I had suggested that there was an inchoate sense of patriotism that informed the 1857 rebellion. But that should not be mistaken for modern nationalism. I still believe that what one saw in 1857 was a series of patriotic rebellions. I would not necessarily say that it had a pan-Indian consciousness; they were regional patriotisms organised under the figurehead of the fading Mughal emperor. There were other strands as well. For example, there were peasant rebellions in a number of regions. There were even localised calls for jihad in certain towns. What happened was that quite a large number of Indians in northern and central India had come to regard the East India Company state as illegitimate. They thought, in fact, the 18th-century state system, with a number of regional rulers with the Mughal emperor providing a symbolic center, at least more legitimate.

• Did it have a modernising effect?

I wouldn’t draw a very neat line of continuity between 1857 and the kind of modern nationalism that we saw, particularly among educated elites from the 1880s onward. Because, after all, in some ways 1857 was organised under the leadership of kings and nobles. There was a dimension of popular uprising as well. But it was the last gasp of these princes. Later on, of course, the British tried to utilise the princes as bulwarks. There are elements of continuity in the sense that 1857 provided inspiration for later anticolonial movements, even in the 20th century. Just think of the Indian National Army. Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose came to Rangoon to pay homage at the grave of Bahadurshah Zafar in 1943 before the march to Delhi was launched.

• In your new book, A Hundred Horizons: The Indian Ocean in the Age of Global Empire, you highlight an interplay between nationalism and universalism.

I was concerned in this book to suggest that there were both territorial and extraterritorial dimensions to Indian nationalism and the forging of an Indian identity. I felt that in some of the recent historical literature territorial nationalism had been over-emphasised. At the end of the day, on August 15, 1947, we ended up with a territorially defined nation state. Some of the structures of that state were borrowed from the colonial state. And yet I found that there were fairly strong internationalist dimensions to nationalism, or what I’ve also described as an interplay of nationalism and universalism. This universalism may have taken many forms. For example, think of 1905, the Swadeshi movement. You could see it as regional patriotism in Bengal contributing to a larger Indian nationalism. But you could also see it affiliated with a broader Asian universalism.

All that changed closer to 1947. In the chapter where I talk about expatriate patriots I look into, you know what the Indian communities in South Africa were doing while Mahatma Gandhi was there. And what the Indian communities in Southeast Asia were doing during those crucial two years while Subhas Chandra Bose was there between 1943 and 1945.

• And Tagore?

I was especially interested in talking about different universalisms because there is a sense, particularly in the West, that in the modern period of world history Europe could claim some kind of a monopoly on universalism. That, I have tried to argue, is a false claim. I was concerned to show that there were many Indians who wanted to contribute to the shaping of a global future. Many historians, even those I admire within the subaltern school, had rather overstressed Indian claims to cultural difference. You know, Europe was trying to invade our world, and so in some kind of an inner spiritual domain we protected our own culture. I felt Indians were not as defensive, that they felt they had something to contribute to the outside world.

Tagore is a wonderful exemplar of that because he believed in a kind of cosmopolitanism which did not want to erase differences. By the way, Tagore is not alone and this is not some kind of a Bengali exceptionalism. Think of a very major Indian nationalist of the turn of the 20th century like Lala Lajpat Rai. He had a strong internationalist dimension. I am writing a history of ideas right now. Lala Lajpat Rai spent a good number of years in the US, and probably the most important book on the US was written by him in the second decade of the 20th century (The United States of America). He has some very insightful views on how we compare race in the US with caste in India. He befriended W.E.B. DuBois.

• But while you were at work on the book, the Tsunami struck. That must have come as a shock. It was a very violently tragic affirmation of the case you were making about the Indian Ocean rim.

It was hopefully tragic and I wish that had not happened. But what it brought home in rather a tragic fashion was that this is a world that is connected. You have an earthquake in Indonesia and the waves reach Thailand and other Southeast Asian countries in under two hours, in about three hours the waves reach India and Sri Lanka, and in about five hours they are pounding the coast of East Africa. What happened also at that time was that working together for relief of affected people brought together the peoples of the Indian Ocean world. There was a tragedy, but there was also a expression of a common humanity. But what I also suggested by using that oceanic metaphor was that there are both things, global and inter-regional, that take place together. And there are many other processes that are taking place today, and it’s just not in the world of nature. In the world of politics, economy, and so on.