history doses
The naughty Mughals - I

By Bilal Tanweer

For the past few days I have indulged myself in Mughal history. The book that I am reading is 'The Mughal Throne' and it is written by a gentleman called Abraham Eraly. I have a great admiration for the book because the author has not just done a fine job  at illuminating the lives and times of the Mughal rulers, but also has paid particular attention to their quirks and eccentricities.

There are many conclusions one can derive from reading this very colourful account, but my unique observation has been that, among other things, Mughals were far from the very serious people that they are portrayed to be in our school history books. And once firmly seated upon the throne, they took to pastimes which were quite removed from the affairs of state management. So these few hundred words will be spent in discussing the lighter (but not insignificant) side of the Mughal life.

Babur's father was an avid pigeon fancier, which in our colloquial lingo is called, a kabootar baaz. He died when his dovecot, which was built on a hill, was caught in a landslide and ended him in a river. Babur did not have a good view of his ancestors - he considered Mughals to be 'vile and uncouth barbarians'. He preferred to call himself a Turk. He was the first one, in my reading, from the lineage of our rulers to advise his son about writing simple and clear prose - and not try to be profound using unclear and vague language. (There is a lesson here for people writing in our times!) 

Babur initially came to India because he was afraid the Uzbegs in the Central Asia might come any day and usurp his kingdom.  He felt he needed extra lands to save him, so he decided to head eastwards for India. After he defeated Ibrahim Lodhi in the famous encounter at Panipat, he found himself ambivalent. He wanted to return to his home country, but then thought of the great hardships he bore to reach India. He decided not to return. It is quite difficult to say what he missed most about his home in Kabul, but fruits, especially the melon, had to be one of them. It is reported that he broke into tears once when a sample of melon from Kabul was presented to him. Babur also had a bizarre view of literature - that, it had healing powers. He believed that irreverent poetry caused diseases, while ennobling poetry cured them.

What made Mughal princes most interesting for me was the way they treated their brothers, especially during times of succession. Humayun is perhaps my favourite in this regard. He and his brother Kamran fought a number of wars with each other, overthrowing one another a number of times. However, whenever they met, they greeted each other with tremendous affection and cried for whatever they did. It sounds rather absurd in our times, but for Mughal kings it was a simple matter - they could not live save as rulers, and to become rulers they had to rid themselves of their brothers, because till other claimants  to the throne were alive, they could never be at peace or command the utmost respect and loyalty of their subjects. Humayun, perhaps, was the best one in this regard. He forgave his brother so many times at the promise of renunciation of ambitions to throne, that by the end of it he comes across as a fool. But eventually, good sense prevails and he sent his brother on a pilgrimage to Makkah. This, by the way, was the polite way of exiling people who were troublesome, or potentially so, without maligning them. A generation later, Akbar would mete out the same treatment to his loyal administrator Bairam Khan.

Humayun was an interesting character, as he was more inclined towards rejoicing the bounties of kingship than actually working for the position. He was ousted from the throne by Sher Shah. He somehow made it to Persia to seek help. The Shah, being a powerful man, agreed to extend that help with which Humayun was to re-conquer his territory later. But interestingly Humayun was in no hurry to re-establish himself on his throne. Instead, he took a long vacation, which stretched to more than a year, in Persia at Shah's expense. Eventually, Shah had to tell him off from his lands.

I think Humayun bears a stark resemblance to our bureaucracy. Aside from the general attitudes like a penchant for relaxation and easy money, Humayun had a tendency to waste time on fancy things which look and sound good but are functionally not the best thing. For instance, Humayun divided his courtiers in twelve categories, each with three grades only to assign them with different coloured robes. (We construct roads and flyovers because we feel that this is important somehow, without assessing the needs of the city and its people). Similarly, Humayun had a fetish for astrologers; he planned out even the minutest things with their consultation. This also bears resemblance to our case. We also pay scant attention to planning, especially long-term planning, and tend to make things on an ad hoc basis.

(This column shall be continued next week.)

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