoman “Age of Exploration” was probably more practical and opportunistic than ideological, might also be a leap of creative prose, but is still true to the historian’s craft.