Projecting Sovereignty Across Islands and Oceans: Formal Royal Styles from Sixteenth-Century Maldives to Modern Britain

The Sultan's Ambassador Athireegay Abdul Hameed Didi poses with the Governor of Ceylon Brigadier-General Sir William Henry Manning, GCMG, KBE, CB and men of the Ceylon "Native Regiment" (sic.). On the Governor's left is Kakaagey Hussain Hilmy Didi.

In the sixteenth century the elaborate European formula of royal style, beginning with the personal name, invoking divine sanction through the phrase “by the Grace of God,” and then enumerating core territories together with secondary domains and broader rights of conquest or navigation, was deliberately adopted by an exiled Maldivian ruler operating under Portuguese influence. This created a striking parallel with the modern British royal style still employed by King Charles III. Both cases illustrate how rulers used carefully constructed titles to project sovereignty over island realms and extended domains amid overlapping external powers.

The Formal Title of the Maldivian Ruler: “Sultan of Land and Sea, Lord of the Twelve-Thousand Islands and Sultan of the Maldives”

Until 1965, the formal title of the Maldivian monarch was “Sultan of Land and Sea, Lord of the twelve-thousand islands and Sultan of the Maldives.” This grand style, accompanied by the address of Highness, encapsulated both the geographic expanse of the island nation and the dual cultural heritage of its rulers. The monarch simultaneously held the Arabic Islamic title of Sultan and the ancient Dhivehi titles of Maha Radun (Great King) or Ras Kilege (Lord/King), reflecting a seamless blend of indigenous tradition and Islamic sovereignty that defined Maldivian monarchy for over eight centuries

The Sultan's Missive ceremony Colombo 1940s Dignitaries in formal attire accompany a central figure symbolizing the Sultan of Land and Sea, Lord of the Twelve-Thousand Islands and Sultan of the Maldives, amidst a ceremonial setting with guards in ornate uniforms.

Why Sultan Hassan IX (later Dom Manoel) Specified the Territories in His Formal Style

In the mid-sixteenth century, an exiled Maldivian ruler living under Portuguese protection deliberately adopted and expanded the elaborate European formula of royal style. Sultan Hassan IX, who converted to Christianity and took the name Dom Manoel (or Dom Manuel), consistently enumerated specific territories in official documents issued from Cochin and Goa. The most famous example appears in letters patent dated 25 June 1560 (registered by the Portuguese Viceroy at Goa on 24 September 1561), which granted trading privileges to the Portuguese captain Manoel da Silveira d’Araujo. The preamble reads

“Dom Manoel, by the grace of God King of the Maldive islands, and of the three patentas of Cuaydu, and of the seven islands of Pullobay, of the conquest and navigation of all the coasts of Sumatra, and of the Strait of Manacuma, etc.”

This was no mere flourish. The careful listing of core and secondary domains served clear political, legal, and economic purposes for a ruler who no longer controlled his capital

Hassan IX had ascended the throne around 1551 after the assassination of his brother Sultan Mohamed III. Facing internal opposition, he sought Portuguese assistance, offering commercial privileges and tribute (including coir). He fled to Cochin on the Malabar Coast, converted to Catholicism in 1552,the only known Maldivian sultan to do so publicly,and was baptised, taking the name Dom Manoel. The conversion cost him the throne. He lived thereafter as an exile under Portuguese protection, first in Cochin and later mainly in Goa, continually pressing for restoration. Portuguese intervention in 1558 installed a Catholic Maldivian regent (Andiri Andirin) who governed in Dom Manoel’s name, while the Christian king remained abroad. Even after Mohamed Thakurufaanu’s successful revolt expelled the Portuguese in 1573, a treaty still recognised Dom Manoel as titular sovereign, with local co-regents administering the islands. He died in 1583; his descendants continued the claim for decades.

Sultan Muhammad Shamsuddeen III graciously welcomes a British official in Malé, 1912, surrounded by a large gathering of Maldivian dignitaries and citizens.

Without an army or direct administration in Malé, Dom Manoel’s power rested on paper, Portuguese goodwill, and economic leverage. Specifying the territories achieved four interlocking goals.First, it maintained legal and diplomatic legitimacy. In Portuguese courts, before the Viceroy in Goa, and in correspondence with the Mesa da Consciência in Lisbon, a vague claim to “the Maldives” would have been weak. By listing the Maidive islands as the core realm, adding the three patentas of Cuaydu (the southern atolls of Huvadhu/Suvadiva, Fuvahmulah, and Addu, long treated as a semi-distinct sub-kingdom), and the seven islands of Pullobay (Foalhavahi, or Golaavehi) a further southern group under Maldivian claim), Dom Manoel presented himself as a fully recognised Christian king entitled to protection and support. The formula mirrored Portuguese royal patents, making his status intelligible and authoritative within the Estado da Índia

Women and children of Gan, Addu Atoll, Maldives, 1922, captured by H. C. P. Bell, showcasing traditional attire amidst the lush tropical landscape.

Second, the enumeration justified and secured economic benefits. Portuguese port authorities compelled Maldivian merchant vessels,carrying cowries, coir (coconut rope), dried fish, and other goods,to pay a modest tribute to the “lawful sovereign” residing in Goa. Explicit territorial claims underpinned this arrangement. Although Portuguese officials often retained a substantial share, enough revenue reached Dom Manoel and later his heirs (Dom João, Dom Philippe, and others) to sustain a comfortable exile. The tribute system functioned as recognition of residual sovereignty and provided tangible income in the absence of direct taxation.

A historical photograph from 1922 captures a group of people in Mulaku Atoll, also known as Meemu Atoll, renowned for its money cowrie harvesting that played a significant role in the region's economy and trade across the Indian Ocean. (photo by: H.C.P Bell )

Third, the title expanded or formalised broader maritime claims. References to the conquest and navigation of the coasts of Sumatra and the Strait of Manacuma aligned Dom Manoel’s style with Portuguese imperial rhetoric. These additions framed him not merely as ruler of a remote archipelago but as a regional maritime prince whose authority extended across key Indian Ocean routes, claims that enhanced his prestige and usefulness to his Portuguese patrons.

Fourth, continuous formal assertion kept the claim alive for restoration and succession. Sealed, registered Portuguese documents preserved the title for his sons and grandsons. The same language featured in post-1573 treaty negotiations and later, unsuccessful attempts by descendants to reclaim the islands by force (notably around 1650). By repeatedly mapping his sovereignty onto paper, Dom Manoel ensured that the legal fiction of his kingship outlived his physical absence.

A group of women from Fua Mulaku Island in traditional attire, captured in 1922 by H.C.P. Bell, against a backdrop of thatched structures and lush greenery.

In essence, the precise territorial specifications were an instrument of soft power, a nuanced tool that allowed Dom Manoel to navigate the complex political landscape of his time. Stripped of military control and the traditional means of enforcing power, he adeptly employed the European language of sovereignty, which included terms such as divine grace, core realm, secondary domains, and rights of navigation. These concepts were not merely rhetorical flourishes; they served to legitimize his status as a ruler in the eyes of both his contemporaries and future generations. By articulating his authority through this sophisticated vocabulary, Dom Manoel was able to unlock various streams of revenue that were vital for sustaining his claim to power. Moreover, his strategic use of language was a calculated appeal for backing from European powers, who were often more inclined to support leaders who could present themselves in a manner that resonated with their own imperial ideologies.

Court ladies wearing distinctive dark red turbans known as bolufeyli stand atop the ramparts of the Etherekoilu, residence of the Sultan, circa 1930s.

This approach allowed him to transmit a hereditary claim across generations, ensuring that his lineage would maintain a semblance of legitimacy and continuity in a rapidly changing political environment. This practice was not unique to Dom Manoel; it was emblematic of a broader trend among displaced Asian rulers who sought European colonial patronage in the early modern Indian Ocean world. These leaders often found themselves in precarious positions, stripped of their traditional sources of power and influence. In response, they turned to the language of European diplomacy and governance, crafting identities that could appeal to colonial powers.

The carefully constructed title that Dom Manoel adopted was more than a mere designation; it was a transformative tool that allowed him to redefine his circumstances. It effectively transformed exile, a state often associated with loss and powerlessness, into a sustained assertion of authority that resonated across islands and oceans. Through this linguistic maneuvering, Dom Manoel was able to create a narrative of sovereignty that transcended geographical boundaries, allowing his influence to extend far beyond the physical territories he might have once controlled. In doing so, he not only preserved his own status but also carved out a space for his descendants, ensuring that the legacy of his rule would endure even in the face of displacement and colonial encroachment. The interplay of language, identity, and power in this context highlights the intricate dynamics of authority in the early modern world, where soft power often proved to be just as effective as military might in the pursuit of legitimacy and influence.