The government of the Delhi Sultanate was a minimum government. The sultans occupied the realm, but hardly governed it. Brigands and wild hill tribes often rampaged through the land, swooping down from their inaccessible forest habitats. At times they even menaced major towns. Protection against them was mainly the concern of the local people, seldom that of the sultan. And when the sultan acted against brigands, it was mainly to safeguard his revenue, hardly ever to protect the people. Indeed, the sultans themselves at times acted like brigands, pillaging their own subjects, to collect the overdue taxes from them. And at times even common villagers turned into rampaging brigands.
The usual means of the Delhi sultans to pacify their refractory subjects was to devastate their lands and slaughter the people there en-masse. In the case of Vijayanagar, even its most successful king, Krishnadeva, found it difficult to control the depredations of marauding hill tribes. So he sought to placate them, or to divert their raids into other kingdoms, holding that, as he wrote in Amukta-malyada, ‘if the king grows angry with them, he cannot wholly destroy them, but if he wins their affection by kindness and charity, they serve him by invading the enemy’s territory and plundering it.’
MEDIEVAL INDIAN STATES had no fixed frontiers—their frontiers were what their army controlled at any given time. So the territory of the state varied from reign to reign, and even from time to time during the reign of each sultan or raja. And the control of the central government over the provinces of the kingdom also varied from reign to reign. The sultans and the rajas usually kept a certain portion of their kingdom, its richest districts, under their direct administration. The rest of the kingdom was divided into provinces, and given to royal favourites to govern and collect revenue.
During the reign of Ala-ud-din Khalji the Delhi Sultanate was divided into twelve provinces (subas), each under a governor. Each province in turn was divided into a number of districts (sarkars), and the districts again into taluks (parganas). Each taluk was made up of a number of villages, which were the basic administrative units of the state all through pre-modern history of India. Villages were virtually autonomous, and royal officers did not normally intrude into their affairs as long they paid their revenue dues to the king, and did not create any major law and order problem, like breaking out into rebellion or taking to brigandage.
The other divisions of the state—provinces, districts and taluks—also, like villages, enjoyed considerable autonomy in medieval India, in Muslim as well as Hindu kingdoms. Provinces were in fact semi-independent states, and provincial governors functioned like semi-independent rulers, except that the king exercised hegemonic control over them. In Vijayanagar, as Sewell notes, each provincial chief ‘was allowed entire independence in the territory allotted to him so long as he maintained the quota of horse, foot, and elephants … [assigned to him, and kept them] in perfect readiness for immediate action, and paid his annual tribute to his sovereign. Failing these he was liable to instant ejection, as the king was lord of all and nobles held [their office] only by his goodwill.’
The ultimate authority in the Sultanate in all matters was the sultan. In theory he was expected to rule according orthodox Islamic laws and conventions, but in practice he was usually an autocrat, who did whatever he pleased and could get away with. Autocracy did not however necessarily mean tyranny. Though several of the sultans were indeed dreadful tyrants, there were also several sultans who were benevolent rulers. And some of the tyrannical sultans—Ala-ud-din, for instance—were exceptionally caring about the welfare of the common people.
Next to the sultan in authority was the wazir, chief minister. The entire civil administration of the empire was under his purview, and it was he who appointed all the top civil servants and oversaw their work. The management of the finances of the empire—the collection of revenue and the allocation of funds to various government departments—was his particular responsibility. He also had the responsibility of getting the accounts submitted by various government departments and provinces audited, and of taking measures to recover from officers the funds they had misappropriated or squandered. And it was he who disbursed funds to deserving scholars and writers, and sanctioned charitable payments to the indigent. The responsibilities and powers of the wazir were so wide and important that his role in the state was held to be as crucial for its survival as the role of the soul for the survival of a man.
Alongside the wazir there were three other senior ministers in the Delhi Sultanate, each in charge of a crucial government department: Diwan-i-risalat, which administered religious institutions and allotted financial support to the pious and the scholarly; Diwan-i-arz, which controlled the military establishment; and Diwan-i-insha, which handled the state correspondence, collected intelligence reports from the various provinces of the empire, and supervised the transactions between the central government and the provincial officials. These three officers, along with the wazir, were considered the four pillars of the government.
These officers, like all the other top officers of the state, held their posts at the pleasure of the sultan. So what mattered most to them, in terms of their career prospects, was their ability to please the sultan, rather than their ability to discharge their official duties efficiently. And no one was ever secure in his office, his position being subject to the whims of the sultan as well as the conspiratorial intrigues of rival officers. Inevitably, it was the most earnest and efficient officers who were in the greatest peril, as they most roused the envy of their fellow officers.
IN THE EARLY period of the Delhi Sultanate, till the reign of Balban, the relationship of the nobles with the sultan was of camaraderie than of subservience. Balban changed that, and raised the status of the sultan far above that of the nobles. Consequently most of the nobles became abjectly servile towards the sultan, though there were still a few rare instances of royal officers boldly asserting themselves before the sultan. Such was the case of Ainu-l Mulk, ‘a wise, accomplished … [and] clever man,’ as Afif describes him. He held a senior position in the government under Firuz Tughluq, but had a personality clash with the wazir and was therefore dismissed from service. However, a few days later, the sultan, unwilling to lose the services of this able officer, assigned to him the charge of three fiefs along the critically important north-west frontier of the empire. But Ainu-l Mulk submitted that he would accept the appointment only if he was allowed to submit his reports directly to the sultan, and not through the wazir, and he took charge of the assignment only when the sultan acceded to that condition.
That was an exceptional case. The normal attitude of the nobles towards the sultan was of obsequiousness, and this was evident even in the manner in which provincial governors formally received royal orders. ‘It was the custom for every chief when he heard of the coming of a royal order to go out two or three kos to meet its bearer,’ records Abdullah, a late medieval chronicler, about the practice in the Sultanate during the reign of Sikandar Lodi. ‘A terrace was then erected, on which the messenger placed himself, whilst the nobleman standing beneath received the firman in the most respectful manner with both hands, and placed it on his head … If it was to be read privately he did so, and if it was to be made known to the people, it was read from the pulpit of the mosque.’
Such shows of servility by the nobles were however just pretences in most cases—if the sultan grew weak, or the noble grew powerful, the noble’s attitude towards the sultan changed from servility to defiance. Provincial insubordination and rebellion were in fact perennial problems in the Delhi Sultanate.
The provincial governments of the Delhi Sultanate were virtual replicas of its central government, with the governor in the provincial capital occupying a position similar to that of the sultan in Delhi. The main duties of the governor were to collect revenue from his province, and to maintain law and order there. From the revenue of his province the governor had to remit a specified portion to the royal treasury, and with the rest of the revenue meet his administrative expens
es, maintain a military contingent for the sultan, and also meet his personal expenses. The provincial governor in turn farmed out his territory to his subordinates, to administer and to collect revenue.
A BAFFLING FEATURE of the Delhi Sultanate was the open and rampant corruption in its government at all levels, from the highest to the lowest. ‘It was well known in the world that government clerks and servants were given to peculation,’ states Afif. And they often indulged in venality right under the sultan’s nose. ‘It usually happens that there is a long delay in the payment of the money gifts of the sultan,’ grouses Battuta, who once had to wait for six months before receiving the twelve thousand dinars awarded to him by Muhammad Tughluq. ‘They have a custom also of deducting a tenth from all the sums given by the sultan.’ Once when the sultan sanctioned a payment to Battuta and ordered the treasurer to pay it, ‘the treasurer greedily demanded a bribe for doing so and would not write the order,’ states Battuta. ‘So I sent him two hundred tankas (silver coins), but he returned them. One of his servants told me from him that he wanted five hundred tankas, but I refused to pay it.’ Eventually the sultan had to intervene before the money was paid to Battuta.
Provincial governors and other high government officials, even the sultan himself, were not above seeking recompense for doing favours, the only difference being that in their case the offerings were treated as presents, not as bribes. Also, with them it was the rarity of the items offered, and the sentiment behind the offering, that were esteemed more than the cash value of what was offered. Thus when Battuta first arrived in India he presented to the governor of Sind ‘a white slave, a horse, and some raisins and almonds.’ Of these, what the governor appreciated most were the raisins and almonds. ‘These,’ comments Battuta, ‘are among the greatest gifts that can be made to them, since these do not grow in their land and are imported from Khurasan.’
Another aspect of the medieval Indian custom of giving presents was that just as subordinates gave presents to their superiors to win favours from them, superiors often gave presents to their subordinates to secure their loyalty. This was done even by the sultans. Loyalty was invariably on sale in medieval India. All were equally perfidious, at all levels of government and society. Probity was a luxury that virtually no one in medieval India could afford, neither kings nor nobles, nor the common people. Thus Ala-ud-din Khalji, who usurped the throne by murdering his uncle, had no difficulty in winning over to his side the top officers of the empire by liberally presenting to them large sums of money. And ‘those unworthy men, greedy for gold … and caring nothing for loyalty … joined Ala-ud-din,’ observes Barani. Similarly, Ala-ud-din won over the common people of Delhi by showering gold stars on them with a portable catapult. ‘He scattered so much gold that the faithless people easily forgot the murder of the late sultan, and rejoiced over his succession,’ concludes Barani. And, according to Mughal chronicler Yadgar, Sultan Ibrahim Lodi, who faced opposition from a brother on his accession, one day ‘summoned all the nobles into his private apartment and gained them to his side by making them presents in gold, and giving them titles and dignities.’
THE ATTITUDE OF the sultans towards their nobles during most of the Delhi Sultanate history was a bizarre mixture of two contrary modes, tyrannical as well as complaisant. The scene was however quite different in the first phase of the history of the Sultanate, for at that time there was no great difference in the status of the sultan and of the nobles, and the relationship between them was like that of comrades, rather than that of a king and his subjects, as it became later. This amity was in part because of the egalitarian ethos of early Islam, and also because the early sultans of Delhi were, like several of their top officers, manumitted slaves or their descendants.
In early Islamic society it was no disgrace or handicap for one to be a slave, for slaves could rise to any position—including that of the sultan—that they merited by their abilities. Though hardly anyone initially became a slave by choice, and most of them had been sold into slavery as children, or were captured and enslaved by marauders or conquerors, many slaves rose to high positions by their ability, dedication and hard work.
Many slaves no doubt led degrading lives, but being a slave was not in itself a disability or disgrace in early medieval Muslim society. There was no social or political prejudice against slaves as a class. Indeed, to be the favourite slave of a monarch or a high noble was a great advantage for a careerist, for that opened up major avenues for professional advancement for him, and several such slaves rose to be top officers in the Delhi Sultanate. Some nobles, even some sultans, honoured their favourite slaves by giving their daughters in marriage to them. Indeed, being a royal slave was a high honour and distinction, and three of them—Aibak, Iltutmish and Balban—succeeded their masters to the throne.
Another curious feature of the Delhi Sultanate was that the sultans generally preferred to appoint foreign migrants—Arabs, Turks and Persians—to top administrative and military posts in their government, reflecting their disdain for native Indians. And they usually treated foreign visitors with high regard. ‘It is a custom of the sultan of India … to honour strangers, to favour them, and to distinguish them in a manner quite peculiar, by appointing them to … [high government posts],’ records Battuta about what he observed in Delhi in the fourteenth century. ‘Most of his (sultan’s) courtiers, chamberlains, wazirs, magistrates, and brothers-in-law are foreigners.’ Battuta himself, a Moorish adventurer, was appointed by Muhammad Tughluq as a judge in Delhi on a high salary of 12,000 dinars a year. And when he left to continue his travels, he was designated as the royal ambassador to China.
This partiality of the sultans for foreigners sometimes led to tension between foreign and native officials, and, in the case of Bahmani Sultanate, it even led to a few gory riots. However, despite the bias of the sultans in favour foreign migrants, paths for the advancement of talented natives remained open in Muslim kingdoms, and several Hindu converts to Islam rose to high positions in those states over time. The prominence gained by Raihan, a mid-thirteenth century Hindu convert to Islam, who became powerful enough in royal service even to overshadow Balban, the then topmost royal officer in the Delhi Sultanate, was indicative of the growing prominence of Indian Muslims in government. From the reign of Khaljis on the number and importance Indian Muslims in government increased considerably. This was partly because of the proven ability of the Indian Muslim officers, like Malik Kafur under Ala-ud-din Khalji, and partly because their appointment to high offices had become a practical necessity for the sultans from the thirteenth century on, because the interposition of Mongols between India and the Turko-Persian homelands drastically reduced the migration of foreign Muslims into India.
One of the most remarkable of the Indian Muslim officers of the Delhi Sultanate was Khan-i Jahan Maqbul, a Hindu convert from Telingana, who, though illiterate, rose to the highest position in the Sultanate by his sheer ability. He joined the service of the Sultanate during the reign of Muhammad Tughluq who, recognising his merit, raised him rapidly in official positions, and finally appointed him as the deputy wazir. ‘Although he had no knowledge of reading and writing, he was a man of great common sense, acumen and intelligence, and was an ornament of the court,’ reports Afif. Firuz Tughluq appointed Maqbul as his wazir, and left him as his deputy in Delhi whenever he set out on military campaigns.
Maqbul was in every respect a most extraordinary person—his physical prowess matched his mental prowess, and so did his sexual prowess. ‘He was,’ according to Afif, ‘much devoted to the pleasures of the harem, and sought eagerly for pretty handmaids. It is reported that he had 2000 women of Europe and China in his harem, where he spent much of his time notwithstanding his onerous official duties,’ and he fathered a great many children. And to cap it all, Maqbul lived in so grand a style that Firuz Tughluq was often heard jocularly remarking that Maqbul was indeed ‘the grand and magnificent king of Delhi.’
APART FROM THE Hindu converts to Is
lam, Hindus themselves also played vital roles in the affairs of the Delhi Sultanate. Right from the beginning of the Sultanate, in fact even from the time of Mahmud Ghazni, several Hindu chieftains served as captains in the armies of Muslim kings, and they sometimes played crucial roles in the campaigns of sultans, leading their own contingents into battle. And a good number of the common soldiers in the armies of the sultans in India were Hindus.
In civil administration, the preponderant majority of the staff of the Delhi Sultanate, at all but the top one or two levels, were Hindus, particularly in the provinces. The sultans did not have the manpower from their own people to man the entire administration, or even to man all the crucial offices of their extensive Indian empire with its vast and diverse population. Nor did they have the local knowledge needed to run the local administration. They therefore necessarily had to depend heavily on Hindus to run the government.
At the district and village levels the administration in Muslim states was almost entirely manned by Hindus, and there the traditional indigenous administrative institutions and hereditary officers generally—except during the reign of Ala-ud-din Khalji—continued to function as they had done for centuries before the Muslim invasion. This was particularly true of village administration. Villages were virtually autonomous during the medieval period, as they had been for very many centuries. The government of the sultans did not normally intrude into village administration at all, except for revenue collection and for the maintenance of law and order. But even in these functions, Muslim officers and fief-holders generally played only a supervisory role, for villages policed themselves in normal times, and revenue collection was mostly managed by the traditional local functionaries.
The Age of Wrath: A History of the Delhi Sultanate Page 38