When the Cholas went to China…
Editor’s note: This is an excerpt from our fave historian Anirudh Kanisetti’s new book, ‘Lords of Earth and Sea’. It tells the story of Chola Samudran or Rajaraja Chola’s merchant-ambassador’s fateful journey to China—his meeting with the emperor of China, Song Zhenzong, and a historic exchange of cultures and riches that followed. This excerpt has been published with permission from Juggernaut Books.
Nostrils flaring in the cold September air, Rajaraja Chola’s ambassador, bearing the title Chola-Samudran or ‘Sea–Chola’, breathed deep. The scents of Kaifeng, alien capital of an alien country: China. In a few hours he would be presented to the most powerful man in eastern Asia. In the air, a whiff of beef and pork broth, from night markets that never slept. Freezing mud, and the excreta of nearly a million people and animals. He had never smelled anything like it, never seen a city so vast and teeming.
It had been three years since he left Cholamandalam, having received a title from Emperor Rajaraja. In 1012, at Nagapattinam port, Samudran and fifty-one others – senior traders, court officials – had boarded ships owned by members of the Five Hundred and Jewel-Village merchant corporations. They were part of the annual trading fleet destined for the eastern countries, laden with treasures and sojourners.
The trading fleet moved through the Malay peninsula and the island of Sumatra, pausing weeks, sometimes months, at port. Samudran waited for the right winds, and traded some of his cargo. He was merchant first, diplomat second: The ‘Chola’ embassy was his business as much as the court’s. The tiny Tamil merchant diaspora, scattered across ports, included his friends, partners and relations. They came to visit him, calling him by many other names. ‘Chola-Samudran’ was merely a title granted by Rajaraja, a king they had never met.
Yet the king’s reputation had already crossed the seas. For Rajaraja Chola had consolidated their homelands and claimed to be king of all Tamils. He had spent piles of loot on precious goods, much of which these merchants had sourced for him. And now senior merchants were his representatives in foreign lands. The interests of the Five Hundred, evidently, were the interests of the Cholas.
And so in the court of Kaifeng, after nearly three years of voyaging, Samudran’s mind must have been heavy with ideas. On a low dais, resplendent in red silk, sat Song Zhenzong, emperor of China. Upon his head a black hat, soft felt shoes on his feet. Strange, to the merchant- ambassador’s eyes, that a monarch should cover his body, even in such precious material; that his head not be adorned by a gleaming crown; that his feet not be washed and revered by his crowned vassals.
In the thick, aloeswood-scented silence of the court, Samudran approached the dais, bowing again and again, raising a platter filled with pearls and green gems. He and Zhenzong faced each other that day in September 1015. Could either have known what an exhilarating moment this was in global history? Two proud and sophisticated Asian cultures, that had evolved side by side for centuries, returned in that moment to electrifying contact. Now they would dance together as they had before.
Samudran scattered the pearls at Zhenzong’s feet, descended backwards, bowed again. Then he declaimed, in polished Tamil infused with Sanskrit, as the water of an ablution was scented with flowers. He read aloud the letter that Emperor Rajaraja had given him, while Chinese scribes and translators scribbled. As ambassador, he presented Rajaraja’s gifts: 844 kilograms of pearls; 60 elephant tusks; 38 kilograms of frankincense, a robe and cap embroidered with pearls. Then, as merchant, he offered an additional gift of 264 kilograms of pearls and more than 2 tonnes of perfumes. He shared with the emperor the story of their travels and the many lands they had seen. Cool eyes watched with elegantly concealed interest.
Then Zhenzong spoke; his long whiskers and pointed beard danced as he conveyed orders to his officials. Honours and gifts for Samudran and Emperor Rajaraja. Over the next year the merchant-ambassador was invited to many receptions and ceremonies, and made new networks of allies and rivals. During this time, it seems that Samudran developed a hostility for another delegation at court: the merchants of Kadaram (Kedah, present-day Malaysia).
Two weeks’ sailing from the Tamil coast, it was where the annual trading fleet traded and restocked before entering the rich archipelago of Southeast Asia. Kedah merchants were cornering the trade in camphor and exotic woods, keeping the Five Hundred at bay. They’d leveraged their connections at the Chinese court to obtain preferential prices and customs rates. Samudran must have heard rumblings of this on his journey, but it was only in Kaifeng that his suspicions could have been confirmed. Something must be done. Perhaps the Chola emperors would do it.
But Samudran would never be able to act on these ideas. That would fall upon the rest of his embassy, for the merchant-ambassador died of an illness while still in China. Emperor Zhenzong had him buried rather than cremated, honouring him in a manner appropriate to a Chinese official, and had libations offered at his grave. His colleagues, with an imperial edict and rich gifts for the Chola court, took ship again.
As the Tamil merchant-ambassador lay in his quiet tomb in an alien land, the world continued on its bustling way. The indifferent stars continued to shine above.
