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Crossing the Bay of Bengal: The Furies of Nature and the Fortunes of Migrants
The Indian Ocean was global long before the Atlantic, and today the countries bordering the Bay of Bengal India, Bangladesh, Burma, Sri Lanka, Thailand, and Malaysia are home to one in four people on Earth. Crossing the Bay of Bengal places this region at the heart of world history for the first time. Integrating human and environmental history, and mining a wealth of sources, Sunil Amrith gives a revelatory and stirring new account of the Bay and those who have inhabited it.
For centuries the Bay of Bengal served as a maritime highway between India and China, and then as a battleground for European empires, all while being shaped by the monsoons and by human migration. Imperial powers in the nineteenth century, abetted by the force of capital and the power of steam, reconfigured the Bay in their quest for coffee, rice, and rubber. Millions of Indian migrants crossed the sea, bound by debt or spurred by drought, and filled with ambition. Booming port cities like Singapore and Penang became the most culturally diverse societies of their time. By the 1930s, however, economic, political, and environmental pressures began to erode the Bay s centuries-old patterns of interconnection.
Today, rising waters leave the Bay of Bengal s shores especially vulnerable to climate change, at the same time that its location makes it central to struggles over Asia s future. Amrith s evocative and compelling narrative of the region s pasts offers insights critical to understanding and confronting the many challenges facing Asia in the decades ahead.
"
For centuries the Bay of Bengal served as a maritime highway between India and China, and then as a battleground for European empires, all while being shaped by the monsoons and by human migration. Imperial powers in the nineteenth century, abetted by the force of capital and the power of steam, reconfigured the Bay in their quest for coffee, rice, and rubber. Millions of Indian migrants crossed the sea, bound by debt or spurred by drought, and filled with ambition. Booming port cities like Singapore and Penang became the most culturally diverse societies of their time. By the 1930s, however, economic, political, and environmental pressures began to erode the Bay s centuries-old patterns of interconnection.
Today, rising waters leave the Bay of Bengal s shores especially vulnerable to climate change, at the same time that its location makes it central to struggles over Asia s future. Amrith s evocative and compelling narrative of the region s pasts offers insights critical to understanding and confronting the many challenges facing Asia in the decades ahead.
"
368 pages, Hardcover
First published October 7, 2013
35 people are currently reading
459 people want to read
About the author
Sunil Amrith
14 books39 followersSunil Amrith is Mehra Family Professor of South Asian Studies and Professor of History, and a Director of the Joint Center for History and Economics.
Sunil Amrith grew up in Singapore, and received a B.A. (2000) and Ph.D. (2005) from the University of Cambridge. He was a research fellow of Trinity College at the University of Cambridge (2004–2006) and taught modern Asian history at Birkbeck College of the University of London (2006–2014) prior to joining the faculty of Harvard University, where he is currently Mehra Family Professor of South Asian Studies and a professor of history. He is also a director of the Harvard Center for History and Economics. His additional publications include Decolonizing International Health: India and Southeast Asia, 1930–65 (2006) and Sites of Asian Interaction: Ideas, Networks and Mobility (co-editor, 2014).
His research is on the trans-regional movement of people, ideas, and institutions, and has focused most recently on the Bay of Bengal as a region connecting South and Southeast Asia. Amrith's areas of particular interest include the history of migration, environmental history, and the history of public health. He is a 2017 MacArthur Fellow, and received the 2016 Infosys Prize in Humanities.
Sunil Amrith is a historian exploring migration in South and Southeast Asia and its role in shaping present-day social and cultural dynamics. His focus on migration, rather than political forces such as colonial empires and the formation of modern nations, demonstrates that South Asia (primarily India, Bangladesh, and Sri Lanka) and Southeast Asia (including Myanmar, Thailand, Malaysia, and Singapore) are tied by centuries of movement of people and goods around and across the Bay of Bengal.
In Migration and Diaspora in Modern Asia (2011) and Crossing the Bay of Bengal (2013), Amrith combines the theoretical frameworks of oceanic and environmental history with archival, ethnographic, and visual research to chart how migration transformed individuals, families, and communities. Using narratives and records left by coastal traders, merchants, and migrants, he evokes the lives of ordinary Indians who made homes in new lands across the bay. Amrith's examination of the emergence of diverse, multiethnic coastal communities sheds new light on the social and political consequences of colonization. Colonialism diminished some of the intimate cultural, social, and economic connections among the peoples of coastal areas while enabling new ones. Many bonds finally snapped during decolonization, however, when defining national boundaries and national identity became the priority.
Amrith's analysis of the forces driving migration in Crossing the Bay of Bengal takes into account the ways in which climatic patterns around the bay defined the lives of migrants and coastal residents. He will expand on this work in his current project on the history of environmental change in Asia, focusing particularly on the monsoon in the context of a changing climate. Amrith is leading a reorientation of South and Southeast Asian history and opening new avenues for understanding the region's place in global history.
Amrith's most recent book is Unruly Waters (Basic Books and Penguin UK), a history of the struggle to understand and control water in modern South Asia. His previous book, Crossing the Bay of Bengal: The Furies of Nature and the Fortunes of Migrants (Harvard University Press, 2013) was awarded the American Historical Association's John F. Richards Prize in South Asian History in 2014. He is also the author of Migration and Diaspora in Modern Asia (Cambridge University Press, 2011), and Decolonizing International Health: South and Southeast Asia, 1930-1965 (Palgrave, 2006), as well as articles in journals including the American Historical Review, Past and Present, and Economic and Political Weekly.
Amrith sits on the editorial boards of Modern Asian Studies and is one of the series editors of the Cambr
Sunil Amrith grew up in Singapore, and received a B.A. (2000) and Ph.D. (2005) from the University of Cambridge. He was a research fellow of Trinity College at the University of Cambridge (2004–2006) and taught modern Asian history at Birkbeck College of the University of London (2006–2014) prior to joining the faculty of Harvard University, where he is currently Mehra Family Professor of South Asian Studies and a professor of history. He is also a director of the Harvard Center for History and Economics. His additional publications include Decolonizing International Health: India and Southeast Asia, 1930–65 (2006) and Sites of Asian Interaction: Ideas, Networks and Mobility (co-editor, 2014).
His research is on the trans-regional movement of people, ideas, and institutions, and has focused most recently on the Bay of Bengal as a region connecting South and Southeast Asia. Amrith's areas of particular interest include the history of migration, environmental history, and the history of public health. He is a 2017 MacArthur Fellow, and received the 2016 Infosys Prize in Humanities.
Sunil Amrith is a historian exploring migration in South and Southeast Asia and its role in shaping present-day social and cultural dynamics. His focus on migration, rather than political forces such as colonial empires and the formation of modern nations, demonstrates that South Asia (primarily India, Bangladesh, and Sri Lanka) and Southeast Asia (including Myanmar, Thailand, Malaysia, and Singapore) are tied by centuries of movement of people and goods around and across the Bay of Bengal.
In Migration and Diaspora in Modern Asia (2011) and Crossing the Bay of Bengal (2013), Amrith combines the theoretical frameworks of oceanic and environmental history with archival, ethnographic, and visual research to chart how migration transformed individuals, families, and communities. Using narratives and records left by coastal traders, merchants, and migrants, he evokes the lives of ordinary Indians who made homes in new lands across the bay. Amrith's examination of the emergence of diverse, multiethnic coastal communities sheds new light on the social and political consequences of colonization. Colonialism diminished some of the intimate cultural, social, and economic connections among the peoples of coastal areas while enabling new ones. Many bonds finally snapped during decolonization, however, when defining national boundaries and national identity became the priority.
Amrith's analysis of the forces driving migration in Crossing the Bay of Bengal takes into account the ways in which climatic patterns around the bay defined the lives of migrants and coastal residents. He will expand on this work in his current project on the history of environmental change in Asia, focusing particularly on the monsoon in the context of a changing climate. Amrith is leading a reorientation of South and Southeast Asian history and opening new avenues for understanding the region's place in global history.
Amrith's most recent book is Unruly Waters (Basic Books and Penguin UK), a history of the struggle to understand and control water in modern South Asia. His previous book, Crossing the Bay of Bengal: The Furies of Nature and the Fortunes of Migrants (Harvard University Press, 2013) was awarded the American Historical Association's John F. Richards Prize in South Asian History in 2014. He is also the author of Migration and Diaspora in Modern Asia (Cambridge University Press, 2011), and Decolonizing International Health: South and Southeast Asia, 1930-1965 (Palgrave, 2006), as well as articles in journals including the American Historical Review, Past and Present, and Economic and Political Weekly.
Amrith sits on the editorial boards of Modern Asian Studies and is one of the series editors of the Cambr
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Displaying 1 - 18 of 18 reviews
September 14, 2015
This is broad overview of the connections uniting the peoples and countries that surround the rim of the Bay of Bengal in the eastern Indian Ocean. The book does not have a particularly strong plan to it, but generally follows a chronological history of the movement of peoples between India, Ceylon / Sri Lanka, Burma, Malay(si)a, and Singapore from the early British colonial period through the present. It’s more of a social history than a political one, although the discussions in the later chapters about how nationalist independence movements redefined previously fluid questions of citizenship and right to belong in a place, and subsequently shut down what had historically been an extensive circular exchange, are some of the book’s most interesting. The author digresses at points to look at shared architectural and religious practices, and the environmental history of the Bay (the penultimate chapter focuses largely on climate change and environmental degradation, and the prospects that this will push a return to greater migration in the future), but doesn’t approach those subjects especially systematically.
These and other aspects of the story could be expanded upon into book-length studies of their own, and while the book's coverage attempts to span from individual experience to high-level economic forces, I expect there is much more detail that could be recounted about the experiences of the various diaspora communities in their respective colonial and post-colonial territories. The book itself self-consciously sets out to transcend these boundaries and make the case that the Bay’s shores constitute a political and social community worth studying as a whole in its own right. It’s an interesting approach and makes for a good introductory overview to the history of migration around the Bay, but I’m not sure if it would be useful for readers more familiar with this particular region. 3.5 stars for me, and will inspire future reading.
These and other aspects of the story could be expanded upon into book-length studies of their own, and while the book's coverage attempts to span from individual experience to high-level economic forces, I expect there is much more detail that could be recounted about the experiences of the various diaspora communities in their respective colonial and post-colonial territories. The book itself self-consciously sets out to transcend these boundaries and make the case that the Bay’s shores constitute a political and social community worth studying as a whole in its own right. It’s an interesting approach and makes for a good introductory overview to the history of migration around the Bay, but I’m not sure if it would be useful for readers more familiar with this particular region. 3.5 stars for me, and will inspire future reading.
March 11, 2021
Today, South Asia and South East Asia have come to be seen as distinct entities, with different historical trajectories and areas of study. The Bay of Bengal is the boundary that divides the two. Sunil Amrith challenges this notion, and refocuses attention on the Bay as a distinct geographical unit, a uniter of the peoples and polities in its littoral rather than the dividing line. But the narrower focus--though considerable space is devoted to cultural, economic and political developments--is on the movement of people across the Bay of Bengal.
From ancient times, people have cross the Bay in either direction due to a remarkable climactic phenomenon, the monsoon. With predictable winds blowing in one direction during one season and reversing course in the next, the Bay proved to be ideally suited for navigation and trade. A steady trade emerged between the Coromandel and Carnatic coasts in eastern India and the coasts of Burma, Thailand and Sumatra, and thereafter through the straits of Malacca to the South China Sea and onward to China. The ports on the Bay's littoral attracted a cosmopolitan blend of traders, sailors and adventurers - Arabs, Tamil Muslims, Klings (Oriyas, the so-called "Kalingas"), Acehnese, Malays, Gujaratis, Javanese, Moluccans, Chinese, Omanis, Siamese and so on. This traffic resulted in the sharing of cultural and religious influences - from early Hindu and Buddhist religious influences, architecture, and cuisine. Islam too reached South East Asia through trading networks.
From the late 15th century, they were joined by Europeans as well - initially Portuguese, and later joined by the Dutch and the English as well. The Dutch, recently liberated after their revolt against Spain (with which Portugal was also aligned at that time) were bitter enemies of the Portuguese. Whereas earlier traders were willing to share space, the Europeans brought ideas about ownership and exclusion, of using armed strength to keep out rivals from lucrative trade routes. Raids, piracy and conflict became more common in the years since the European entry. Initially the Europeans focused on the carry trade: with few home commodities they could export to Asia, Europeans essentially picked up goods in one part to be transported and sold in another. Access to New World gold and silver was invaluable to the Europeans at this time: these metals flowed to Asia in return for spices from the Malabar coast and the Coromandel. Indian cloth found a market in South East Asia to be traded for spices. Tea, that proved to be enormously popular in Europe, resulted in unsustainable flows of bullion to China. Later, the British came up with the idea of trading Indian opium and textiles (procured with Indian land revenues) for Chinese tea, essentially taxing India to pay for Europe's addiction to tea. And tea, with another colonial import sugar, provided the calories and stimulation that fueled the emerging industrial working class in England. (See my Goodreads review of Sidney Mintz's "Sweetness and Power.")
Interestingly, one of the powers who competed for influence in the Bay of Bengal at this time was the Mughal empire, that was expanding into Bengal in the mid 16th century (Akbar) and into South India in the mid-to-late 17th century (Aurangzeb). By the early to mid-17th century, the Portuguese were eliminated as a power except for a tiny stronghold (Goa), and eventually the Dutch too gave up most of their possessions in India and Ceylon and became confined to mostly Indonesia. The English shrewdly invested in a series of strategic ports along the Straits of Malacca -
Penang, Malacca and Singapore - that became the Straits settlements. That, combined with their dominant position in India (which included Burma at that time) made the Bay of Bengal virtually a British lake.
Amrith's book largely focuses on the movement of peoples during this time across the Bay of Bengal, mostly from the "population surplus" provinces of southern and eastern India, to the rest of the littoral - Ceylon, Burma, and the Straits Settlements. Amrith differentiates between different phases of this movement. In the 18th century, the movement was dominated by soldiers for the British garrisons and the civilian "bazaar contingent" that followed them: cooks, "coolies," washermen, grooms, entertainers and the inevitable prostitutes. Convict labor was also used, especially in the Straits Settlement, but mortality rates were high, and after 1857 there was also increasing fear that political exiles might foment trouble in the Settlements. With local opposition, convict labor was gradually reduced.
In the 19th century, a confluence of factors created demand for a new type of human traffic: indentured labor. By mid-century, the invention of the steamship had finally broken the tyranny of the monsoon on cross-Bay sailing, and made possible quicker and more frequent transportation. Simultaneously, railroads were opening up paths to the interior and enabling a new plantation economy. South Indians, considered to be pliable and obedient, were prime recruits for labor on these new plantations; from the northern Madras Presidency and the Bengal Presidency to Burma and from southern Madras to Malaya and singapore. A system soon emerged to obtain this labor: recruiting agents called 'kanganeys,' laws on migration and residency, transportation, etc.
But conditions on the plantations were not good. The labor of felling trees and clearing boulders was back-breaking, the quarters jam-packed, and diseases rampant. Tens of thousands fell sick of unfamiliar tropical diseases and had to be repatriated, thousands of others died. Abuses by 'kanganeys' were also common: deception and trickery were common and even outright kidnapping was not unknown. Well-meaning British officials began to ask questions and file reports about abuses in their districts. The rising political class in India began to see as shameful the lowly position of their countrymen in foreign lands. Eventually, by the 1870s, indentured labor was stopped.
But the movement of people did not cease. The growing economies of South East Asia were perpetually starved of labor, both at the low end and for professionals and clerical positions. Large numbers of Indians continued to make the voyage across the Bay of Bengal, but now voluntarily. By this time, small diasporic communities existed in many South East Asian states. New migrants often relied on introductions, as well initial lodging and boarding, provided by their family members across the Bay. Cities such as Rangoon, Penang and Singapore were popular destinations for many young Indian men (and some women) much like the Gulf was to become in the 1980s and 90s.
By the 1930s, new trends were emerging. One was nationalism, especially in Burma where it was also exacerbated by economic resentment. Chettiar-owned banking networks dominated the small towns and rural areas. These moneylenders raised their capital from British banks and lent to thousands of homeowners and small farmers. But the U.S. Great Depression and rising war fears in Europe dried up capital, and made the Chettiars force many smallholders into forfeiture. Nationalist monks used the occasion to fan anti-Indian riots. In 1937, Burma was also formally separated from India and made into an independent colony of the British Empire.
A far bigger catastrophe was the Second World War, that forced many terrified Indians in Burma to evacuate first to the bigger cities, and then into ramshackle refugee camps along the Indian border. (An interesting anecdote related by Amrith - there is still a community of Tamil speakers in somewhere in India's north east, who emigrated from Tamil Nadu ages ago to Burma, and from there during the War to the north east.) Amrith also discusses the saga of the Indian National Army, British sepoys taken prisoner after the fall of Singapore, and then volunteering on the Japanese side to help liberate the motherland.
Two final chapters round out the book, the first on minority populations in countries such as Malaysia and Singapore forging a new hyphenated identity, and the second on how the Bay of Bengal may yet emerge as a distinct geographic entity due to global warming. The problems of the Bay and its littoral including rising sea levels, depletion of fisheries, increasing pollution and fertilizer runoffs, intensifying storms, etc. can be dealt with only through international cooperation.
From ancient times, people have cross the Bay in either direction due to a remarkable climactic phenomenon, the monsoon. With predictable winds blowing in one direction during one season and reversing course in the next, the Bay proved to be ideally suited for navigation and trade. A steady trade emerged between the Coromandel and Carnatic coasts in eastern India and the coasts of Burma, Thailand and Sumatra, and thereafter through the straits of Malacca to the South China Sea and onward to China. The ports on the Bay's littoral attracted a cosmopolitan blend of traders, sailors and adventurers - Arabs, Tamil Muslims, Klings (Oriyas, the so-called "Kalingas"), Acehnese, Malays, Gujaratis, Javanese, Moluccans, Chinese, Omanis, Siamese and so on. This traffic resulted in the sharing of cultural and religious influences - from early Hindu and Buddhist religious influences, architecture, and cuisine. Islam too reached South East Asia through trading networks.
From the late 15th century, they were joined by Europeans as well - initially Portuguese, and later joined by the Dutch and the English as well. The Dutch, recently liberated after their revolt against Spain (with which Portugal was also aligned at that time) were bitter enemies of the Portuguese. Whereas earlier traders were willing to share space, the Europeans brought ideas about ownership and exclusion, of using armed strength to keep out rivals from lucrative trade routes. Raids, piracy and conflict became more common in the years since the European entry. Initially the Europeans focused on the carry trade: with few home commodities they could export to Asia, Europeans essentially picked up goods in one part to be transported and sold in another. Access to New World gold and silver was invaluable to the Europeans at this time: these metals flowed to Asia in return for spices from the Malabar coast and the Coromandel. Indian cloth found a market in South East Asia to be traded for spices. Tea, that proved to be enormously popular in Europe, resulted in unsustainable flows of bullion to China. Later, the British came up with the idea of trading Indian opium and textiles (procured with Indian land revenues) for Chinese tea, essentially taxing India to pay for Europe's addiction to tea. And tea, with another colonial import sugar, provided the calories and stimulation that fueled the emerging industrial working class in England. (See my Goodreads review of Sidney Mintz's "Sweetness and Power.")
Interestingly, one of the powers who competed for influence in the Bay of Bengal at this time was the Mughal empire, that was expanding into Bengal in the mid 16th century (Akbar) and into South India in the mid-to-late 17th century (Aurangzeb). By the early to mid-17th century, the Portuguese were eliminated as a power except for a tiny stronghold (Goa), and eventually the Dutch too gave up most of their possessions in India and Ceylon and became confined to mostly Indonesia. The English shrewdly invested in a series of strategic ports along the Straits of Malacca -
Penang, Malacca and Singapore - that became the Straits settlements. That, combined with their dominant position in India (which included Burma at that time) made the Bay of Bengal virtually a British lake.
Amrith's book largely focuses on the movement of peoples during this time across the Bay of Bengal, mostly from the "population surplus" provinces of southern and eastern India, to the rest of the littoral - Ceylon, Burma, and the Straits Settlements. Amrith differentiates between different phases of this movement. In the 18th century, the movement was dominated by soldiers for the British garrisons and the civilian "bazaar contingent" that followed them: cooks, "coolies," washermen, grooms, entertainers and the inevitable prostitutes. Convict labor was also used, especially in the Straits Settlement, but mortality rates were high, and after 1857 there was also increasing fear that political exiles might foment trouble in the Settlements. With local opposition, convict labor was gradually reduced.
In the 19th century, a confluence of factors created demand for a new type of human traffic: indentured labor. By mid-century, the invention of the steamship had finally broken the tyranny of the monsoon on cross-Bay sailing, and made possible quicker and more frequent transportation. Simultaneously, railroads were opening up paths to the interior and enabling a new plantation economy. South Indians, considered to be pliable and obedient, were prime recruits for labor on these new plantations; from the northern Madras Presidency and the Bengal Presidency to Burma and from southern Madras to Malaya and singapore. A system soon emerged to obtain this labor: recruiting agents called 'kanganeys,' laws on migration and residency, transportation, etc.
But conditions on the plantations were not good. The labor of felling trees and clearing boulders was back-breaking, the quarters jam-packed, and diseases rampant. Tens of thousands fell sick of unfamiliar tropical diseases and had to be repatriated, thousands of others died. Abuses by 'kanganeys' were also common: deception and trickery were common and even outright kidnapping was not unknown. Well-meaning British officials began to ask questions and file reports about abuses in their districts. The rising political class in India began to see as shameful the lowly position of their countrymen in foreign lands. Eventually, by the 1870s, indentured labor was stopped.
But the movement of people did not cease. The growing economies of South East Asia were perpetually starved of labor, both at the low end and for professionals and clerical positions. Large numbers of Indians continued to make the voyage across the Bay of Bengal, but now voluntarily. By this time, small diasporic communities existed in many South East Asian states. New migrants often relied on introductions, as well initial lodging and boarding, provided by their family members across the Bay. Cities such as Rangoon, Penang and Singapore were popular destinations for many young Indian men (and some women) much like the Gulf was to become in the 1980s and 90s.
By the 1930s, new trends were emerging. One was nationalism, especially in Burma where it was also exacerbated by economic resentment. Chettiar-owned banking networks dominated the small towns and rural areas. These moneylenders raised their capital from British banks and lent to thousands of homeowners and small farmers. But the U.S. Great Depression and rising war fears in Europe dried up capital, and made the Chettiars force many smallholders into forfeiture. Nationalist monks used the occasion to fan anti-Indian riots. In 1937, Burma was also formally separated from India and made into an independent colony of the British Empire.
A far bigger catastrophe was the Second World War, that forced many terrified Indians in Burma to evacuate first to the bigger cities, and then into ramshackle refugee camps along the Indian border. (An interesting anecdote related by Amrith - there is still a community of Tamil speakers in somewhere in India's north east, who emigrated from Tamil Nadu ages ago to Burma, and from there during the War to the north east.) Amrith also discusses the saga of the Indian National Army, British sepoys taken prisoner after the fall of Singapore, and then volunteering on the Japanese side to help liberate the motherland.
Two final chapters round out the book, the first on minority populations in countries such as Malaysia and Singapore forging a new hyphenated identity, and the second on how the Bay of Bengal may yet emerge as a distinct geographic entity due to global warming. The problems of the Bay and its littoral including rising sea levels, depletion of fisheries, increasing pollution and fertilizer runoffs, intensifying storms, etc. can be dealt with only through international cooperation.
April 17, 2022
3.7 stars.
Rereading this book a second time - this time without the cramming fevered rush of a grad class to attend; without an instructor salty and bitter at the author - made me more partial to it. Some of these sentences were so beautifully rendered, and after ranging about the world history literature a few years on has made me happy that this book exists, because it's shocking how rarely Malaya appears in the histories of modern empires, let alone of the world. It's nice to have some shooters, as the zillennials say, on this side of the Bay of Bengal. As someone (only slightly) more familiar with the histories of Chinese migration, this book gave me an illuminating insight into the histories of South Asian migrants, and their place in the histories of 20th C British imperium.
I'm still skeptical about cramming so many centuries of history into such a short text, and at times i had the strange feeling of having to absorb too much while simultaneously moving on too quickly after a light skim, both speedrun x infodump... The book felt unfocused in certain places, but i suppose this is an almost inevitable flavor of a book with such an ambitious scope.
Nonetheless, a needful, illuminating book, compounded by my partiality toward works that highlight the place of Malaya and Singapore in the histories of this part of the world.
Rereading this book a second time - this time without the cramming fevered rush of a grad class to attend; without an instructor salty and bitter at the author - made me more partial to it. Some of these sentences were so beautifully rendered, and after ranging about the world history literature a few years on has made me happy that this book exists, because it's shocking how rarely Malaya appears in the histories of modern empires, let alone of the world. It's nice to have some shooters, as the zillennials say, on this side of the Bay of Bengal. As someone (only slightly) more familiar with the histories of Chinese migration, this book gave me an illuminating insight into the histories of South Asian migrants, and their place in the histories of 20th C British imperium.
I'm still skeptical about cramming so many centuries of history into such a short text, and at times i had the strange feeling of having to absorb too much while simultaneously moving on too quickly after a light skim, both speedrun x infodump... The book felt unfocused in certain places, but i suppose this is an almost inevitable flavor of a book with such an ambitious scope.
Nonetheless, a needful, illuminating book, compounded by my partiality toward works that highlight the place of Malaya and Singapore in the histories of this part of the world.
June 18, 2019
This book sat in my Amazon wish list for many months before I finally purchased it. What finally prompted me to buy it was when I moved to Myanmar and found myself asking questions about the country's geopolitics, its ability to balance interests in S/SE Asia, and my discovery of a robust Indian community in Yangon.
The book was, by no means, an easy read. It is incredibly fascinating and gives you many moments where you sit back and go, "damn, that makes A LOT of sense" but it is also super dense. I love reading historical narratives that allow me to both broaden my knowledge and place my identity in this hyper-globalized world, but this was definitely one of those books that I would have preferred to read for a class and discuss with peers.
Either way, it is fascinating in that it gives you the history of a (or two, if classified per modern geopolitics) region through a water body. It also allows the reader to place S/SE Asia's present history in a postcolonial context and reaffirms that so many regional differences are simply artificial/creation of the colonizer. I highly recommend it to folks who interact with the topics of migration, regional politics, S/SE Asia, and religion. Excited to read Unruly Waters next, another book by Amrith, but will likely wait until I can find a reading group.
The book was, by no means, an easy read. It is incredibly fascinating and gives you many moments where you sit back and go, "damn, that makes A LOT of sense" but it is also super dense. I love reading historical narratives that allow me to both broaden my knowledge and place my identity in this hyper-globalized world, but this was definitely one of those books that I would have preferred to read for a class and discuss with peers.
Either way, it is fascinating in that it gives you the history of a (or two, if classified per modern geopolitics) region through a water body. It also allows the reader to place S/SE Asia's present history in a postcolonial context and reaffirms that so many regional differences are simply artificial/creation of the colonizer. I highly recommend it to folks who interact with the topics of migration, regional politics, S/SE Asia, and religion. Excited to read Unruly Waters next, another book by Amrith, but will likely wait until I can find a reading group.
February 19, 2018
I was frustrated and disappointed with this book. It reminded me of how academicians hardly make any attempt to communicate to a lay reader. I have a horrible sense of geography and the least I would expect in a book that focuses on regions, migration routes and coastal lines is a legible map but there wasn’t any. It was especially annoying because the author keeps referring to places randomly - like what and where is Sandoway or the Mergui archipelago?! Also it didn’t seem like the author had any plan about what to say - all the book was was an grandiose elaboration of the colourful and somewhat violent life in the Bay of Bengal. It makes no sense to me why such work should receive McArthur recognition. This book is definitely worth skipping.
November 30, 2018
As a young migrant South Asian in Singapore struggling with questions of belonging and citizenship, few books have moved me more.
October 24, 2025
Amrith argues that the Bay of Bengal has been a pivotal historical location for migrations, cultural exchange, economic interaction, and the exercise of power. These interactions have shaped the identities found across India and Southeast Asia to the present day. Furthermore, Amrith argues that understanding the impacts and forces that have shaped the Bay of Bengal will help us comprehend contemporary socio-political dynamics as well as the current-day environmental challenges affecting the region.
Amrith centers the Bay of Bengal in his new history of South Asia. Addressing the lack of focus in contemporary historical memories, Amrith directly confronts this scholarly neglect by situating it firmly in the history of migration, colonialism, and environmentalism, and illustrating why understanding this region is essential for our current-day global problems. Furthermore, Amrith combines environmental and climatic studies of the area in the tradition of popular environmental histories, addressing the role that physical geography and rainfall have played in the region. These reflections position this region as a crucial intersection of culture and climate.
Amrith starts with a reflection on the region as being in a state of change and flux. The Bay of Bengal, an area of great importance to local populations, empires, and migrations, gained increased significance in the global capitalist economic sphere with the rise of European colonialism, particularly under the British Empire. Amrith, using two personal narratives of people living in the area at the beginning and end of the Bay's global economic importance (18th century to the early 20th century), shows that the Bay underwent a drastic change in use, from a busy port area that connected many people, to a depressed outward region of migration to rubber plantations abroad.
Amrith situates the region as one defined by its geography and climate, with a study on the vital monsoon rains. This focus makes the work a significant contribution to the numerous environmental histories that have gained popularity in recent years. The monsoon rains, being constant and predictable, enabled sailors to establish stable networks of trade. The heavy rains also allowed for large population sizes. During the Medieval Warm Period, rainfall increased, bringing with it larger empires that ultimately collapsed during the Little Ice Age. Rain has become a significant part of life in these areas, which is a growing concern in modern times. Global climate change, the author argues, has made monsoon rains more unpredictable and sometimes shorter, bringing with it an uncertain future. Thus, the Bay of Bengal serves as a crucial case study in global climate research.
Amrith situates the Bay of Bengal within the crossroads of empires, cultures, and migrations. The bay connected regions from the Islamic caliphates in the Arabian Sea through the Straits of Malacca to the dynasties of China. This region was global before the concept of international trade. People throughout these regions moved and migrated to other areas. Evidence of these diaspora communities came in the form of temples and architecture. The worship of the Muslim Saint Shahul Hamid among diverse cultural and ethnic populations in Southeast Asia demonstrated the interconnectedness, as well as challenged the common "natural enemy" trope between Hindu and Islamic faiths. Human trafficking and slavery also had a regional influence, which impacted the spread of people throughout the region.
Amrith, importantly, grounds the study of the Bay of Bengal in contemporary geopolitics. With the Rise of India and China as economic powers, coupled with the United States' quest for global hegemony, the region has once again grown in importance. The rise of nationalism, a European import influenced by changes in migrant populations, has had a permanent impact on the area. The Bay has always been a place of change, both culturally, politically, and environmentally, and the current-day struggles between peoples and states exemplify this reality.
Amrith centers the Bay of Bengal in his new history of South Asia. Addressing the lack of focus in contemporary historical memories, Amrith directly confronts this scholarly neglect by situating it firmly in the history of migration, colonialism, and environmentalism, and illustrating why understanding this region is essential for our current-day global problems. Furthermore, Amrith combines environmental and climatic studies of the area in the tradition of popular environmental histories, addressing the role that physical geography and rainfall have played in the region. These reflections position this region as a crucial intersection of culture and climate.
Amrith starts with a reflection on the region as being in a state of change and flux. The Bay of Bengal, an area of great importance to local populations, empires, and migrations, gained increased significance in the global capitalist economic sphere with the rise of European colonialism, particularly under the British Empire. Amrith, using two personal narratives of people living in the area at the beginning and end of the Bay's global economic importance (18th century to the early 20th century), shows that the Bay underwent a drastic change in use, from a busy port area that connected many people, to a depressed outward region of migration to rubber plantations abroad.
Amrith situates the region as one defined by its geography and climate, with a study on the vital monsoon rains. This focus makes the work a significant contribution to the numerous environmental histories that have gained popularity in recent years. The monsoon rains, being constant and predictable, enabled sailors to establish stable networks of trade. The heavy rains also allowed for large population sizes. During the Medieval Warm Period, rainfall increased, bringing with it larger empires that ultimately collapsed during the Little Ice Age. Rain has become a significant part of life in these areas, which is a growing concern in modern times. Global climate change, the author argues, has made monsoon rains more unpredictable and sometimes shorter, bringing with it an uncertain future. Thus, the Bay of Bengal serves as a crucial case study in global climate research.
Amrith situates the Bay of Bengal within the crossroads of empires, cultures, and migrations. The bay connected regions from the Islamic caliphates in the Arabian Sea through the Straits of Malacca to the dynasties of China. This region was global before the concept of international trade. People throughout these regions moved and migrated to other areas. Evidence of these diaspora communities came in the form of temples and architecture. The worship of the Muslim Saint Shahul Hamid among diverse cultural and ethnic populations in Southeast Asia demonstrated the interconnectedness, as well as challenged the common "natural enemy" trope between Hindu and Islamic faiths. Human trafficking and slavery also had a regional influence, which impacted the spread of people throughout the region.
Amrith, importantly, grounds the study of the Bay of Bengal in contemporary geopolitics. With the Rise of India and China as economic powers, coupled with the United States' quest for global hegemony, the region has once again grown in importance. The rise of nationalism, a European import influenced by changes in migrant populations, has had a permanent impact on the area. The Bay has always been a place of change, both culturally, politically, and environmentally, and the current-day struggles between peoples and states exemplify this reality.
February 10, 2022
Amrith constructs a gorgeous impression of the shores and history of the Bay of Bengal, roughly along a chronological path. Fascinating for its rich histories, he leaves the reader with a thorough insight in the complex markup of the region, his story meandering from topic to topic, from location to location, from personal history to personal history.
Except for the Bay itself, Amrith’s history doesn’t really have a central focus, or theme, meaning that the book is really a, well told, whirlwind of over 500 years of history, spanning all countries along the shores of the Bay of Bengal, though perhaps with a somewhat stronger focus on Tamil migrations along its shores.
Though, a broad range of influences get a mention, including Yemenite traders, and Mozambican slaves that the Brits at some point imported to Indonesia.
A few interesting remarks from throughout the book:
+ The rise and decline of the Bay of Bengal as a region parallels the rise and collapse of British imperialism in Asia.
+ Bangladesh *is* the Himalayas, flattened out.
+ The [Dutch] saw themselves as different from the swashbuckling Portuguese: more ordered, more rational, more enlightened. But [these] European powers had much in common; they came for Asia’s wealth in spices and textiles, they shared their dependence on inter-Asian trade, they struggled to balance their public and private interests. But, the Dutch brand of capitalism was the stronger, and more successful one. If, eventually, the Brits prevailed.
And, the English were the most effective of all at combining moralism and self-interest.
+ A throwaway remark that warrants investigation: “everywhere [Muharram] was a major public celebration, and that seemed to upend the prevailing social order”. Was this celebrated as a kind of carnival?
+ The author claims that modern laws around migration, legal and illegal, were given shape at the start of the 20th century, in cases involving forced, and unforced, migration in and around the Bay of Bengal.
+ Part of One chapter is dedicated to the cosmopolitanism of Burma at the start of the 20th century. Exemplary for how tides can turn.
Near the end, Amrith argues that nationalism in and around the Bay, in the 1930s and 1940s, dovetailed with the invasion of Japan, and several successive waves of independence, with the drying up of the historical cycles of migrations around the bay, as a consequence, diminishing trade and travel.
This was followed by decades of reverse migrations, where a number of countries strove for stronger ethnic unity, at the cost of denying long-term, not first-generation, migrants citizenship, or even requiring them to return to their countries of ‘origin’.
Except for the Bay itself, Amrith’s history doesn’t really have a central focus, or theme, meaning that the book is really a, well told, whirlwind of over 500 years of history, spanning all countries along the shores of the Bay of Bengal, though perhaps with a somewhat stronger focus on Tamil migrations along its shores.
Though, a broad range of influences get a mention, including Yemenite traders, and Mozambican slaves that the Brits at some point imported to Indonesia.
A few interesting remarks from throughout the book:
+ The rise and decline of the Bay of Bengal as a region parallels the rise and collapse of British imperialism in Asia.
+ Bangladesh *is* the Himalayas, flattened out.
+ The [Dutch] saw themselves as different from the swashbuckling Portuguese: more ordered, more rational, more enlightened. But [these] European powers had much in common; they came for Asia’s wealth in spices and textiles, they shared their dependence on inter-Asian trade, they struggled to balance their public and private interests. But, the Dutch brand of capitalism was the stronger, and more successful one. If, eventually, the Brits prevailed.
And, the English were the most effective of all at combining moralism and self-interest.
+ A throwaway remark that warrants investigation: “everywhere [Muharram] was a major public celebration, and that seemed to upend the prevailing social order”. Was this celebrated as a kind of carnival?
+ The author claims that modern laws around migration, legal and illegal, were given shape at the start of the 20th century, in cases involving forced, and unforced, migration in and around the Bay of Bengal.
+ Part of One chapter is dedicated to the cosmopolitanism of Burma at the start of the 20th century. Exemplary for how tides can turn.
Near the end, Amrith argues that nationalism in and around the Bay, in the 1930s and 1940s, dovetailed with the invasion of Japan, and several successive waves of independence, with the drying up of the historical cycles of migrations around the bay, as a consequence, diminishing trade and travel.
This was followed by decades of reverse migrations, where a number of countries strove for stronger ethnic unity, at the cost of denying long-term, not first-generation, migrants citizenship, or even requiring them to return to their countries of ‘origin’.
May 24, 2018
I am surprised by the low rating of this book, which is a key to untangling the whole mess (which created after WWII when independent movement swept the third world) of this region. If you are interested in the history of post-colonial independent movement, this book further discusses those pains it entailed from the joy of it.
Probably one need some basic understanding/interest of this region to dive deep into the book. If you are looking for story, I would recommend pick up some of Amitav Ghosh’s novel to start (most relevant to topics discussed in this book is Glass Palace).
Probably one need some basic understanding/interest of this region to dive deep into the book. If you are looking for story, I would recommend pick up some of Amitav Ghosh’s novel to start (most relevant to topics discussed in this book is Glass Palace).
April 26, 2023
Extremely useful to understand the connections- economic, anthropological and social, among the littoral nations of Bay of Bengal (and China). The book can be a good indication to policy makers about the future of strategic competition in the Bay of Bengal, and the upcoming challenges in the form of internal ecological migration, fossil based economic exploitation and global warming. It's a must read for humanities students, especially students of Asian Studies.
July 22, 2020
Excellent introduction to the complex history of the Bay of Bengal - engaging, well-written, and deeply researched. However, I did want more environmental history throughout, which Amrith seemed to promise early on.
October 4, 2022
Braudel-style history of the Indian Ocean "Mediterranean" across several centuries.
March 10, 2021
Sunil Amrith’s Crossing the Bay of Bengal is a history of South/South-East Asia that moves beyond the rigid framework of nation-states that we are so used to. The author accomplishes this by shifting focus from nation-states to the story of the Bay of Bengal and the cities that lie along this body of water.
Amrith brought his method to life for me when he briefly discussed the “sacred imagination” evoked by the Bay of Bengal for those who made their livelihood on it, such as the story of Ramayana which uses the Bay as a mystical setting, as well as being the subject for ancient Indian storytellers, for whom the sea "promised risk, temptation, and untold riches at the end of the crossing” (23). This allowed me to get a much better sense for the Bay of Bengal as I was able to compare these stories with those about the Mediterranean Sea in the Ancient Greek world, and how that sea similarly inspired magical tales of Sirens, Cyclops, and man-eating whirlpools. Since the epic tales of a civilization often have an implicit emphasis on those things most important to a society, economically or otherwise, this reference to the tales of the Bay of Bengal shows how important this body of water was for those who lived around it, as well as giving a sense for the religious awe inspired by the simultaneously life-giving and destructive power of the monsoon.
Through this lens, the section in Amrith’s book about how the sea has become “the forgotten space” was especially tragic. It is true that the sea has faded from the collective unconscious, probably because of a change in our material realities. Rather than being a mysterious realm that sparks the imagination, we've been encouraged to view it as a resource to be exploited, viewing “even the fish in the sea [as] forms of national wealth” (246). Amrith brings to our attention that this is quite a new way of thinking, only being first “enshrined in the Continental Shelf Convention…in 1964: a new need was felt to divide the seabed and also the waters above it, into bordered national territories, numbered blocks…or maritime zones” (246-7).
It is helpful to be reminded of the fact that this way of thinking about the sea is not natural or inevitable, but determined only by recent history. This sense of ownership of the natural world by nation-states also extends to human beings, as the section on immigration and citizenship makes clear. If only to remind us that “political possibilities other than a world of nation-states” exists, it is highly instructive to see the massive amount of confusion and disenfranchisement that occurred in Southeast Asia at the dawn of this new world order, which imposed the requirement of only belonging to one nation on a population that was used to moving freely between harbors on the Bay (243). This was devastating in many places, such as in Sri Lanka, where new legislation “denied citizenship to…approximately 12 percent of the population”, as well as in India, where a formalizing of national borders brought forth the horrors of Partition (226).
Amrith brought his method to life for me when he briefly discussed the “sacred imagination” evoked by the Bay of Bengal for those who made their livelihood on it, such as the story of Ramayana which uses the Bay as a mystical setting, as well as being the subject for ancient Indian storytellers, for whom the sea "promised risk, temptation, and untold riches at the end of the crossing” (23). This allowed me to get a much better sense for the Bay of Bengal as I was able to compare these stories with those about the Mediterranean Sea in the Ancient Greek world, and how that sea similarly inspired magical tales of Sirens, Cyclops, and man-eating whirlpools. Since the epic tales of a civilization often have an implicit emphasis on those things most important to a society, economically or otherwise, this reference to the tales of the Bay of Bengal shows how important this body of water was for those who lived around it, as well as giving a sense for the religious awe inspired by the simultaneously life-giving and destructive power of the monsoon.
Through this lens, the section in Amrith’s book about how the sea has become “the forgotten space” was especially tragic. It is true that the sea has faded from the collective unconscious, probably because of a change in our material realities. Rather than being a mysterious realm that sparks the imagination, we've been encouraged to view it as a resource to be exploited, viewing “even the fish in the sea [as] forms of national wealth” (246). Amrith brings to our attention that this is quite a new way of thinking, only being first “enshrined in the Continental Shelf Convention…in 1964: a new need was felt to divide the seabed and also the waters above it, into bordered national territories, numbered blocks…or maritime zones” (246-7).
It is helpful to be reminded of the fact that this way of thinking about the sea is not natural or inevitable, but determined only by recent history. This sense of ownership of the natural world by nation-states also extends to human beings, as the section on immigration and citizenship makes clear. If only to remind us that “political possibilities other than a world of nation-states” exists, it is highly instructive to see the massive amount of confusion and disenfranchisement that occurred in Southeast Asia at the dawn of this new world order, which imposed the requirement of only belonging to one nation on a population that was used to moving freely between harbors on the Bay (243). This was devastating in many places, such as in Sri Lanka, where new legislation “denied citizenship to…approximately 12 percent of the population”, as well as in India, where a formalizing of national borders brought forth the horrors of Partition (226).
September 1, 2020
Sunil Amrith's Crossing the Bay of Bengal puts the "Bay" at the centre of the Asian migration. With the Andman Nicobar Island at the cente of the World map, understading Indian migration to Burma, Sri Lanka, Malaysia becomes more comprehensible. The story of migration, of Tamil Chettiyar from the South to the Bengalis from the East, invokes the poignancy of the closing borders after decolonization. Amrith while recounts the rise of nationalism for the Kalas, as Indians were called in Burma, that met with Rajendra Prasad's advice for Indians to stay put. A mass exodus saw Indians returning on foot through India's North East. One such migrant was Helen, a Franco-Burmese who first reached Calcutta and eventually made it to the Bollywood. Some Indians walked all the way to Andhra. Sunil Amrith is to history what Amitabh Ghosh is to literature.
December 31, 2016
A compelling history of environmental forces and human migrations critical to understanding today’s Indo-Asia-Pacific region. Harvard professor Sunil Amrith’s interdisciplinary study is anchored in the Bay of Bengal’s historical role as a maritime highway between India and China. Amrith’s research follows the flows of people and goods across centuries and across borders to tell the story of an intricate way of life that established itself, layer after layer, migratory wave after wave, across a region too often ignored in Western strategic thinking.
October 31, 2014
Ultimately too philosophical for undergrads, this is a work I enjoyed for its meta-history, but which ultimately felt too thinly researched to be a decisive new take on ocean based history - particularly his ecological arguments which are wispy at best. Recommended for personal reading pleasure, not for the classroom.
Want to read
September 4, 2016recommended by David Armitage
April 21, 2014
The writing style is so circular and repetitive that it makes gleaning information difficult.
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