From obscurity to opulence

If this two-in-one catalog is anything to go by, the past Parsi presence in western India from the 16th century onwards must have been very weighty indeed. Under the Portuguese who had Christianity in mind — with missionaries at the ready; the Dutch who stolidly pursued a well-managed one-way trade; and lastly the British who were unsparingly colonial, the resolute Parsi with his "can do, will do, (and did do!)” emerged feistily victorious. Kul jahan sathé dosti (with friendship towards all) went the lyric; and further sustained by the Zoroastrian spanta, "advancement” principle, the Parsi has famously succeeded all along.
The Parsi secret of consistent success was in keeping determinedly out-caste’d such that travel, trade, and transfiguration presented no setbacks which pseudo-religious constraints imposed upon Indian majorities. Pent-up energies stored over centuries of self-imposed localism were to be released, firstly under the great Mughals, and then unleashed with purposeful determination across several seas and various fronts, chief among which was trade.

That settled, one proceeds to delve into this vast 9”x11” compendium. Its first part, Across Oceans... is organized across a short Introduction by the assiduous Pheroza Godrej and Firoza Punthakey-Mistree duo, then an episodic preface by Homi K. Bhabha (Harvard) the general rightness of whose summation via Parsi self-containment markers is partially respected in this review.
Passing over his "conversion” views with their futile conflicts between Zoroastrian prescription and Parsi proscription, one is led on to Bhabha’s "soft power” usage to account for Parsi emergence in the cosmopolitan settings of the India-China trade: it was "in terms of piecemeal reform rather than social revolution.” One would rather have suspected Parsi entrepreneurial opportunism through acquiescence and condescension towards British colonial demands. It transcended "soft power” wherever it was exercised — Bhabha has employed this metaphorical compound some half dozen times to ease his sentimental approach to Parsi ascendancy from obscurity to opulence: he dishes up quite a khichri sahs!
Quite where his "conversion” thesis fits in — "a non-proselytizing faith,” says he (!) — is unclear: converts do not seek to become Parsis, but Zoroastrian through realization of their deeply held inner convictions. Like it or not, Zoroastrianism as a pragmatic system born of a uniquely humanist philosophy is universally aligned.

The above items are succeeded by essays outlining Parsi pre-eminence in trade (and taste!) from reliable authorities on economic and cultural histories, before being catapulted into the main exhibition catalog. The pertinently selected illustrations, mainly in full color, are sparklingly reproduced in eye-captivatingly large format, sometimes over double page spreads: their informatively attached captions nicely complement the texts.
References and bibliographies are rich sources for further explorations, and those in this catalog are no exception — barring two classic monographs which would have added zest and balanced out the occasionally bland argumentation. These absentees are Charles Boxer’s Seaborne Empire studies of the Portuguese and the Dutch: they are never too passé for extended researches elsewhere.
Ghulam Nadri’s opener deals succinctly with the 18th century Surat Parsis. With the decline of the brief Portuguese presence there, the Dutch occupied the prime trading port facilities for some 150 years before yielding commercial space to emergent British interests. Their grandiose mausolea in the Surat cemetery are massive and depressingly ugly. The respective East India Companies and 1824 Anglo-Dutch Treaty divided up the vast wealth-producing East Asian trading emporia. Proficient in Gujarati and hinterland tongues, the Parsis, with initiative and enterprise to match, became brokers, contractors and provisioners. Their story is neatly summarized by Nadri.
But by what strange quirk has Tirthankar Roy in his otherwise innocuous essay "Embracing the World” arrived at "a pejorative Marxist term” in designating Parsi sheths as compradors? It was but a sound 17th century Portuguese trade appellation for "buyer, purchaser.” This back-projected, revisionist distortion is to be refuted.
An abundance of color pictures throughout the bulk of the catalog was assembled from varied sources, and all are very good indeed. The photographic essay on "Yazd: The Land of Mountains and Pirs” has several items of interest, from Zardushti womens’ cotton and silken wear — shalwar and qamiz, maqnuns and laachaks [read: trousers, blousons, (waist-deep) head scarves, bonnets], to the wearers themselves; early monochromes of the Zardushti great and good, posed solo or with their families; the exteriors of Pirs in the Yazd region.
The inevitable ".... Parsi Arrival” displays Portuguese illustrated maps of Diu, Chaul and Thane. Some captions to the 17th and 18th century engravings — again the inexplicable fascination with the dead and disposed! — fall short somewhat. Early 14th century Christian travelers hold key importance: the Dominican Friar Jordanus (he was Catalan, not "of France”) and the Franciscan Odoric (again, not "of France”) of Pordenone, Friuli (Italy), were missionaries seeking to attract the lower orders and doubtless even the Gujarat Parsis.

Jordanus became the first bishop of all India, and wrote an extensive account of everything of interest in that "foreign land;” Odoric commented on his far travels to East and South Asia, establishing both diplomatic and ecclesiastical missions. Their accounts of the Parsis were taken up by the proselytizing Portuguese of the 15th and 16th centuries. Roman Catholic and Anglican education drives were to be enthusiastically, if privately, embraced by westernized Parsi shethias and their families who, despite blandishments, remained staunchly Zoroastrian.
Early foreign trade was eastwards — to South Asia and on to China. Their departure port was Surat on the Tapti — "The Gateway to China Trade” — until it silted up to an uncommercial degree for deep-draught sea-going trade vessels. From being weavers, artisans and agriculturers, the Surat Parsis rose to becoming brokers, ship-builders and outright ship owners trading on their own account.
Brokers firstly to the Portuguese, and later to the British East India Company, Rustom Maneck and his son Naoroji are resplendently pictured. They had successfully pursued the debt owing them by the British. When Surat became further crippled through natural disasters and Maratha raids, the move southward to the malarial islands that then constituted Bombay (ceded 1662 by the Portuguese) with its deep harbor potential, caused the Parsi migration under British protection to help found the great metropolis which it became through sheer enterprize.
Jesse Palsetia tells their story with balance and zest in his deeply researched article, "Early Commerce and the City of Bombay,” on the making of that amazing financial hub city by the Parsis. Their mercantile prowess was initially exercised as agents of the British East India Company; later, they were to found their own business houses for trade with the Far East where they had established factorial agencies. The variety of occupations too became noteworthy: in the development of dockyards; ships victuallers, stevedores, shipwrights; building contractors and in Parsi religious foundations.
The China trade was conducted mainly from the ports of Bombay and Calcutta. Businesses flourishing from exports of cotton and the insidious opium helped fund several Parsi projects; the recent trend among researchers to exonerate the shethias from large-scale dealings in this addictive, debilitating habit among the Chinese masses is to be stoutly countered by hard facts and not sentiment. The best that can be said of Parsi participation in this vile trade is that the former lack of ethical scruples for rank mercantilism was overcome, and out of this grim evil came forth a morality of benevolence.
The illustrations, with useful captions, that accompany Palsetia’s article well depict the 18th and 19th century Parsi plutocrats. Among them are the patel, "headman of village/s” of Bombay, Cowasjee Rustumjee (Patel), noted for contracting work on sailing vessels, and construction of fire temples and dakhmas. Bombay’s largest landowners included Pestonjee Bomanjee Wadia, responsible with others for the cotton and opium trade — he owned several opium clippers. Kharshedji Fardunji Parekh was another large scale China trader, while Jamsetjee Bomanji Wadia built merchant vessels and naval frigates for the Admiralty. All in all, they were to prove indispensable to the making of Bombay; thenceforth, their philanthropy and charity formed the stuff of legend.
Poetically titled as "To Count the Very Stars of Heaven,” Mariam Dossal’s eulogy concludes with some very big names who shaped Bombay for which she added, "These were individuals who actually touched the skies...” How wonderful! Differently constructed are the short trade-bound essays of Amitav Ghosh and Rusheed Wadia — each meritorious within their Parsi activity timescales.
"The Emergence of Style and Grandeur” by Punthakey-Mistree and Godrej cosily encapsulates the Parsi entrepreneur’s mixed acculturations while resident in the factory zones of the Chinese trade ports. They resulted in grandiose Bombay mansions overstuffed with European furnishings and Far East treasures, enthusiastically amassed, though not always well coordinated.
Several illustrated pages are devoted to decorated porcelain, carved furniture (often quite hideous), ornate glassware, and Chinese artists’ return offerings. Some certainly do warrant specialized study; others are uninteresting by far.
Across Oceans nevertheless remains a compelling work — dare this reviewer hope that it will spur future generations of scholars, Parsi, Irani or whosoever, to freshly investigate (from the post — "Cultural Revolution” Chinese side?) and better appreciate past achievements in the beckoning light of this fine compilation?