Jack Weatherford is a US anthropologist by training and has made something of a career writing revisionist ethno-history – his Indian Givers: How the Indians of the Americas transformed the world was published back in 1988 and was a well-received account of what is known as the Columbian exchange – Europe got silver, potatoes and syphilis – America got Jesus and small pox – and in that case the subtitle was well justified.

Emperor of the Seas picks up more or less where Weatherford’s 2004 Genghis Khan and the Making of the Modern World finished, with the Mongol Empire poised to invade Southern China of the Song dynasty. For those of you who are not familiar with the incredible story of Genghis Khan (born Temujin) – who rose from desperate poverty as the son of a murdered father to visionary leader, do yourself a favour. Sergei Bodrov’s 2007 movie Mongol is pretty good on Temujin’s early life but the real history is far more amazing. By 1227 Genghis and his sons led Mongol cavalry armies as far as Poland, Hungary and Egypt, conquering pretty much everything in between Mongolia and Poland and establishing a tolerant trade-oriented world empire.

In Emperor of the Seas, we get a detailed account of Kublai’s successful conquest of Southern China – at that time the wealthiest and most populace country on the planet – and his subsequent failed invasions of Japan, Vietnam and Java.

Kublai was Genghis Khan’s grandson and became leader of effectively the northern Chinese part of the Mongol empire in 1260 CE. Kublai’s mother was a Nestorian Christian and he was at home in both Mongol and Chinese cultures but was also genuinely curious about the Islamic and Christian West. Foreigners of all types could rise high in his service. Hence, in due course, Marco Polo. Weatherford is a big fan of the Mongol Empire and does well to remind us of many aspects of its striking modernity – it’s religious tolerance, its promotion of international trade and technological development (including an enthusiastic embrace of naval power and maritime trade), its sparing use of capital punishment and torture in its civilian jurisdictions.

What cannot be avoided however is that, Weatherford’s subtitle notwithstanding, the maritime legacy of the Yuan dynasty was short lived. In 1294 CE Kublai died at 78 years of age (pretty good going given his diet of meat, milk and alcohol) and was succeeded by his grandson Temur who promptly abandoned further expansion. For a while trade with SE Asia and the Middle East flourished and Marco Polo was succeeded by a number of European and Arab envoys and missionaries. Ibn Battuta made it to Southern China as late as 1365. There was a brief revival of naval ambition under the early Ming – the treasure fleets of Heng Ze in the early 15th century sailed as far as the east coast of Africa – but it was not sustained.

The last treasure fleet left India in 1433. When a British expedition under Lord Macartney arrived in China in 1798 seeking to open trade relations, they were told they were wasting their time. Macartney wrote a report saying, basically, these guys are ripe for the taking. The reasons for the Chinese abandoning the international aspirations of the Yuan are one of the great open questions of world history – Emperor of the Seas will leave you wondering what the answer is.

Reviewed by Grant Hansen

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