FOR LOVE OF GAIN^141
They were persuaded to merge. Like the Confederation: in union,
strength. So was born in 1602 the Vereenigde Oost-indische Com
pagnie (VOC), alias Jan Compagnie.
The Dutch set out to make money by commerce. They found a
world where trade was bound to force. No spice could be bought with
out the benevolence of the local ruler or his agent, who had his own
living to worry about. No buy was sure: local rulers would sell the
same crop twice. The political rivalries of the region were complex and
ephemeral—Muslims vs. infidels, petty chiefs who would be king or
sultan, loyalists vs. rebels, with the one becoming the other and then
back again. And all of this was complicated and exacerbated by the ac
tions of other Europeans. The Portuguese, already installed, were ready
to bribe, lie, steal, even kill to thwart the Dutch. Likewise the Spanish,
coming in through their Philippine back door. And hot on their heels,
the English, too few yet to compete for market or territory, but mak
ing up for numbers with seamanship and gunnery.
Everyone in these Eastern waters was half bandit, including the local
sea jackals who ambushed the small boats and still in our time prey on
defenseless refugees. But the English were the big guns, the pirates' pi
rates. No vessel too big for the taking. Not a bad strategy: if you can't
make money in business, you grab from those who do. And moving
and maneuvering among these were the locals: Gujrati merchants from
India, Arabs from the Red Sea and the Gulf, Malaysians and Indone
sians; above all, the Chinese. These last had their hands tied by gov
ernment interference and corruption back home, but once abroad
showed a spirit of enterprise that left rivals far behind.
So the Dutch learned to fight. Their seamen may have left the Texel
as landlubbers, but in the months it took to reach the Indies, they
drilled every day, clearing the decks, running the guns into position,
hauling ammunition, testing their marksmanship, working the fire-
fighting apparatus, getting ready for combat at sea. They would need
these skills, if they were fortunate enough to survive the normal haz
ards of a long sea journey.
Back in Amsterdam, company directors had littie stomach for these
costs and risks, which ate up most of the price differential between pur
chase and sale. Spices, for example, were then worth ten and twelve
times in Europe what they brought in the Indies; but once the over
head was factored in, profits fell to less than 100 percent—still sub
stantial, but a far cry from the mirage of expectation.
To be sure, it was precisely the trammels of this market that ac
counted for the huge difference in price between origin and con-