White Mughals

William Dalrymple is one of Britain's greatest travel writers; his descriptions of his journeys in Central Asia, India and the Middle East are unsurpassed for their grasp of telling details and sensitivity to place and history. Now, in his first work of straight history, he has brought back to life the remarkable story of the English Resident in Hyderabad in the late 18th century who fell in love with, and married, a high-born Muslim girl, and held fast to her despite the condemnation of the ruling East India Company. But, interesting though the story of James Achilles Kirkpatrick and Khair un-Nissa is, the core of the book is the wider subject of Anglo-Indian relationships at the time. Dalrymple demonstrates how early contact between East and West was informal and open-minded - there are numerous portraits of 18th-century Englishmen dressed in Mughal garb, and Western scholars were enthralled by the subcontinent's rich literary and religious traditions. But as the East India Company tightened its hold and turned its energies to subduing and ruling rather than trading, the divisions between English and Indian deepened, and senior Company officials began to dismiss native beliefs as foolish superstition and disapprove of inter-racial mixing. Dalrymple poignantly quotes contemporary letters by Englishmen with children by Indian women in which they agonize over whether their sons' and daughters' skin is light enough for them to achieve a reasonable position in Anglo-Indian society, or whether they should be sent back to England - which, ironically, was less prejudiced. This book suffers from the usual faults of a first work of history. Dalrymple is determined to include as much of his prodigious research as possible, and the result is a profusion of fascinating but irrelevant snippets of information that at times seriously distract from the main narrative. The range of characters is enormous, and it's easy for the reader not as comfortable in the period as Dalrymple to forget that Abdul Lateef and Shushtari are the same person, or why exactly Khair un-Nissa's female relations were so much keener on her liaison with Kirkpatrick than her male relations. But these are only minor points. This is a fascinating book that sheds a fresh light on a period that tends to get forgotten in comparison with the stereotypical picture of the Raj, and demonstrates how easy it is for what may seem to be polar opposites (East/West, Muslim/Christian, ruler/subject) to merge into new and flexible identities. More than anything, this is a plea for the racial, religious and cultural tolerance that is needed as much now as it ever has been. (Kirkus UK)