Decadent jewels

One of the great delights of visiting London is the number of excellent exhibitions in the city’s many museums and galleries. Last week, I went to see the current show at the Victoria and Albert museum that has been billed as a major display of India’s past. Called “Maharaja: The Splendour of India’s Royal Courts”, the exhibition leads viewers through a magnificent array of relics and heirlooms from various Indian courts.
The exhibition starts with the early 18th century, the period of Mughal decline. This era was the beginning of the end of the great dynasty established by Babar in 1526. Challenged by rising regional powers, the empire dwindled rapidly, and the hollowness of its claim to rule India was exposed when the Iranian monarch Nadir Shah sacked Delhi in 1739.
In this period of shifting power, many old kingdoms surfaced, and regional governors appointed by the Mughal emperor declared virtual autonomy. These self-declared nawabs and rajas acquired all the pomp of independent rulers. They were encouraged by the East India Company, the rising power in India. Seeking to erode the power of the Mughals, the British granted this new ruling elite legitimacy, while posting political agents to their courts to ensure that they would further the Company’s interests.
Wielding little power excepting the authority to squeeze their subjects, these princes and potentates used their wealth to lead decadent lives. Aping the British, many of them tried to adopt the lifestyle of their overlords, provoking snide comments and barely-concealed contempt from the officials appointed by the East India Company. Simultaneously, those who resisted the British encroachment were crushed, and their properties distributed to sycophants willing to toe the line. This policy was continued later in the area now known as Pakistan. The British Crown, having replaced the East India Company, elevated many families willing to cooperate with the government in maintaining law and order. These families form the so-called aristocracy in India and Pakistan, and were crucial to the British in putting down the mutiny.
This master-slave relationship is revealed in many of the artworks on display at the V&A exhibition. In one painting, a British officer in uniform, hat rakishly and insultingly in place, lounges at the dinner table while a prince in full regalia stares pointedly ahead. Various members of the princely retinue are decked up in Western attire. By the 19th century, this system of pomp and patronage was well-established. Princes rode elephants in ceremonial processions, clad in regal kit.
Later in the Raj period, the hedonism of the Indian princes reaches new levels of decadence. Magnificent necklaces in diamonds and emeralds are commissioned with Van Cleef and Arpel’s. Photographs of some of these symbolic rulers in immaculate Western dinner jackets, with their wives in stunning dresses, show them at their worst.
Later, I concluded that my anger was caused by the sycophancy and lack of resistance to British rule evident in the exhibition. Above all, it was the contrast between the opulence of the rulers and the poverty of their subjects that made my blood boil. But when I calmed down, I thought of the beauty of so many objects on display: despite their uselessness and decadence, these nawabs had left behind some wonderful buildings and works of art. Pyramids, mosques, churches and palaces were all built to impress the masses with the pomp and power of the ruling elites. While those who carried the stone blocks and erected these monuments may have been slaves and poorly paid workers, the ones who erected these opulent structures had no qualms about extracting taxes to pay for their follies.
From the Taj Mahal to Louis XIV’s palace at Versailles, it has been an unending story of exploitation and egomania. Nevertheless, the question to ask is whether we are better off for these magnificent buildings or not. Had they not been built, those who suffered during their construction might not have been as heavily taxed. But mankind would have been poorer without the amazing buildings that our forefathers have left behind. Ultimately, it is surplus labour and taxes that pay for most things of lasting value. If the state were to redistribute all revenues equally, there would be no surplus to foot the cost of research, or indeed, the social and physical infrastructure. Creating and commissioning buildings and works of art for posterity are pastimes of the rich and the idle. These aristocrats created a huge stir when they visited Europe, spending vast amounts on their hotels, cars and retinues. One of the objects on display at the V&A was a Rolls-Royce Roadster, one of a fleet ordered to special specifications by a prince. Although I enjoyed the exhibition as a visual treat, I still have mixed feelings about it. It’s almost as though these long-dead princes continue to amuse the descendants of their masters long after their departure from the scene.

By arrangement with Dawn