European map making was revolutionised following Marco Polo's journey to and from China in 1271–92. Drawing on this, Europeans produced two famous maps, greatly in advance of what they had done before: the Catalan map of 1375, and especially Fra Mauro's map of 1458. East Asia had relatively sophisticated charts and maps by at least the fifteenth century.36 Mills has discussed in detail the Mao K'un map, which refers to the time of Zheng He's voyages.37 He considers it to be far superior to European maps of the same time, when the Portuguese had just started voyaging down the west African coast. This Chinese chart goes all the way from East Asia to India, and on to Persia, Arabia and East Africa. Mills' claim is that obviously Europeans did better in mapping the west, and Chinese the east; Chinese superiority is seen in their much better attempt to map the area in between, that is Arabia, India, and East Africa. This Chinese map showed a more accurate knowledge over a much larger area of the world than was available to Europeans at the same time. Several of their accounts depict a western and an eastern ocean, with the division at the Straits of Singapore. This is seen most clearly in the account by Wang Dayuan, who travelled extensively in the 1330s.38 My own brief to a large extent follows this division, for most of the time I also stop around these straits.
Even more extraordinary is the Korean Kangnido Map of 1402, which seems to draw on earlier Chinese and Arab works. It has clear delineations of Africa and the Arabian peninsular, and a recognisable outline of Europe, though India is submerged in the Chinese continent. Not surprisingly, Korea is shown as very large indeed, as large as all Africa. At a time when Europeans knew almost nothing of East Asia, this map has a clearly recognisable Mediterranean Sea, and Iberia, Italy and the Adriatic Sea. There are some hundred as yet unidentified place names in the Europe area, and about thirty-five in Africa, most of them on the southern Mediterranean coast.39
Another example of sophisticated map making comes from Java, and like the previous two shows that there was a large degree of interaction and exchange of knowledge between map makers at this time. In 1512 the Portuguese captain Albuquerque was shown a Javanese chart which delineated the Cape of Good Hope, Portugal, Brazil, the Red Sea, the Persian Gulf, the country where the gold is (Minangkabau in Sumatra), the clove islands, the Malukus, Java, the Banda islands, Siam, the navigation of the Chinese, and the courses followed by their ships. All the names are marked in Javanese script.40 This sort of interchange extended in some surprising directions. The Chinese, even if they did not travel, certainly picked up much information at second or third hand. One eighth-century Chinese author described the people of Bobali, which is somewhere in northern East Africa. They 'eat only meat. They often stick a needle into the veins of cattle and draw blood which they drink raw, mixed with milk.' Intriguing to find that this is clearly a description of the same people whom a sixteenth-century Portuguese cleric found. He wrote of the Segeju that 'They own much cattle, the milk and blood thereof being to them as food; they eat the flesh raw without any other manner of ordinary food, as it is said, and they bleed the oxen every other day.'41
Finally, another Muslim example, this time the Turk Piri Reis and his magnificent Kitab, completed in 1521 and now available in a stunning four volume facsimile edition with translation. He wrote of the 'great sea', that is the all-encircling sea:
All the others are united with the Bahr-Azam. The Ocean is the sea into which they are all collected. It encircles the world. It is the head of all the seas; from it all seas emerge and to it all return. As I have told you, the fact is that all the other seas are but gulfs of the Ocean. The sea is like a tree that spreads everywhere left and right. The source of them all is the Ocean, of which they are the branches and twigs.
He described the Portuguese voyages to India, and among other places identified Madeira, Cape Verde, Brazil, Abyssinia, and Mogadishu, which he says is near the entrance to the Red Sea. Below 55° S all is Darkness, and similarly above 55° N. He has a brief account of China, which he says is based on what the Portuguese say, and then a fabulous account of an island with all sorts of monstrous people, based on 'those who voyaged there'. His account of India is rather vague, and he thinks it is winter in India when it is summer in Europe. A few years after this Kitab he drew a map of the Atlantic which included the North American coast from Greenland to Florida, and was quite accurate.42
We have already quoted the famous Muslim traveller Ibn Battuta several times. This much-travelled scholar left a copious account of his travels and adventures all around the Indian Ocean and beyond, for he also visited many parts of Europe and West Africa; indeed he came from Morocco. In sum he covered 75,000 miles in a period of nearly thirty years. His travels date from the first half of the fourteenth century. In the rest of this chapter I intend to use him as a 'tin opener', to introduce the various topics I want to cover in this account of the Indian Ocean to about 1500. Each section will start with his observations, and will introduce my general discussion of the relevant topic, the latter based on other contemporary, and much secondary, literature. My intention here is rather different from Ross Dunn's.43 He has provided an excellent account of Ibn Battuta's travels and much detail to locate his descriptions. However, I will use his account merely to open up general matters to do with the Indian Ocean, such as port cities, piracy, the dangers of travels by sea, Muslim attitudes to sea travel, and especially his frequent mentions of a network of Islamic scholars, of whom he was one, who were spread all around the ocean, travelling frequently, and serving to spread and consolidate the faith. We will start with this topic.
We described in the previous chapter many Buddhist and Hindu people travelling to service or convert kings and others in southeast Asia, and a reverse flow of Buddhist pilgrims, especially from East Asia, going to India to see the holy places. However, the first of these declined as Buddhism declined in India. It was replaced by a circulation of students and pilgrims to the new centres of the faith, especially Sri Lanka, Burma and Thailand. The fact that Buddhism in India was slowly sucked back into a new Hinduism similarly meant that fewer from outside now wanted to visit the homeland of the faith, though some pilgrims continued to come, and indeed still do, to see the holy places associated with the life of the Buddha. Nevertheless, by this time the dominant religious circulation in the Indian Ocean was being done by Muslims, and Ibn Battuta gives us numerous accounts of such people.
In 1331 he was in Mogadishu. As a man of learning Ibn Battuta was very well treated, and lodged with the qadi. The Sultan spoke Arabic, but his first language was Maqdishi. Ibn Battuta was taken by the qadi, who had originated in Egypt, to the sultan. As a man who had come from al-Hijaz he was treated with respect. He was given robes, including a tunic of Egyptian linen, a furred mantle of Jerusalem stuff, and an Egyptian turban. There were many jurists, sharifs, sheikhs and people who had done a hajj in Mogadishu. Ibn Battuta then went on to Kilwa, then at its height of power and riches. He found the sultan to be very generous, and commented on the large number of sharifs from Iraq and the Hijaz and other countries who had flocked in to benefit from his pious patronage.44
Once he got to Malabar, Ibn Battuta found a similarly diverse assemblage of Muslims in positions of secular and religious authority. At one place the qadi and preacher was a man from Oman. The amir (leader) of the merchants in Calicut was from Bahrain. On one of the junks that he travelled on the factor was from Syria, while in Quilon the chief Muslim merchant was from Iraq, and the qadi from Qazwin.45
What our traveller is describing is a vast network of Muslims all around the periphery of the Indian Ocean. He was welcomed everywhere as a prestigious scholar, an exemplar of the faith. Yet our hero was not really a very prestigious person in the Muslim heartland. He would have been unlikely to flourish in Mecca or Damascus or Cairo, but he was a big fish in Delhi and other newer Islamic places such as the Swahili coast where rulers were keen to implant and strengthen Islam. His perhaps surprisingly cordial reception in so many places was probably helped by his own very stron
g sense of his own worth. He was rather self-important, and judgemental to a fault of other Muslims. He took it on himself to correct people who got things wrong, even merely in matters of pronunciation.
Ibn Battuta opens up three related matters, which were among the most significant occurring in the Indian Ocean in our period: conversions to Islam, and then efforts to consolidate the faith, and ties back to the centre. In our period, to the end of the fifteenth century, the first is most important, for this was the time when the relatively new religion spread rapidly. It will be remembered that the Prophet died in 632 CE. The faith spread rapidly by both land and sea from its origins in the Hijaz area of western Arabia: to Persia, Egypt, North Africa, areas now known as Syria, Turkey, Iraq, and even to northwest India in its first century. It also spread by sea, carried by existing Arab trade networks, which we found going back some centuries before these traders were converted to the new faith. It is this which will occupy our attention, more than the continuing matter, even to today, of the travels of Muslim scholars whose aim is to improve the observance of an existing Muslim community all around the ocean, to root out practices seen to be un-Islamic, and to rectify back-sliding. In short, we are looking at the creation of the community, rather than its consolidation. The latter will not be totally ignored, but it will be considered more fully in later chapters.
The cosmopolitan, international, aspect of Islam has often been cited as a prime motivation for conversion. Coastal people especially find their indigenous beliefs, localised and very specific, to be inadequate as their world expands. When they are exposed to a universal faith (in the case of the East African coast Islam was represented in their foreign business partners), the attraction is obvious, and can be widely seen all over the Indian Ocean world at this time.46
Parkin has suggested that it is more accurate to write of the
'acceptance' of Islam, which is likely to take longer and to be reciprocally inscribed in pre-existing custom and cosmology. The term conversion pre-supposes a shift from one to another unambiguously defined religion. Acceptance is less visibly dramatic and does not mean abandonment of a pre-existing cosmology. Yet it may well typify much Islamisation in the region in allowing for Islamic and non-Islamic traits to inter-mingle steadily.47
This means that we are looking at additive change much of the time, as opposed to substitutive change. The former implies that an existing body of belief is added to, while the latter means existing notions are cast aside and replaced. Conversion then is a process rather than an event, and may extend over several generations.
There is also the matter of coercion and the use of power, whether explicit or implicit. No doubt in many inland areas Islam spread in part through coercion. It is not a matter of Islam spreading at the point of a sword, but rather that as Muslim armies conquered huge territories many of the conquered adopted the religion of their new masters. This applies in most of the Middle East. However, in India, where the northwest was ruled by Muslims from the eighth century, and the north Indian heartland from the thirteenth, Hinduism proved remarkably resilient, so that only perhaps 10 per cent of the population accepted the religion of the sultans. In sociological terms, most Hindus had a firmly entrenched higher tier of belief already, and were not inclined to change to another, Islamic, one. In our area of concern, the Indian Ocean littoral, there was no opportunity for pressure of any kind in most cases.
There is then a contrast between coastal Islam, and Islam inland, and also between areas where Islam is the majority or even only religion, as compared with areas where it is a minority. Put briefly, Islam reached the southern part of the Arabian peninsular, that is Yemen and Hadhramaut, very early, travelling to this region by land. Of the areas in the Indian Ocean that Islam reached by sea, we know that Muslims had arrived on the Swahili coast by the mid eighth century, though at first this was a matter of Muslim traders from the Red Sea and Hadhramaut visiting, and erecting a mosque for their use. Over time some of these Arabs settled, and some of their neighbours in the port cities of this coast converted to Islam. There is evidence of a similar process on the coasts of India occurring rather earlier. Insular southeast Asia came later, and here the religion was spread more by Muslims who themselves were relatively recent converts from India, rather than people from the heartland. Ross Dunn has put the contrast between coastal Islam and that of the heartland very well:
In the Middle East an individual's sense of being part of an international social order varied considerably with his education and position in life. But in the Indian Ocean lands where Islam was a minority faith, all Muslims shared acutely this feeling of participation. Simply to be a Muslim in East Africa, southern India, or Malaysia in the fourteenth century was to have a cosmopolitan frame of mind.
This was reinforced by the coastal location and the fact that most of them were traders, and so had to be aware of distant markets and people and places.48
We will now look at each area, that is East Africa, India, and southeast Asia, in turn. There has been considerable public interest in the date of the first conversions, and the beginnings of an Islamic presence in East Africa. The record shows very clearly that there were trading contacts from the Arab world to East Africa before the beginnings of Islam. For the first century of the Christian era the Periplus mentioned quite extensive contacts between East Africa and Yemen, and also noted that there was extensive intercourse and intermarriage between these Arab traders and the locals. Pre-Islamic ceramics from the Middle East have been found in both Somalia and Mozambique. These are mostly Persian of the Sassanian period.49 As these traders converted, they kept on trading, to East Africa among many other places. The very earliest mosques, dating back perhaps to the mid or even early eighth century, were constructed to service these itinerants, some of whom may even have settled. They were very small, and made of non-durable materials: wood or wattle and daub.
The earliest Muslim accounts of East Africa reflect very clearly that the locals had not converted. The tenth century 'Wonders of India', a collection of Arab stories, describes 'Zanj' as a strange uncouth place, with sorcerers, cannibals, strange birds and fishes.50 Al-Biruni, in the early eleventh century, still finds East Africa a wild and largely un-Islamic place.51 It was from the later eleventh century that the locals were converted, and we can talk for the first time of a Swahili civilisation, that is if we follow Middleton and see a defining characteristic of the Swahili being that they are Muslims.52 In this century earlier wooden mosques at Kilwa were enlarged and constructed in stone. By around 1300 the main mosque at Kilwa was some 12 metres by 30 metres, implying a very large Muslim resident population.53 Wright has pointed out that all the larger communities seem to have accepted Islam at roughly the same time, that is primarily in the twelfth century and a few years on either side of this.54
Conversion, even if 'partial', served to further distinguish the shore dwellers, the Swahili, from their inland neighbours. This coastal society, because of its location, was much more open to wider influences from across the Indian Ocean than were people in the interior; their acceptance of Islam is part of this greater exposure. Yet their new religion was heavily impregnated with pre-Islamic indigenous beliefs, as we will see presently.
Arabs had long traded with the Indian coast, and Indians with the Arab world. When the Arabs became Muslims they continued to trade, and conversions in littoral India occurred very early, long before Muslims ruled large areas of the inland subcontinent. An early Portuguese account of the process of conversion stresses that rigid Hindu caste divisions in Malabar led to many conversions among the lowest groups. Correia's account describes both the mix of trade and religion which proved so successful, and the way the Islamic stress on the equality of all believers fostered conversions, producing the indigenous Muslim Mapillah community. He described the dominance of the Nairs in this area, and the degraded position of the lower castes. Muslims, presumably from the Red Sea area given that this was the major trading area for Malabar, pointe
d out to the (Hindu) rulers that the low caste porters were unable to move about freely in the area, because if they ran into Nairs they would be killed. But if these low caste Malabaris converted to Islam 'they would be able to go freely where they wished, because once they became Muslims they were immediately outside of the law of the Malabaris, and their customs, and they would be able to travel on the roads and mingle with all sorts of people.' This argument, plus a few bribes, convinced the rulers, who gave their consent. The actual conversion of these much-oppressed people was easy, for they could then live where they pleased and eat what they wanted. They also received clothing from the Muslims. The result was a great success for this Muslim conversion drive, which in turn spilt over into trading success, especially in the spice trade to the Red Sea.55
Another very early Portuguese account makes clear that the Mapillahs by no means abandoned all their previous Hindu customs:
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