“Hindustan is a country of few charms,” observed Zahiruddin Muhammad Babur, after conquering India in the 16th century. The founder of the Mughal empire was unimpressed by the handicrafts, horses, markets, people—and especially the fruit. He complained constantly about the lack of decent melons. But even grumpy Babur could not deny the pleasures of mangoes, which “when good, are very good”. The mango, he concluded, is “the best fruit of Hindustan”.

The people of the subcontinent would go further, declaring it the finest in the world. It is the national fruit of both India and Pakistan. Every region has a favourite variety, from the sublime Alphonso of western India to the sophisticated Dasheri of the north, sparking interminable arguments about which is best. (There is no wrong answer.)

Mango is used as an ingredient in chutney, daal, ice-cream, juice, sherbets and more. But mostly it is eaten alone: ripe, golden, with its juices trickling down the arms. The mango is a gift of love, a lubricant for dealmaking, a plausibly deniable bribe, a reward, an indulgence and a necessity. It is part of the very essence of being Indian—or Pakistani.

That makes it a potent tool of diplomacy. Indian leaders have presented crates to American presidents, Pakistanis to Chairman Mao and the Indian prime minister. Sheikh Hasina, who was recently driven from power in Bangladesh, once sent India 2,600kg of mangoes as a “memento of friendship”. Although trade between India and Pakistan is paltry, mangoes are permitted to cross the border.

However, most of South Asia’s mangoes stay at home. India is the world’s biggest mango producer, with volumes greater than the next nine growers combined, according to Tridge, a data firm. Yet its share of the global export market by value is a meagre 7%. Mexico, which produces a tenth as much as India, accounts for a quarter. The reasons are many, writes Sopan Joshi in “Mangifera Indica”, a new book about mangoes. Chief among them are the delicate nature of the fruit, poor growing practices in India and strict standards in Western markets. No one is sure how many mango varieties exist, but India probably has around 1,000.

This is the West’s loss. If Americans and Europeans are not besotted by mangoes, it is because they have tasted only the more mediocre produce of Mexico and Brazil. That may be starting to change: the volume of India’s official mango shipments to America in 2023 was up a fifth on the previous year, to over 2,000 tonnes. America is also providing grading and sorting machines to Pakistan to boost exports. The mango, as every South Asian knows, is as much about social bonds as about flavour. A fruit this fine demands to be shared.