Ashoka the Great

by Keuning, Wytze

‘You have the wrong finger on the bow-string,’ Ashoka remarked.

  ‘Who are you?’

  It was Avalaka who replied: ‘Our commander is Prince Ashoka.’

  ‘Mahadeva Ashoka from the Rajputans?’

  ‘Yes.’

  All of them were greatly startled. They stepped back, confused, then threw themselves down onto the earth, stretching out their hands towards the Viceroy. Then the Bath, their priest, came forward; he understood the language of the Rajputans.

  ‘Sire, one of our Princes asked Drona, the greatest of archers and master of the Pandavas and the Kauravas, if he would consent to teach him archery. Drona refused. He claimed that the Bhils, who were left by the Aryans bereft of all their land and possessions, were robbers and cattle thieves. Disappointed, the son of the Raja returned home, carved for himself a statue of Drona, worshipped it, and became a great archer. And that happened to all Bhils who worshipped Drona. The Aryans complained about it at Drona’s. Drona asked the son of our Raja to take up a bow and shoot. When he saw that the Bhil was far superior to the Aryans, he ordered him to cut off the first finger of his right hand with a sword. The Prince threw himself onto the earth before Drona, ready to obey. The worship of the Bhils, however, placated Drona. He ordered the Prince to swear that he would never draw with his index finger, but always with the middle finger. Ever since those days, the Bhils draw their bows with their middle finger, Sire.’2

  ‘And do you shoot as well as that son of the Raja?’

  ‘Are we deserving of a place in your army, if we shoot as well as you, Sire?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Then give us a chance to prove it.’

  Ashoka had a target placed at a distance where he was just about certain of his shot. Then he took a bow, aimed, and shot the arrow right through the heart of the target. The Bhils came running forward with loud cries of surprise. They now looked for their best archer, trembled when he strung his bow and pulled, for they were convinced the Bhils were the best archers in the world. The Bhil’s arrow, however, landed just on the edge of the target.

  ‘Mahadeva Ashoka,’ they whispered. ‘Sire, the Bhils are the best horsemen of the world!’

  ‘Go and get your fastest horseman and decide the distance yourself.’

  One of the dark horsemen rode a good distance away, placed himself there, put up a pennant and waited. Ashoka chose his fastest horse and placed himself next to the rider of the Bhils. He felt a rush of his old fighting spirit.

  The horses started and raced ahead. The Bhils looked on in silence at the riders, now stretched out, racing forward. When they saw, however, that Ashoka had overtaken the Bhil who tried to spur on his horse by beating and kicking the animal, they became agitated; they stamped their feet and yelled with growing excitement. They saw how the waiting horseman lowered his pennant when Ashoka neared, jumped from his horse, then threw himself on the ground, his hands stretched out towards the Maurya. Ashoka rode at full speed in a wide circle around the devout Bhil and then raced back, without slackening his speed. Then he reined in and looked at his opponent, who had let himself slide down from his horse. The horse came galloping towards him but the Bhil ran away as fast as he could in the direction of the jungle. Ashoka sent out some riders to catch him. After a short fast ride, they returned with the Bhil.

  ‘Kill him, kill him!’ his tribesmen screamed, but Ashoka raised his hand, approached his opponent, and gave him a horse.

  ‘From now on this is your friend and one never beats one’s friends!’ Then he turned to the Bath and said: ‘Tell your chieftain, I cannot take his tribe into my army just yet. Send every caravan which crosses your territory to Ujjain. When I need you I shall call for you as my soldiers.’

  The chieftain agreed with the suggestion of the Viceroy and wished to acknowledge Ashoka’s supreme sovereignty, to which all the Bhils gave hearty approval. With much ceremony, the priest now made a small incision in the right thumb of the chief and with the blood he made the mark of a tilaka3 on the forehead of the viceroy.

  ‘As long as Mahadeva Ashoka lives, the Bhils will remain loyal to him, whatever may happen. We refuse to pay homage to the Brahmins; we give all our reverence to Raja Mahadeva Ashoka.’

  ‘Here is a man in the camp who wishes to speak to you.’ Ashoka let Chanayana come forth, which aroused great excitement amongst the Bhils. One of the dark riders tied him to his horse and then the troop raced away at full speed.

  ‘Hate … Sire … one does not cure with hate,’ Kullika warned seriously.

  ‘Do you wish that I should myself execute the sentence on the spy of my enemies, Kullika?’

  ‘Revata, Sire!’

  3

  THE MISTAKE

  ife in the south-western territory gradually grew in harmony with the vision of the Viceroy and his carefully selected officers. Prosperity was increasing, trade being guided in the right direction, the warehouses of the Maharajah filled, and earnings grew. Achala ruled over the ports wisely, with goodness and justice, just like his master. The goods stolen by Sarvilaka were sent to Ujjain along with a large caravan: lamp-stands from Sheba made of gold and silver, the most wonderful carpets from Bactria and Persia, cedar-wood cabinets in-laid with ivory and gem stones from Egypt, fantastic pearly-white sculptures from Macedonia, the most exquisite pearls from Sinhala, a choice of bracelets and anklets, necklaces, fine woven fabrics from Phoenicia, and many more precious goods.

  When Devi felt her pregnancy was nearing its completion the Raja’s family left for Vidisha. The birth had to take place in her maternal home. Moreover, Ashoka wished to investigate how far the work on the new road had progressed. It troubled him not having a speedy connection with the capital, if ever his presence was needed.

  A few days later, Sagka appeared, sent from Taxila by Prince Kala. Ashoka was startled.

  ‘You are here, Sagka? Has anything untoward happened?’

  ‘Sire, the ill-mannered soldiers of Prince Sumana cause a lot of discontent among the people of Taxila. The Viceroy and the Council always support the stand of the soldiers; the people are viewed as the damned. A few times the people took severe action against the rude warriors who were mocking their snake-rituals; they were heavily punished for that. Prince Kala pointed out to the Council the risks involved in such reprisals. The response was that the Viceroy would not tolerate the audacity of an accursed people, the way commander Ashoka did. Kala then reminded them of the peace, prosperity, and cordial relations that existed during Ashoka’s reign. The response was that this was possible only because heresy and unbridled behaviour of the Taxilans was tolerated. Some time later, when Prince Sumana and several officers were at Gopa’s and had drunk a lot they called Prince Kala the ‘chief commander of the black Dasyus’. A furious Prince Kala, in retaliation, called them ‘white boozers and womanisers’. The next day the Prince was summoned by the Viceroy: the Council had decided that all black Takkas were to be disbanded from the army and the soldiers of Ashoka combined with other army units. Kala’s reply was: ‘You have sealed your doom, O, King. Within a month, there will be an uprising of the northern peoples, and I would not be too certain of Taxila.’ They were so displeased with this remark that they imprisoned Prince Kala. The same night, however, he was freed by former soldiers of the army chief. The Takkas moved out from the city to the North. Prince Kala is hiding in Gopa’s house and waits for your orders, Sire.’

  Ashoka pondered for a long time.

  ‘Well, Sagka, Prince Kala will go to the north as my commander-in-chief. No uprising of the people. Always retreat when Sumana’s warriors are closing in. I do not wish the Takkas to be massacred, neither the soldiers of Pataliputra be avenged, because then a war in the north-west becomes inevitable. Vimalamitra has to attempt to calm the people of Taxila. What do you think, my Kullika?’

  ‘Sire, your advice is always wise and sound.’

  ‘My soldiers will need something from Shiva, Lord of Death, Kullika.’

  Kullika kept silent
.

  The next morning, Sagka left for Taxila and took with him the news that Devi had given birth to a healthy and sturdy boy who would be called Mahindra.

  Without pausing, like Surya on his journey around the earth, Ashoka proceeded along his path. Nothing escaped his sharp mind. When Ashoka was far from Achala’s thoughts, the Viceroy stood in front of the Government Palace in Bharuchkacha, in full knowledge of everything that was going on in the port. At other times, he criss-crossed the west to check on the intentions of the Bhils and the Rajputans, and on their progress in the art of warfare under the guidance of Jala.

  Well over a year after the day that Devi had given birth to a daughter too, Ashoka received an urgent message from Gopa.

  ‘The Council of Brahmins has decided to send a punitive expedition to the north. Prince Kala and Sagka are to be slain. The Takkas who do not contribute levies any more, will be punished harshly. Two Princes will be in command. Vimalamitra is dismissed as minister. There are rumours that Taxila will revolt as soon as a major part of the army departs.’

  ‘And Prince Sumana?’

  ‘Stays in Taxila, lives for his pleasures, drinks a lot and gambles more. The Brahmin council takes the decisions and lets the Viceroy pass on their orders.’

  Ashoka felt an inner conflict. Help Kala? Not possible. That would mean civil war and the only thing the Maharajah could do was to support Sumana. But not help Kala? Kala and Sagka could find refuge in the mountains of Darada1 and Kabul. Kala would certainly not forsake the Takkas. That would mean a fight unto death, in which they might lose, and the tribes around Pushkalanati2 would be at the mercy of the ruthless hordes of Sumana.

  ‘We will let the Bhils and Rajputans raid Pankanada … without conquests and plundering. Send alarming reports to Taxila. The army stays over there or will be sent to the south. Then both tribes can withdraw themselves safely into the desert.’

  ‘The Bhils will never leave the Punjab at rest, my Raja,’ Kullika spoke his thoughts aloud.

  ‘Jala will lead them.’

  ‘If they are caught and tortured, Sumana, and then the Maharajah, will know that you were behind it.’

  ‘It has to happen. Tomorrow I will go to the Bhils and the Rajputans.’

  Ashoka stayed for some time with Jala in order to train the Bhils and the Rajputans. Their admiration for Ashoka’s supreme skills made willing pupils of them. At last, he sent Jala with a small army to the Punjab, and he himself returned to Ujjain.

  Gopa’s next message came a few months later: ‘Campaign to the north recalled. Wild tribes in the southern Punjab fallen. Prince Sumana requests from the Maharajah considerable reinforcements of troops in the west.’

  Some time later, Ashoka received a message from Nata: ‘Secret meetings of the priests at the Brahmin-court. They want a strong army sent to Taxila. Were the Maharajah to fall ill again, Prince Sumana must be appointed as Crown Prince.’

  Ashoka realised that he had made a mistake. A large army out in the north-west under Sumana and the Brahmins! He had to speak to the Maharajah. He organised a caravan of thirty camels and twenty ox-carts to carry all the acquired treasures to his father. Using the new road he reached the capital speedily. He first informed Sela about his arrival and then hurried with many gifts to the ladies’ quarters to pay a visit to his mother and the other ranis. Mother Gopali received the most precious gift, a necklace from Sheba, made of precious gemstones in a setting of gold. The first Rani accepted it icily.

  ‘My Ashoka,’ mother Hara asked, ‘People say you have brought twenty ox-carts and thirty camels carrying precious objects to the Maharajah. Are the treasures growing on trees in Ujjain?’

  Ashoka laughed. ‘Labour and honesty fill the treasuries of the Maharajah, Mother Hara. I brought the most valuable objects to the Maharajah to make room for new ones.’

  ‘Then the army in Taxila can be paid with that. The rebellion grows and new troops are demanded.’

  ‘How fortunate,’ Jalini mocked, ‘that the Maharajah has such rich resources.’

  ‘Of course, it is no easy job to rule the cursed people of the west according to Brahmin laws,’ Gopali excused. ‘Bindusara knows whom to send there.’

  ‘What one can do with his eyes the other cannot do even with a big army,’ Samgati snapped back at her.

  ‘One does not become king because of his eyes or armies. The only one entitled to rule is the son of a wife of high lineage. A son of Samgati will never rule Aryavarta. That’s how the Vedas decree, it is the law of Manu,’ Gopali replied haughtily.

  ‘It is said that the gift to govern is to be read from the palm of the hand,’ Samgati responded, utterly calm. ‘Come here, Viceroy of Ujjain. Show mother Samgati your hand, my son.’ Samgati was a ravishing beauty and sharp-witted, but a Vaishya.

  ‘Unbelievable, my Raja, how rough this hand feels. If I were blind I would think that you were a dull, wild, brute … and that is what some people claim,’ she added, with her eyes on Gopali. ‘The lines of your hand indicate just the exact opposite. Look at this line of reason and wisdom … With you, my son, this is so strongly developed, that it even curves around the palm and appears on the back of your hand, look. And this one here is the line of goodness and compassion … it stretches out to your wrist! Who has ever seen this! It is crossing the line of reason high up and there it continues in two branches until the fore and middle finger. The other day, I saw the hand of a person who went on a military expedition.’ Once again she looked up at Gopali before continuing, ‘where they hardly reached up to the middle of the palm, whereas the weak line of reason and wisdom remained far below. Oh, and that line of Kama … how weak! No, the other hand had a better one: a strong deep line, crosswise across the palm. That is the worst hindrance to all rulers. No sovereign became great, my son, who squandered himself too much on women; no statesman unfolded his powers to its fullest flowering, who regarded in weak moments women as the most important. Remember, my son: Where the woman intervenes in affairs, reason succumbs and unreasonable sentiment and vanity will rule. And the most certain way to have all great undertakings fail is to forget what you have to do because of the demands of lust.’ She studied his palm again: ‘And then the line of justice … how beautiful, firm and noble is its curve! My son, your hand promises all fortune!’

  Gopali stood up, agitated. ‘Luckily, no lower woman in the harem determines who will govern, but the Maharajah, after consulting his wise Brahmins; do remember that!’ She wanted to leave the room.

  ‘You forget the gift the able Viceroy of Ujjain brought for you as a proof of his wise rule, my Gopali,’ Hara said while sneering.

  ‘Thank you, my Ashoka, I hope you may govern a long time yet in Ujjain and may collect great valuables and rule wisely; then every Maharajah would love to keep you there.’

  ‘Mother Gopali would love to tie you down over there,’ Hara mocked.

  Gopali did not react anymore. Later it was said that she went straight to the big lotus pond in the park and there furiously threw the precious necklace into the water, so that it sank deep into the sub-terrestrial empire of the Nagas. The Nagas placed it at the entrance to their dark dwellings, where Ashoka’s gift gave by its brilliance a golden glow to the dark waters around the lotuses, which never faded after that.

  While Ashoka was telling Subhadrangi about his beautiful young wife and his children in the far west, one of the female palace guards appeared and informed him that the Maharajah awaited him. The magician fanned the flames of the holy fires high, while an armoured guard of honour was placed all around. Khallataka and Sayana had each taken a seat next to the throne of the Maharajah.

  ‘What compels my brave and capable son to undertake a journey as far as Pataliputra? And will the affairs be handled well in Ujjain when the Viceroy is absent?’

  ‘Shiva sometimes ponders on Mount Meru, my Father. Why should He not serve me as an example, and let me reflect now and then on what I have done? I wished, in the first place, to bring you myself th
e valuable treasures I collected for you in Ujjain as income, and some as gifts to me personally. If it pleases you, I will show them to you.’

  Ashoka had the merchandise brought in and the three men were astounded at the riches that were paraded before their eyes.

  ‘My dear son seems to have set as his aim the execution of my orders with the greatest accuracy. That is why I was most surprised that he had sent warlike tribes to the south of the Punjab.’

  The three great men looked at Ashoka in keen anticipation, evidently observing what impact this remark made on the Prince. Not a trace of surprise was to be seen, however, at Bindusara’s knowledge of his secret deed in the West. With a most gentle smile, he responded:

  ‘I did not want the Viceroy of Taxila to undo all my work in Darada, and neither that the Takkas, who subjected themselves with such sincerity and so earnestly to the Maharajah of Aryavarta, should be victims because of the narrow-mindedness of Sumana or his council; neither did I want my greatest friend, Prince Kala, to be pursued and imprisoned by an army which, given its dissoluteness and misevaluation of the western people, would do nothing but bring harm to your authority which had only just been restored. I wished to thwart the army commanders, so that they would give up their silly plans of warfare. I gave strict orders to my friends not to harm anyone, nor start any conflict. But should you give in to the request of my brother—which means his council—to send a strong army, a war in the north-west would be unavoidable. And do you know what Antiochus of Syria will do in that case? What do you then desire, my beloved Father: that I once again proceed to Taxila to set right the mistakes of Sumana and his council? I have warned you. I know Taxila. You, yourself, certainly know the results of this dangerous experiment with your oldest son. Now, I have to warn you again, not to place large armies in the service of Sumana or his council.

  That is the second reason why I came to see you.

  You have been seriously ill, my Father; and, because of the sacrificial priests, great pressure is brought upon the Maharajah to appoint at last Sumana, about whom consistently good information was fed to you, as Crown Prince.’