Khuswant Singh purportedly cites Sohan Lal Suri’s account, suggesting that Ranjit Singh entered Peshawar triumphantly and was welcomed by the citizens with gifts, the clear implication being that Caroe’s account might be untrustworthy or one-sided. Sohal Lal does make mention of noblemen paying homage to the conquering Ranjit Singh, but somewhat cryptically he also says: ‘… confiscation and plunder took place in some of the villages they came across in the beginning.’
Disconcerting as the notion might be, it is highly probable that the plundering and looting did occur. The thirst for riches was the primary motivation for soldiers in those days and sacking captured cities was de rigueur. Olaf’s account may be a bit exaggerated, but it is certainly hard to dismiss.
Ranjit Singh confirmed Yar Mohammad as the governor of Peshawar and returned in triumph to Lahore.
One of the important consequences of the Battle of Noushera was the rise of Dost Mohammad. With the death of Azeem Khan, there was no single leader that the Barakzais were willing to rally behind. Two years of civil strife followed until finally in 1826, Dost Mohammad became the acknowledged ruler of Kabul.
Dost Mohammad was the eleventh son of the doughty Payanda Khan; his mother was from the Persian Qizilbash tribe. Growing up, he had become the protégé of his brilliant older brother Fateh Khan, who ousted Shah Shuja and Shah Zaman from the Afghan throne. After Dost Mohammad Khan established himself in Kabul he began to extend his rule throughout Afghanistan. He took Ghaznī and defeated Shah Shuja at Kandahar but failed to restore Afghan sovereignty over Peshawar in 1834 and again in 1837, each time submitting to Ranjit Singh’s authority. In 1838, he adopted the title ‘Amīr-al-momenīn’ (Commander of the Faithful) and waged jihad against the Sikhs.
Dost Mohammad had a complicated relationship with Ranjit Singh. At various times he submitted to him and claimed that he respected the Maharaja like a ‘father’, but he could not tolerate Sikh control over Peshawar and the surrounding areas, which he believed firmly to be his. His son, Akbar Khan, led his forces in the famous battle of Jamrud, which also ended in an Afghan rout, but brought them the prize scalp of General Hari Singh Nalwa, who to this day is remembered as the scourge of Afghanistan.
The last chapter in the complex history of the Sikhs and Afghans unfolded in 1839. It involved a third power, whose hitherto covert designs on both the Sikh and Afghan empires were going to become more apparent.
By 1837, the British were once again staring at the spectre of a Russian invasion from the north-west. After the fall of Napoleon, Russia had emerged as Britain’s primary colonial rival. Competition between the two states for power and influence in Central Asia gave rise to a web of intrigue and espionage, known as ‘The Great Game’. India was a source of never-ending wealth for the British Empire and was impenetrable from the sea, protected as it was by British naval supremacy. Any successful invasion would have to come by land. Afghanistan, a fractious and apparently insignificant tribal society suddenly became very important to British strategy. While the British were uninterested in incorporating Afghanistan into their empire, they saw it as a vital buffer zone between their possessions in India and an ambitious Russia.*
In 1837, the brilliant young Alexander Burnes was sent on a mission to the court of Emir Dost Mohammad to secure an alliance against Russia. The Emir agreed in principle, but in return, sought British help to regain Peshawar from Ranjit Singh. The Anglo-Sikh alliance had stood the test of time and the British were not interested in alienating the powerful Ranjit Singh. Burnes had been very impressed by Dost Mohammad and urged the then Governor-General of India, Lord Auckland, to make common cause with him, but he was overruled, in large part because of the counsel of Wiliam Macnaghten, a British bureaucrat and Claude Wade, the British Resident at Ludhiana, who had become a staunch supporter of Shah Shuja.
Shah Shuja, living in exile in Ludhiana, had made multiple abortive attempts to recapture the throne and revive the fortunes of the Sadozais. It looked like fortune was finally smiling upon him. Shah Shuja told Wade that if he was reinstated to the throne of Kabul, he would open Afghanistan’s trade routes to the British and guarantee a friendly buffer zone against a potential Russian threat.
In October 1838, Lord Auckland issued a manifesto outlining the reasons for British intervention in Afghanistan, which said that British troops would go to Afghanistan merely to support Shah Shuja’s army in retaking what was rightfully his and would leave the country once Shah Shuja was reinstated to the monarchy.
One more piece needed to fall in place.
Nervous about the growing power of the Sikhs, the British were eager to limit their further westward expansion. In order to pre-empt Sikh designs in Afghanistan, the British sought to make Ranjit Singh a party to the plan to restore Shah Shuja to the throne. The wily Ranjit Singh was highly unenthusiastic, but decided to play along. A tripartite treaty was drafted between the British, Shah Shuja and Ranjit Singh, which the Maharaja signed on 26 June, 1838; Shah Shuja affixed his seal to it on 17 July, 1838.
The stage was set for the First Anglo-Afghan War, one of the greatest debacles in military history, which would shatter the myth of the invincibility of the British in the Indian subcontinent.
An army of 21,000 British and Indian troops under the command of John Keane set out from Punjab in December 1838. With them was Macnaghten, who was to be Britain’s chief representative to Kabul. By late March, 1839 the British forces had reached the city of Quetta and begun their march on Kabul. On 25 April 1839, they took Kanddahar; Ghazni fell on 22 July, 1839 and finally, the British engaged and defeated Emir Dost Mohammad, who fled to Bokhara. In August 1839, after almost thirty years, Shah Shuja recaptured the throne of Kabul.
It appeared to be a stunning reversal of fortune and it seemed that the reign of the Barakzais was to be short-lived.
Most of the British troops returned to India, leaving 8,000 in Afghanistan, but it soon became apparent that Shuja was viewed as a mere puppet of the British, whose presence was greatly resented by the Afghans. The resentment was heightened when Macnaghten allowed his soldiers to bring their families to Afghanistan to improve morale, making the British occupation seem permanent. Dost Mohammad unsuccessfully attacked the British but eventually surrendered and was exiled to India in late 1840.
Between April and October 1841, unhappy Afghan tribesmen flocked to the side of Akbar Khan, the most dynamic of Dost Mohammad’s sons. A full-scale rebellion began. In November 1841, Alexander Burnes, whose stories of sexual escapades with Afghan women had scandalised and infuriated many was attacked and killed by a mob in Kabul. In the following weeks Macnaghten tried to negotiate with Akbar Khan, offering to make him Wazir in exchange for ending his rebellion, while simultaneously plotting to have him assassinated. A meeting for direct negotiations between Macnaghten and Akbar was held near the British cantonment on 23 December, during which Macnaghten and the three officers accompanying him were seized and killed by Akbar Khan. Macnaghten’s body was dragged through the streets of Kabul and displayed in the bazaar.
On 1 January, 1842, the exodus of the British forces and their dependents from Afghanistan was negotiated with Akbar Khan. Five days later, the withdrawal began. The departing British contingent numbered around 16,500, of which about 4,500 were military personnel, and 12,000 were camp followers. The evacuees were attacked by Ghilzai tribesmen as they struggled through the snowbound passes and killed in huge numbers as they made their way down treacherous gorges and passes lying along the Kabul River. A few were taken prisoner, but most perished. The sole Briton who managed to limp into Kandahar alive was the assistant surgeon to the Kabul mission, Dr. William Brydon.
Abandoned by his British allies, Shah Shuja managed to maintain a tenuous hold on power, until he was murdered by his own godson on 5 April, 1842.
Thus ended the dynasty founded by the mighty conqueror, Ahmad Shah Durrani, who proudly strode the lands of the Afghanistan and Punjab just a few decades ago.
The end of the
Sukerchakias was no less spectacular or tragic. Ranjit Singh passed away in 1839.
Fate was much kinder to the Barakzais. The descendants of Payanda Khan were destined to rule for generations, albeit over a reduced empire.
Later in 1842, Dost Mohammad Khan was quietly released by the British and allowed to return to Afghanistan, where he reclaimed his throne. During his second reign, he was able to bring all of Afghanistan under his direct control but the recapture of Peshawar and Kashmir eluded him to the very end. He died of natural causes in 1863 and was succeeded by his son Sher Ali Khan.
The Barakzais ruled Afghanistan until 1973. The last Barakzai monarch was Mohammad Zahir Shah, who ruled Afghanistan until he was ousted in a coup by Mohammad Daoud Khan.
Tall, richly caparisoned and bejewelled elephants, swaying majestically.
Countless horses, faster than the wind, prancing like deer.
Kings, strong of arm; saluted by all; their power incomprehensible.
Of what consequence these trappings? For they too depart barefoot from this world.
When Guru Gobind Singh wrote these lines, he could have been talking about the mighty Mughals, the brilliant and fearless Nadir Shah, the Sadozais, the Barakzais and the Sukerchakias. All of them ruled large territories including Punjab. Some were despots, others were men of vision and compassion. They were all united by a strong urge, even a lust for power, territory, riches and conquest.
One more thing united them all.
In the end, their glory notwithstanding, all of them did depart barefoot too.
* * *
* Southern Punjab is known as Malwa and is not to be confused with the Malwa of Central India.
* The Great Game was a political and diplomatic confrontation that existed for most of the nineteenth century between the British Empire and the Russian Empire over Afghanistan and neighbouring territories in Central and Southern Asia. Russia was fearful of British commercial and military inroads into Central Asia, and Britain was fearful of Russian designs on India, which the British considered their ‘jewel in the crown’. This resulted in an atmosphere of distrust and the constant threat of war between the two empires. Britain made it a high priority to protect all the approaches to India, and the ‘Great Game’ was the British response to a possible Russian threat.
THE TIMELESS WARRIOR
The year was 1808. A twenty-three-year-old British civil servant named Charles Metcalfe, who was to become one of the brightest stars in the colonial firmament and would go on to serve as Governor of Jamaica and Governor-General of Canada, was sent on a mission to the court of Maharaja Ranjit Singh, by then, the undisputed master of Punjab. A year earlier, Napoleon Bonaparte had signed the Treaty of Tilsit with Russia, which had alarmed the British greatly. Russia had a large border with Afghanistan and the prospect of a Franco-Russian invasion of the British Indian colonies, which had always been feared, was now a very real possibility. Recognising Ranjit Singh’s power, the British viewed him as a critical buffer between their territories and an invading army that might appear at the passes leading to Punjab from Afghanistan, and sent Metcalfe to negotiate a defensive treaty against the Franco-Russian alliance with the Sikhs. The Great Game was on!
Metcalfe’s mission to Ranjit Singh’s court, the signing of the Treaty of Amritsar and its consequences are a fascinating topic. A biography of Metcalfe by Sir John William Kaye, published in 1858, describes an incident that occurred when the mission was in Amritsar:
It was the end of February in 1809. Metcalf and his retinue were in Amritsar and the festival of Moharram was being celebrated by the Muslims of Amritsar. Considerable sums of money had been spent on the construction and decoration of gigantic cars, called tazeeahs, which were paraded about for several days in a boisterous manner, to the great delight of all the Muslims of the city who took great pride in the grandeur of the ceremony. The Muslim sepoys of Metcalfe’s escort also made a tazeeah and paraded it about with the usual ceremonies, in the neighbourhood of the mission’s camp. For three or four days this went on without interruption; and then Metcalfe was informed that the display of the tazeeah had given offence to the priests of the Golden Temple of Amritsur. Had he known this before, he would have prohibited the celebration of the festival, however unpopular the restriction might have been to the Muslim Sepoys in his escort. Since the ceremonies were now nearly over, Metcalfe did not take any further action but commanded that in the future such celebrations be unobtrusive, and that the tazeeah not be paraded about in public. The very secular Runjeet Singh did not share the supposed bigotry of the priests and assured Metcalfe that there would be no negative consequences to the display of the Muslim Sepoys’ religious zeal. ‘I did everything that could be done,’ said Metcalfe, reporting the circumstances to the government, ‘to prevent any offence being taken, except destroying the tazeeah itself. That could not be done without exciting great indignation among the Mahomedans; and I had a right to expect that within the precincts of the British camp my attendants would be protected by the government in the free exercise of their religion.’28
To preempt any trouble, it was agreed between Metcalfe and Ranjit Singh that the sepoys would be restrained from going into the town, and no residents of Amritsar would be allowed into the mission’s camp. Metcalfe was able to restrain his troops but on the morning of 25 February a group of orthodox Sikh warriors, half-soldiers, half-devotees, known as Akalis, marched out of the town with drums beating and colours flying, followed by a crowd of townspeople, intent upon plundering the British mission. As they neared the camp, a detachment headed by Captain Popham, one of Metcalfe’s officers, was deployed to protect it, while Metcalfe sent representatives to parley with the excited Akalis. The Sikhs, however, continued to advance upon the camp with a menacing attitude and opened fire on the British camp. Several sepoys were killed and Popham requested permission to counterattack. Metcalfe reluctantly agreed and Popham’s detachment charged the Akalis, who fled in confusion, retreating behind the walls of Amritsar.
As soon as Ranjit Singh became aware of the fracas he rode to the British camp to restore order. However, his efforts were in vain because the Akalis had regrouped and were threatening a second attack on the camp. During the rest of the day, and through the night, the Akalis continued to gather in force before the mission camp. Finally, Ranjit Singh had to send a large body of his own troops to protect the British mission. The following day the mission’s camp was moved further away from the town and the Muslim sepoys were able to complete their Moharram celebrations in peace.
The Sikh warriors who attacked Metcalfe’s camp were under the command of Akali Phoola Singh, who was one of the most colourful of the cast of characters that made up Ranjit Singh’s court in his years as king.
Akali Phoola Singh was born in 1761. His father, Ishar Singh, a warrior of the Shaheed Misl (confederacy), was fatally wounded during the Wada Ghallughara (the great massacre of the Sikhs at the hands of Ahmad Shah Abdali of Afghanistan) in 1762. Before his death he entrusted Bhai Narain Singh (also known as Bhai Naina Singh), the leader of the Shaheed Misl with the responsibility of raising his infant son. By 1799, when Ranjit Singh became the master of Lahore, Akali Phoola Singh had become the sixth Jathedar or leader of the Shaheed Misl and was known as one of the most fearless warriors among the Akalis, also known as the Nihangs.
The Nihangs were an order of militant Sikhs, who were known for their bravery in battle. The word ‘Nihang’ has Persian roots and connotes the ferocity of a crocodile. The origins of the Nihang order are obscure; a story, probably apocryphal, credits Fateh Singh, the youngest of Guru Gobind Singh’s four sons with the founding of the order. It is said that that upon being turned away from a weapons training session by his older brothers on account of being too little, a chagrined Fateh Singh went away but returned in blue robes, sporting a tall blue turban adorned with steel ‘chakkars’ (quoits) and armed with a spear, insisting that he was now ‘big enough’ to join the mock battle. It is said the Guru
Gobind Singh, pleased with his spirit blessed him and from this incident sprang forth the fiercest order of Sikh warriors!
The Nihangs were also known as Akalis (Immortals) as they had dedicated their lives to the service of the immortal or timeless lord. The Nihangs have historically been held in great affection and esteem by Sikhs due to the pivotal role they have played in Sikh military history, often fighting against heavy odds. Today, the Nihang order is largely ceremonial, but to this day Nihangs are identifiable by their electric-blue attire, the bangles or bracelets of steel round their wrists, and the steel quoits in their lofty conical blue turbans, together with the daggers, knives and swords of varying sizes and iron chains they sport on their persons.
The relationship between Akali Phoola Singh and Maharaja Ranjit Singh was a complicated one. While Akali Phoola Singh did eventually enter his service, he was a fearless man who found it hard to accept anyone’s authority. The Nihangs usually led peripatetic lives, travelling to various Sikh shrines and unabashedly extracting whatever they needed for subsistence from whomever they pleased. They lived by a code, which made them the protectors of the poor and the oppressed and they were not averse to enforcing the redistribution of wealth by taking from the wealthy at the point of a sword or lance.
By 1800, Akali Phoola Singh, at the head of a band of two thousand Akalis had taken up residence in Amritsar, with his headquarters at the Akal Bunga, opposite the Harmandir Sahib. The young Ranjit Singh had just conquered Lahore from the triumvirate of Bhangi chiefs who had control of the city. Two years later, he turned his attention to Amritsar, Punjab’s second city after Lahore, and one which represented the heart of Sikhism. Amritsar was under the control of several prominent Sikh families, notable among them, a branch of the Bhangis, led by Mai Sukhan, the widow of Gulab Singh Bhangi.
The Camel Merchant of Philadelphia Page 6