The benefits of an integrated Indian Ocean are clear and multifaceted: increased trade, better maritime security, more effective responses to climate change, just to name a few. And yet, as Mauritian citizens, how many of us could correctly plot the various islands of the Indian Ocean on a map? How much do we know of their cultures and histories? To frame the question constructively: What would it take to truly begin thinking of the Indian Ocean as an integrated region with shared challenges and objectives, rather than a constellation of isolated islands pledging allegiance to different global powers and competing for the same tourists?

These questions are both long-standing and urgent. One only has to cast a look at the headlines of the past two weeks. As the Mauritian Prime Minister highlighted during the fifth summit of the Indian Ocean Commission held in Madagascar on April 24, Indian Ocean cooperation is crucial, be it regarding food safety or maritime security in the region. A few days later, other headlines delved into the disastrous and widespread phenomenon of coral bleaching, be it in Mauritius or Mayotte. In fields as varied as trade and ecology, then, it is high time to be actively thinking through the Indian Ocean region as an interconnected archipelago, rather than a collection of small and isolated islands.

And yet, for most of us living in the region, our neighbouring islands remain difficultly accessible, both physically and conceptually. Our closest neighbour is Reunion island: however, it is not uncommon for Mauritian citizens to be more strictly inspected when arriving in this French department, than when landing in Paris. And were one to try booking a flight from Mauritius to Comoros, the most straightforward (and often only) option would be to transit through the African mainland, more specifically Kenya.

How, then, do we move forward?

In addition to the perhaps obvious responses of having more direct aviation, trade and environmental conservation links, I suspect that two additional components of long-term “Indian Ocean thinking” are education and culture. We need to complement logistical and economic concerns with deeper conversations. After all, how much does the average Mauritian student today know of Malagasy, Seychellois, Reunionese, Mahoran or Comoran histories and cultures – even as these islands are always interwoven in the fabric of everyday experience? For example, as a child, one of my uncles worked in the textile industry in Madagascar, and his family was settled in Antananarivo for many years. My very first “international” trip was to see them there. And yet, it is only two decades later, when I was studying Indian Ocean literatures halfway around the world, that I finally learnt about Madagascar’s rice fields and traditions of fady, its awe-inspiring queens and long struggle for independence, its sacred ritual of Famadihana.

There are low-barrier ways of interweaving these elements into Mauritian education (for God knows the school curriculum needs no further burdening!). The fervour of the Jeux des Iles de l’Océan Indien, for example, is often a high point for the hosting country, as was the case in Mauritius in 2019. I sense here a golden opportunity for deeper engagement. I wonder about the potential, for example, of combining the period around the Jeux des Iles de l’Océan Indien with cultural and educational activities that allow the host country’s students, athletes and members of the public to engage with the region beyond the sports fields.

Indian Ocean (dis)connections are also linked to two other pressing contemporary challenges: the attractiveness of Mauritian higher education, and the perennial issue of the brain drain. Mauritius is currently seeking to make higher education on the island more appealing to foreign students. At the same time, it is also struggling to tackle the brain drain of local talent to foreign shores where career opportunities are more fulfilling, including in the spheres of academia and policy-making. On the other hand, centers for Indian Ocean studies are blossoming in various parts of the globe, such as Canada, the Netherlands, and the United States. But it is not difficult to imagine an Interdisciplinary Center for Indian Ocean Studies in Mauritius, that would be an intellectual hub for scholars and students from all over the world interested in researching the region from a plethora of perspectives – be it environmental, political, cultural or historical. Several pieces of the puzzle seem to already be in place. For example, there already exists a steady circulation of international scholars, experts and students through Mauritius, for both specific conferences as well as for sustained research at museums and sites of memory, such as the Aapravasi Ghat World Heritage Site, the Intercontinental Museum for Slavery, and Le Morne World Heritage Site. Passionate and qualified Mauritian researchers, both at home and abroad, stand ready to partake in such an initiative. After all, why should scholars and students from (and interested in) the Indian Ocean continue to have no choice but to go to abroad in order to study it? In 2025, what prevents a key exciting place for the interdisciplinary study of the Indian Ocean…. to be located in the Indian Ocean itself?

Nikhita Obeegadoo is Assistant Professor of Francophone Studies at the University of Chicago. Contact her at [email protected].