Humayun escaped to Persia, and Shah Tamasp, the ruler of the place, gave him shelter. Meanwhile Sher Khan was supreme in northern India, and for five years he ruled as Sher Shah. Even during this brief period he showed that he was a very capable person. He was a brilliant organizer, and his government was active and efficient. In the midst of his wars he found time to start a new and a better land-revenue system for assessing taxes on the cultivators. He was a stern and hard man, but of all the Afghan rulers of India, and of many others also, he was certainly the ablest and best. But, as often happens with efficient autocrats, he was all in all in his government, and with his death the whole structure went to pieces.
Humayun took advantage of this disorganization and returned from Persia in 1556 with an army. He won, and after an interval of sixteen years he was again on the throne of Delhi. But not for long. Six months later he fell down a staircase and died.
It is interesting to contrast the tombs or mausoleums of Sher Shah and Humayun. The Afghan’s tomb is at Sahasram in Bihar, a stern, strong, imperious-looking building, like the man. Humayun’s tomb is at Delhi. It is a polished and elegant building. And from these structures of stone one can form a good idea of these two rivals for empire in the sixteenth century.
Akbar was only thirteen years old then. Like his grandfather, he came to the throne early. He had a guardian and protector, Bairam Khan—the Khan Baba, he was called. But within four years Akbar wearied of guardianship and other people’s direction and took the government into his own hands.
For nearly fifty years Akbar ruled India, from early in 1556 to the end of 1605. This was the period of the revolt of the Netherlands in Europe, and of Shakespeare in England. Akbar’s name stands put in Indian history, and sometimes, and in some ways, he reminds one of Ashoka. It is a strange thing that a Buddhist Emperor of India of the third century before Christ, and a Muslim Emperor of India of the sixteenth century after Christ, should speak in the same manner and almost in the same voice. One wonders if this is not perhaps the voice of India herself speaking through two of her great sons. Of Ashoka we know little enough, except what he has himself left carved in stone. Of Akbar we know a great deal. Two contemporary historians of his Court have left long accounts, and the foreigners who visited him, and especially the Jesuits who tried hard to convert him to Christianity, have written at length.
Akbar’s Empire
He was the third in the line from Babar. But the Moghals were still new to the country. They were regarded as foreigners and their hold was military. It was Akbar’s reign that established the Moghal dynasty and made it of the soil and wholly Indian in outlook. It was in his reign that the title of Great Moghal came to be used in Europe. He was very autocratic and had uncontrolled power. There seems to have been no whisper in India then of checking a ruler’s powers. As it happened, Akbar was a wise despot, and he worked hard for the welfare of the Indian people. In a sense he might be considered to be the father of Indian nationalism. At a time when there was little of nationality in the country and religion was a dividing factor, Akbar deliberately placed the ideal of a common Indian nationhood above the claims of separatist religion. He did not wholly succeed in his attempt. But it is amazing how far he did go and what great success attended his efforts.
And yet Akbar’s success, such as it was, was not due entirely to his unaided self. No man can succeed in great tasks unless the time is ripe and the atmosphere is favourable. A great man often forces the pace and creates his own atmosphere. But the great man himself is a product of the times and of the prevailing atmosphere. So Akbar also was the product of the times in India.
In a previous letter I told you how silent forces in India worked for the synthesis of the two cultures and religions that had been thrown together in this country. I told you of new styles of architecture and of the growth of the Indian languages, and especially of Urdu or Hindustani. And I also told you of reformers and religious leaders, like Ramananda and Kabir and Guru Nanak, who sought to bring Islam and Hinduism nearer to each other by laying stress on the common features and attacking their rites and ceremonials. This spirit of synthesis was abroad, and Akbar, with his finely sensitive and receptive mind, must have absorbed it and reacted to it greatly. Indeed, he became its chief exponent.
Even as a statesman he must have come to the conclusion that his strength, and the nation’s strength, would lie in this synthesis. He was a brave enough fighter and an able general. He was, unlike Ashoka, never averse to fighting. But he preferred the gains of affection to the gains of the sword, and he knew that they would be more enduring. So he set himself out deliberately to win the good-will of the Hindu nobles and the Hindu masses. He abolished the jizya poll tax on non-Muslims and the tax on Hindu pilgrims. He married himself a girl of a noble Rajput family; later he married his son to a Rajput girl also; and he encouraged such mixed marriages. He appointed Rajput nobles to the highest posts in his Empire. Several of his bravest generals and most capable ministers and governors were Hindus. Raja Man Singh was even sent for a while as governor to Kabul. Indeed, in his attempts to conciliate the Rajputs and the Hindu masses, he went to such lengths that he was occasionally unjust to his Muslim subjects. He succeeded, however, in winning the good-will of the Hindus, and the Rajputs flocked to serve him and do him honour—nearly all, except one unbending figure, Rana Pratap Singh of Mewar. Rana Pratap refused to acknowledge Akbar’s suzerainty, even nominally. Beaten in battle, he preferred to live a hunted life in the jungle to pampered ease as Akbar’s vassal. All his life this proud Rajput fought the great Emperor of Delhi and refused to bow down to him. Towards the end of his days he even met with some success. The memory of this gallant Rajput is treasured in Rajputana, and many a legend has grown round his name.
So Akbar won over the Rajputs, and became very popular with the masses. He was indulgent to the Parsees and even to the Jesuit missionaries who came to his Court. But this indulgence and a certain disregard of Muslim observances made him unpopular with the Muslim nobles, and there were several revolts against him.
I have compared him to Ashoka, but do not be misled by this comparison. In many ways he was unlike him. He was very ambitious, and to the end of his days he was a conqueror, intent on extending his empire. The Jesuits tell us that he
possessed an alert and discerning mind; he was a man of sound judgment, prudent in affairs, and above all. kind, affable, and generous. With these qualities he combined the courage of those who undertake and carry out great enterprises . . . He was interested in, and curious to learn about many things, and possessed an intimate knowledge not only of military and political matters, but of many of the mechanical arts . . . the light of clemency and mildness shone forth from this prince, even upon those who offended against his own person. He seldom lost his temper. If he did so, he fell into a violent passion; but his wrath was never of long duration.
Remember that this description is not by a courtier, but by a stranger from another land who had plenty of opportunities to observe Akbar.
Physically, Akbar was extraordinarily strong and active, and he loved nothing better than hunting wild and dangerous animals. As a soldier he was brave to the point of recklessness. His amazing energy can be judged from a famous march of his from Agra to Ahmedabad in nine days. A revolt had broken out in Gujrat, and Akbar rushed with a little army across the desert of Rajputana, a distance of 450 miles. It was an extraordinary feat. There were no railways or motor cars then, I need hardly remind you.
But great men have something besides all these qualities: they have, it is said, a magnetism which draws people to them. Akbar had this personal magnetism and charm in abundant measure; his compelling eyes were, in the wonderful description of the Jesuits, “vibrant like the sea in sunshine”. Is it any wonder that this man should fascinate us still, and that his most royal and manly figure should tower high above the crowds of men who have been but kings?
As a conqueror, Akbar triumphed all over North India and even the So
uth. He added Gujrat, Bengal, Orissa, Kashmir and Sindh to his Empire. He was victorious in Central India and South India also and took tribute. His defeat of Rani Durgavati, a ruler in the Central Province, does him little credit. The Rani was a brave and good ruler and she did him no harm. But ambition and the desire for empire care little for such obstacles. In South India his armies fought another woman ruler, the famous Chand Bibi, regent of Ahmednagar. This lady had courage and ability, and the fight she put up impressed the Moghal army so much that they granted her a favourable peace. Unfortunately she was killed later by some discontented soldiers of her own.
Akbar’s armies also laid siege to Chittor—this was before Rana Pratap’s time. Chittor was defended very gallantly by Jaimal. On his death there was the terrible jauhar ceremony again, and Chittor fell.
Akbar managed to gather round himself many efficient lieutenants who were devoted to him. Chief among these were the two brothers, Faizi and Abul Fazl, and Birbal, about whom innumerable stories are still told. Todar Mal was his finance minister. It was he who revised the whole revenue system. In those days, you may be interested to know, there was no zamindari system and no zamindars or taluqdars. The State settled with the individual cultivators or ryots. It is what is called now the ryot-wari system. Present-day zamindars are the creation of the British.
Raja Man Singh of Jaipur was one of Akbar’s best generals. Another famous person in Akbar’s Court was Tansen, the great singer, who has become the patron saint of all singers in India.
Akbar’s capital was at Agra to begin with and he built the fort there. Then he built a new city at Fatehpur-Sikri, which is about fifteen miles from Agra. He chose this site as a saintly person, Shaikh Salim Chishti, lived there. Here he built a splendid city, “much greater than London”, according to an English traveller of the day, and for over fifteen years this was the capital of his Empire. Later he made Lahore his capital. “His Majesty”, says Abul-Fazl, the friend and minister of Akbar, “plans splendid edifices, and dresses the work of his mind and heart in the garment of stone and clay.” Fatehpur-Sikri still stands with its beautiful mosque and great Buland Darwaza and many other fine buildings. It is a deserted city and there is no life in it; but through its streets and across its wide courts the ghosts of a dead empire still seem to pass.
Our present city of Allahabad was also founded by Akbar, but of course the site is a most ancient one and Prayaga has flourished there since the days of the Ramayana. The fort at Allahabad was built by Akbar.
It must have been a busy life of conquest and consolidation of a vast empire. But right through it one can see another of Akbar’s remarkable traits. This was his boundless curiosity and his search for truth. Whoever could throw light on any subject was sent for and questioned. The men of different religions gathered round him in the Ibadat Khana, each hoping to convert this mighty monarch. They often quarrelled with each other, and Akbar sat by, listening to their arguments and putting many questions to them. He seems to have been convinced that truth was no monopoly of any religion or sect, and he proclaimed that his avowed principle was one of universal toleration in religion.
A historian of his reign, Badauni, who must have participated in many of these gatherings himself, gives an interesting account of Akbar, which I shall quote. Badauni himself was an orthodox Muslim, and he thoroughly disapproved of these activities of Akbar.
His Majesty [he says] collected the opinions of everyone, especially of such as were not Muslims, retaining whatever he approved of, and rejecting everything which was against his disposition and ran counter to his wishes. From his earliest childhood to his manhood, and from his manhood to old age, his Majesty has passed through the most various phases, and through all sorts of religious practices and sectarian beliefs, and has collected everything which people can find in books, with a talent of selection peculiar to him, and a spirit of enquiry opposed to every (Islamic) principle. Thus a faith based on some elementary principles traced itself on the mirror of his heart, and as a result of all the influences brought to bear on his Majesty, there grew, gradually as the outline on a stone, the conviction in his heart that there were sensible men in all religions, and abstemious thinkers, and men endowed with miraculous powers, among all nations. If some true knowledge was thus everywhere to be found, why should truth be confined to one religion?
At this time, you will remember, there was the most extraordinary intolerance in Europe in matters of religion. The Inquisition flourished in Spain and the Netherlands and elsewhere, and both Catholic and Calvinist thought tolerance of the other a deadly sin.
Year after year Akbar continued his religious talks and arguments with the professors of all faiths, till these professors got rather tired of it and gave up hope of converting him to their particular faith. When each faith had something of the truth, how could he fix upon one? “For the Gentiles”, he is reported by the Jesuits to have remarked, “regard their law as good; and so likewise do the Saracens and the Christians. To which, then, shall we give our adherence?” (By the Gentiles, the Jesuits meant the Hindus, and the Saracens referred, of course, to the Muslims. The Jesuit fathers, being Portuguese, knew the Saracens of Spain, and called the Indian Muslims by the same name.) Akbar’s question was a very pertinent one, but it annoyed the Jesuits, who say, in their book, that
thus we see in this Prince the common fault of the atheist, who refuses to make reason subservient to faith, and, accepting nothing as true which his feeble mind is unable to fathom, is content to submit to his own imperfect judgment matters transcending the highest limits of human understanding.
If this is the definition of an atheist, the more we have of them the better.
What Akbar was aiming at is not clear. Did he look upon the question purely as a political one? In his desire to evolve a common nationality did he want to force the different religions into one channel? Or was he religious in his motives and his quest? I do not know. But I am inclined to think that he was more of a statesman than a religious reformer. Whatever his object may have been, he actually proclaimed a new religion—the Din Ilahi—of which he himself was the head. In religion, as in other matters, his autocracy was to be unchallenged, and there was a lot of disgusting prostration and kissing the feet and the like. The new religion did not catch. All it did was to irritate the Muslims.
Akbar was the very essence of authoritarianism. And yet it is interesting to speculate what his reaction to politically liberal ideas might have been. If there was to be liberty of conscience, why not greater political freedom for the people? To science he would certainly have been greatly attracted. Unhappily, these ideas, which were beginning to trouble some people in Europe then, were not current in India at the time. Nor does there seem to have been any use of the printing-press, and education was thus very limited. Indeed, you will be amazed to learn that Akbar was illiterate—that is, he could not read or write! But none the less he was highly educated and was very fond of having books read to him. Under his orders many Sanskrit books were translated into Persian.
It is interesting to note that he issued orders forbidding the practice of sati by Hindu widows, and also the practice of making prisoners of war slaves.
Akbar died in October 1605 in his sixty-fourth year, after a reign of nearly fifty years. He lies buried in a beautiful mausoleum at Sikandra, near Agra.
In Akbar’s reign there flourished in northern India—mostly in Benares—a man whose name is known to every villager in the United Provinces. He is far better known there, and is more popular, than Akbar or any king can be. I refer to Tulsi Das, who wrote the Ramacharitmanas or the Ramayana in Hindi.
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The Decline and Fall of the Moghal Empire in India
September 9, 1932
I feel tempted to tell you something more of Akbar, but I must restrain myself. I cannot, however, resist giving you some more quotations from the accounts of the Portuguese missionaries. Their opinions are of far greater value than those of courtiers, and it is
well to remember that they were greatly disappointed in Akbar because he did not become a Christian. Still they say that
indeed he was a great king; for he knew that the good ruler is he who can command, simultaneously, the obedience, the respect, the love and the fear of his subjects. He was a prince beloved of all, firm with the great, kind to those of low estate, and just to all men, high and low, neighbour or stranger, Christian, Saracen or Gentile; so that every man believed that the king was on his side.
“At one time,” the Jesuits further tell us, “he would be deeply immersed in state affairs, or giving audience to his subjects, and the next moment he would be seen shearing camels, hewing stones, cutting wood, or hammering iron, and doing all with as much diligence as though engaged in his own particular vocation.” Powerful and autocratic monarch though he was, he did not think manual labour beneath his dignity, as some people seem to think today.
We are further told that
he ate sparingly, taking flesh only three or four months in the year . . . With great difficulty he spared three hours of the night for sleep . . . He had a wonderful memory. He knew the names of all his elephants, though he had many thousands of them, also the names of his horses, deer and even pigeons!
This amazing memory seems hardly credible, and there may be some exaggeration in the account. But that he had a wonderful mind there can be no doubt. “Though he could neither read nor write, he knew everything that took place in his kingdom.” And “his eagerness for knowledge” was such that he “tried to learn everything at once, like a hungry man trying to swallow his food at a single gulp”.
Such was Akbar. But he was the complete autocrat, and although he gave a large measure of security to the people, and reduced the burden of taxation on the peasantry, his mind was not directed to raising the general level by education and training. It was the age of autocracy everywhere, and compared to other autocratic monarchs he shines brilliantly as a king and a man.
Glimpses of World History Page 46