SHOUNAK GHOSH, Research Scholar, Centre for Historical Studies, Jawaharlal Nehru University
Sixteenth century Asia represented a heavily contested political landscape with the establishment of the Safavid dynasty in Iran, the Uzbek Khanate at Bukhara and the Mughals in the Indo-Gangetic basin, alongside the existence of the two centuries old Ottoman Sultanate. A meticulous examination of the official correspondence between the respective heads of these states unravels the complex strands of their multilateral interactions. The Mughal response to the allegations by the Uzbeks regarding the heretical acts of Akbar in the final quarter of the sixteenth century, couched in diplomatic language by the ideologue Abū'l Fażl, raises certain problematics that constitute the subject of study here. Why was it necessary for Akbar to portray himself as a good Islamic ruler in order to establish his credibility? What were the politics of drafting missives and selecting envoys? What crucial role did the vocabulary of symbolism perform in negotiating the idea of Islam? Or were these engageme nts merely a façade beneath which Islam was subverted for political and material purposes? By addressing these questions, this paper attempts to complicate historical understandings of power contests of global significance in this period. It brings out the remarkable scribal skills of Abū'l Fażl that evince the astute diplomat in him. Simultaneously, an inquiry into the volatile relationship between religious ideology and statecraft highlights the tensions and dilem-mas between Mughal principles of governance and their policies of existential pragmatism during the early stages of their sovereignty.
Abdullah, king of Bukhárá, said that he was more afraid of Abū’l Fażl’s pen than of Akbar’s arrow.
— Āʾīn-i Akbarī, I, p. 11.
By a meticulous examination of Mughal diplomatic correspond dence with the Uzbeks and Safavids, this paper argues that the chief idea that conditioned Mughal policy regarding their northwestern frontier in the final quarter of the sixteenth century was the containment of any form of armed conflict. It seeks to highlight, through the pen of Abū’l Fażl, how this idea was put into practice and thereby demonstrates the efficacy of diplomacy in resolving volatile issues by means of verbal dialogues rather than military action. Simultaneously, a close reading of the letters drafted by Abū’l Fażl would reveal how power relations were articulated between political societies and the complex dialectics that transpired such exchanges. These texts also offer us a glimpse into the ideas that shaped Mughal practices of power both within and beyond their territorial realm. It thus casts Abū’l Fażl as an ideologue who was propagating a vision of state that was gradually unfolding under Akbar.
The set of communications between these potentates have excited considerable interest amongst South Asian historians, who have analyzed the matter mostly in terms of the bilateral and trilateral relations between the courts of Agra-Lahore, Bukhara, and Isfahan. In this essay, I intend to unravel the complex ideas pertaining to religious ideology and geopolitical concerns that shaped the diplomatic conduct of the Mughals. These ideas find profound expression in the tools and devices employed by Abū’l Fażl to drive forward Mughal interests. Diplomacy was a mechan ism to implement such ideas through which relations of hegemony, dominance, subordination, subservience between contending polities were transacted and defined. The texts circulating between courts and capitals can be interpreted as discourses of power. The implicit subtleties contained in these transactions determined how states perceived and interacted with each other. The following pages would also bring out how letters served as connecting threads between states, thereby creating a global network of dialogues.
The Rationale of Diplomatic Conduct
The spate of experiments in the fields of religion and governance that Akbar engaged in from the mid-1570s drew tremendous scorn from orthodox Muslim circles that saw it as his deviation from the path of faith.1 A good number of disgruntled theologians made their way to Bukhara and Turan, lying beyond the northwest frontier of the state, where they voiced bitter sentiments against what they presented as the ‘heretical practices’ of Akbar to the Uzbek monarch ‘Abdullāh Khan. The latter certainly must have raised a query regarding this through his emissaries to Akbar in March 1586. Akbar was thus faced with the tough challenge of justifying his conduct in the global sphere, for which he resorted to the skillful craftsmanship of Abū’l Fażl.
The reply drafted by Abū’l Fażl has to be examined in the larger context within which the politics of negotiations were being played out. The ibādatkhāna debates which commenced in 1575 and reached a climactic moment in 1579, drew a lot of scorn from Badauni, who launched a scathing critique on Akbar for his deviation from the path of faith.
...the Resurrection, and Judgment, and other details and tradi tions, of which the Prophet was the repository, he laid all aside. And he made his courtiers continually listen to those revilings and attacks against our pure and easy, bright and holy faith... and urged and excited them to his own path...2
Badauni’s ranting, bordering on sheer exaggeration, occupies a large part of his chronicle, as he presents a picture of the setting of the sun of Islam:
The prayers of the Islam, the fast, nay even the pilgrimage, were henceforth forbidden... every command and doctrine of the Islam, whether special or general, as the prophet-ship, the harmony of the Islam with reason, the doctrines of Rúyat, Taklíf, and Takwín... all were doubted and ridiculed... During those days also the public prayers, and the azán... were abolished.3
Badauni also miserably notes that owing to these abuses of Islam, many pious men left the country in disgust. Theologians such as Shaikh ‘Abd un-Nabí and Makhdúm-ul-mulk were either humiliated or banished from the kingdom. It seems that a good number of these people made their way to Bukhara and Turan, where they echoed the bitter sentiments voiced by Badauni to the Uzbek ruler, as the author of the Silsilat us-Salātin would have us to believe:
a group of saints and learned men being distressed by Akbar’s heresy arrived at ‘Abdullāh’s court and reported that, having been misled by certain mendicants, Akbar had adopted the religion of Metempsychosis (tanasukhia) and the behaviour of Jugis and had deviated from the religion of the Prophet.4
There must have been a query regarding this in ‘Abdullāh’s letters to Akbar, which brings us to the latter’s reply. Initially, Akbar had asked Ḥakīm Abu’l Fath, a noble who had immigrated from Gilan in July 1575 along with his two brothers—Ḥakīm Humam (whom we shall come across shortly) and Ḥakīm Nūr-ud-dīn—on account of Safavid persecu
tions of Sunnis, to draft a fitting response.5 The reason behind this choice
seems to have been that Abu’l Fath was an orthodox Sunni whose letters were invested with ‘the traditional Islamic aura’, with profuse quotations from the Quran, hadith and verses of eminent Persian poets.6 This style would have been apt in the circumstances and was expected to serve the purpose well. The draft prepared by him incidentally found its way to the inshā collection of Abū’l Fażl. Riazul Islam opines that it was a composite letter initially drafted by Abu’l Fath and later revised by Abū’l Fażl.7 However, the missive that was finally send to ‘Abdullāh was penned by the latter.8 A simultaneous reading of the contents of both the letters will clearly bring out the Mughal perspective on this matter.
Abu’l Fath’s draft is an elaborate rhetoric of defence in favour of Akbar. It refers to ‘groups of ill-intentioned persons’ who were ‘dis affected, distressed and expelled’ and had gone to Turan and presented ‘false things as true’ against Akbar. The draft dismisses such charges as ‘absurd’ and ‘baseless’ and expresses astonishment that ‘Abdullāh had paid heed to such ‘fabricated propaganda’. The narrative lambasts these people as ‘impudent deceivers and ill-natured destroyers who were... spreading improper and trifling rumours about Akbar because of their own perversity and faulty understanding’. It was hoped that these words from the pen of a learned Sunni who had faced oppression on sectarian grounds previously would inspire the confidence of the Khan. Repeated lamentation that ‘Abdullāh had stopped communication due to his belief in ‘such mischievous gossip by disgruntled and foolish persons’ was supposed to drive the defence further. Moreover, the assertion that a ‘sensible envoy’ or ‘some wise men’ should have been despatched to investigate the matter gives proof of Akbar’s ‘innocence’.9
The draft also touches upon an oft-deliberated and volatile theme in medieval history—the relationship between state and religion, between the monarch and the ulema. It hints at Akbar’s frustrations in his attempt to separate the temporal and sacral into distinct compartments. The disti nction is made clear in ‘the affairs of the two worlds of subsistence and resurrection’. Once again, he lashes out at the ignorant and malevolent theologians, who, out of their greed and self-conceit, stick to the literal meaning, misinterpret the word of God as communicated by His Prophet, and present the evidence in a different colour by expanding and analysing the facts in order to gain advantage for themselves, and to claim a share in the kingly business and sovereignty.10
There is also a subtle articulation of Akbar’s stand to be the fount of all authority in the realm, over and above the religious figures. The power that a monarch is vested with is strongly pursued:
According to both masters of traditional as well as rational understanding, rulers have been endowed with the largest share of the brilliant gem of wisdom and discriminatory power. The sovereigns possess the capacity for learning more than others, as the distribution of this talent is in proportion to the needs, and hence this group possesses the intellect and comprehension in abundance.11
The draft also advocates Akbar’s opinion that theologians and scholars, despite being well-versed in the tenets of religion, are below the king in hierarchy. The Pādshāh should keep the company of such wise men but even at the peak of their sagacity, they ‘could not claim equality with the
rulers in matters of insight, far-reaching intellect and wisdom’. Having made his stand on clerics explicit, Abu’l Fath proceeds to give a sincere and detailed account of the religious manoeuvrings of Akbar and his troubles with the dogmatic ulema who were always a hindrance in matters of administration. There is a straightforward explanation of his engagements in debates on theology which led to his cleft with thosefeigning to be pious and intellectual. As Mansura Haidar summarizes the narrative:
...since there had been a great deal of differences of opinion in practically every (religious) matter, he (Akbar) had sought for proof and justification regarding each argument in matters relating to knowledge and action. For a proper comprehension of the subtle intricacies of religious questions, he was examining the interpretations of the jurists, investigating; clarifying and evaluating the objectives of theologians and deducing the sources of the statements and the arguments, the beliefs of the past and present generations, and the many divergent views which had sprung up during the preceding millennium and whose details were available in various works.12
The pretentious nature of many jurists who claimed to hold superior status were exposed and they were put to shame:
These discussions resulted in the deterioration of the market (of such people) and a disfavour of those ignorant persons who were by hypocrisy appearing in the garb of intellectuals and had gained favours. The deliberations over these matters have brought into the limelight certain capable persons, who had till then remained in obscurity due to the depravity of the pseudo
theologians, who had acquired an important position among the people in the guise of wise men and had pushed these persons into the background. These foolish persons, having a superficial intelligence, [eventually]... became ignominious among all sections of people, and later they were humiliated and annihilated.13
The above summary captures the essence of the disputations at the ibādat khānā and the consequences that followed. It also states that the motive behind these sessions was purely Akbar’s quest for truth and his strive to surround himself with knowledgeable men. However, it is interesting to note that the above extracts did not constitute the text that was sent to ‘Abdullāh. Rather, Akbar demanded another letter to be drafted by Abū’l Fażl. The missive is testimony to the remarkable scribal skills of Abū’l Fażl, who did not get into any lengthy explanations and brushed aside all allegations with one stroke:
We consider, however, that lengthy discourse about these things is unfitting, and so content ourselves with this verse which has been written concerning glorious ones of the Faith.
Verse.
Of God, people have said that He had a son; of the Prophet they have said that he was a sorcerer.
Neither God nor the Prophet has escaped the slander of men. Much less I!14
The reticent attitude of the Mughals, expressed in the words ‘silence is better than speech in such matters’, was meant to leave no scope for further questioning. The draft prepared by Abū’l Fath, which incidentally found its way to the inshā collection of Abū’l Fażl, is an elaborate rhetoric of defence in favour of Akbar.15 The exclusion of those sections of Abū’l Fath’s draft, denouncing the theologians and justifying Akbar’s actions, was a calculated measure driven by a number of factors. To begin with, the passages were in the form of an apologia from Akbar who was anxious to cleanse the blotch on his image by heaping all the blame on the ‘frustrated’ religious groups. This would not have seemed accept able to Akbar at a time when he was contending for supremacy with the other monarchs of the Islamic world. Akbar certainly did not wish to be perceived as the prototype of a subordinate in his power relations with the Uzbek ruler.
Secondly, Akbar’s council of advisors must not have considered it wise to display deep resentment against dogmatic clerics to a ruler who was being counselled by them. There was a perception in Mughal circles that a presentation of the true state of affairs might seem offensive to the Uzbeks, who certainly would not have shared Akbar’s enthusiasm about having theological discourses with Brahmins and Catholics. Relations having been strained with the Ottomans, over issues of hajj and claim to the khilāfat in the early 1580s, the Mughals were careful not to embitter the Khanate at Bukhara. It was also apprehended that the boundary bet ween dīndārī and dunyādārī that Akbar was trying to draw would not be taken well in a kingdom where political attitudes did not usually toe on non-sectarian lines. Given the perpetually precarious situation at the Mughal northwest frontier, ‘Abdullāh might have taken up the insult on faith as an excuse to open hostilities. Hence, it was considered best not to delve deep into this issue.
Given these considerations, it is difficult to agree with Mansura Haidar’s opinion that the exclusion was probably done ‘to ensure that under the sway of these unpleasant deliberations and religious discourses, the focus is not removed from major political issues affecting mutual interests’.16 The importance of the religious angle in interpreting such transactions and their implications on political matters cannot be under
mined. In fact, the justification was the product of a fear on the part of the Mughals that by using common sectarian grounds, ‘Abdullāh might gravitate towards the Sultan of Cairo and wage a ‘holy war’ against them in conjunction with him. These tensions were satisfactorily handled by the composition of Abū’l Fażl, which completely diverts attention to the ideological basis of the Mughal state that was coming into being under the enigmatic personality of Akbar.
The ‘Ideal’ Monarch and his Ideas of State
After the usual introductory formulas and flamboyant praises on ‘Abdullāh, the letter infuses a tone of warmth as it acknowledges the receipt of messages from him which were ‘much appreciated’ and had ‘greatly rejoiced’ the Mughal court. Hereafter the letter directly proceeds to its purpose. Abū’l Fażl refers to Akbar as a ‘suppliant at the gate of the unconditioned (beniyāz) One’ who has reigned for three decades now by ‘Heaven’s aid’. From the beginning then, there is a conscious attempt to portray Akbar as one who was a recipient of divine favours. Akbar was a righteous and just ruler who had eschewed mortal avarices:
...all this autocracy and world-rule, all this sword-bearing and clime-conquering, are for the purpose of shepherding, and for doing the work of watch and ward; not for the amassing of treasures of gold and silver, or for decorating the throne and diadem, or for letting one’s feet halt in the mud of transitory pleasures, or for sinking the head into the collar of unstable desires.17
The spectacle of Mughal state formation is expressed in the loftiest of words:
There hath been a constant stirring towards the soothment of mortals, whether high or low, and for graciousness to men of the age, whether anear or afar. God knows that the cleansing of the four dāngs of India, and the sweeping away of the weeds and rubbish from this garden, which is bounded on three sides by the ocean, did not proceed from self-will and self
indulgence, and that we had no object except to be kind to mortals, and to obliterate the oppressors.18
Akbar is thus portrayed as a benevolent ruler whose principal instruments of control were favours and affection. In tune with the rhetoric of religion, the realm of Akbar is hailed as ‘the Sulṭanat which is yoked with auspiciousness’ and the evidence of being true to the faith is cited as the main idea behind Mughal expansionism:
the straight path of religion and faith, and the right road of truth and certainty have been the desire of our eyes... in accordance with the saying that rule and faith are twins, the elevation of the degrees of august sovereignty, and the uprearing of the stand
ards of daily-increasing fortune are a full and satisfactory proof of our observance of the Faith.19
The response to ‘Abdullāh’s charges of Akbar being heterodox in his outlook is not concealed in a justification of the latter’s acts but guised in the fabric of Mughal expansionism. In fact, Abū’l Fażl’s state ments can also be read as a display of the success of Mughal arms and the glory it brought to the state, a common feature of Indo-Persian diplomatic correspondence of the time, usually done to impress upon the reader the strength of the state apparatuses. The next few lines bear the essence of the normative ideals spelt out in akhlāq literature which emphasizes on justice (adl) as the chief trait that every ruler should possess:
And as the sum total of the desires of just princes, who sit on the thrones of greatness, is that all mankind and every creature, who are the wondrous deposits of the Almighty, should abide in peace and tranquillity, and should strive strenuously in obeying God, and in the ways of a well-intentioned life, we have during this time striven for the arrangement and ordering of these extensive dominions, which were the seats of so many great sovereigns and rulers, and have by God’s favour, which attends this suppliant at the Divine gate, obtained full repose by the management of these countries.20
The emphasis is reiterated in the raison d’être of the Mughals, which lay in
promulgating the laws of kindness, the laying the foundations of justice, the spreading of the lights of benevolence, and the irrigating of the gardens of men’s hopes and peace, with ooz- ings from the clouds of graciousness, and beneficence, so that they may be kept fresh and verdant.21
From here Abū’l Fażl goes a step forward and paints Akbar in the typical attire of an Islamic conqueror, quite contrary to the kind of narra tives of imperial ideology that were being produced by the Mughal state within its domain for the consumption by its subject populace:
Places which from the time of rise of the sun of Islam till the present day had not been trod by the horse-hoofs of world conquering princes and where their swords had never flashed, have become the dwelling-places and the homes of the faithful. The churches and temples of the infidels and heretics have become mosques and holy shrines for the masters of orthodoxy. God be praised! What we wished for has been accomplished, and arrangements have been made in accordance with our desires. All the leaders and stiff-necked ones of the hosts of Hindus and others, have placed the rings of obedience in their ears and been enrolled among the victorious armies.22
The attitude of jihād is extended to the Portuguese as well, as Akbar announces that the next task on his agenda was to dispel them from the Indian Ocean and thereby ensure safety to the ‘pilgrims and traders’.23
The Politics of Diplomatic Negotiation
Having steered clear of the controversy surrounding Akbar’s heterodoxy, Abū’l Fażl now addresses the questions of geopolitical importance. It is imperative to pause here for a while and briefly discuss the major points raised by ‘Abdullāh. Hāfiz Tanish, the official chronicler of the ruler of Turan, writes that in 1586, a trusted noble Amīr Quresh, was deputed as an envoy to the Mughal court with the object to seek an alliance against the Safavids who had lately been causing much trouble:
The Persians had been occupying the wilayats of Iran for a long time and were practising tyranny, creating commotion and committing sins. Having given up the sunni religion, they had deviated from the laws of the prophet and were heading towards utter confusion and destruction.24
The ‘Abdullāh Nāmā also states that the ambassador was to lay before Akbar the contemplated Uzbek campaign in Khurāsān to subjugate the ‘heretic Shias’ who were hindering pilgrimage movements to Mecca and Medina.25 In the eyes of the faithful then, ‘the extermination of such a group’ was an obligation, which the Uzbek ruler sought to undertake ‘early in spring’, now that ‘circumstances were favourable’ and ‘there were no external factors to obstruct the plan’. It was expected of the Mughal ruler to ‘extend material or moral support in this venture’ and certainly not provide refuge ‘to those who fled from our sword to your side’.26 The event finds mention in the Muntakhab that in the year 992 [1584]:
representations arrived from Mīrzá Muḥammad Ḥakím to the effect, that Badakhshán had entirely fallen into the power of Abd-ulláh Khán Uzbek... and that Mīrzá Sháhrukh had fought with the Uzbek, and being defeated by him... both of them [Mīrzá Sulaimán] fled for refuge to Hindústán.27
Badauni further records that Mān Singh had received the Mirzā with all courtesies on the banks of the Indus and that Akbar was pleased with the hospitality shown.28 In fact, according to the author of the Rauzat-ut Tahīrin, this was precisely the cause behind the embassy from ‘Abdullāh who wished to inform Akbar that he was compelled to quell the disturb
ances caused by Mirzā Shāhrukh on his villages.29
Figure 1
Map showing a large part of Asia and the geographical domains of the Mughals, the Safavids and the Uzbeks30
The correspondence otherwise infused with disputes stemming from sectarian differences was actually a veil beneath which the triangu lar contest between the Mughals, Uzbeks and Safavids with regard to Transoxiana was being negotiated. The geopolitical factors leading to the build-up of this situation have been accurately explained by Riazul Islam, who aptly points out that Akbar wanted to avoid the Uzbeks gaining control over Khurāsān at the expense of Safavid Iran. The Uzbek take over of Balkh and Badakhshán in two consecutive years (1583-84) prior to this communication served as a catalyst to this strand of thought. This would have placed his long-term plans of acquiring Qāndahār into difficulties and indeed posed a threat to the Mughal northwest frontier.31 The Mughal response to the Uzbek proposal comes as quite an antithesis:
But as we heard that some of the officers of Persia had proved disloyal to their sovereign, and had cast away the firm handle of fidelity—which had been the means of their exaltation—and had committed various improprieties, it passed into our mind that we should appoint to that region one of our sons... and not undertake any other work until that was disposed of. At present when the Sulṭān of Turkey, regarding the treaties and agree
ments made by his father and grandfather as non-existent, has looked to the ostensibly feeble condition of Persia, and has, several times, sent his troops there, we shall, passing over the circumstance of the deviation from the highway of Sunnism (sunnut-u-jamā’at) and looking only to the relationship (of that dynasty) with the family of the Prophet, proceed thither and help them.32
The reference is to the tumultuous political condition of Safavid Iran, which had not quietened down even after a decade following the death of Shah Tahmasp (r. 1524-76).33 In order to prevent an upturn in the balance of powers in the region that would not have been congenial to the Mughals, Abū’l Fażl advances an argument deftly wrapped in sectarian differentiation. The Sayyid lineage of the Safavids is given preference over the commonality of Sunni identity between the Uzbeks and the Mughals. There were also certain ethics that the conduct of external affairs demanded:
ancient things should be borne in mind, especially at this time when, as we hear, the ruler of Persia has dispatched able men of that country (to us) with presents, and with a prayer for help.34
Apart from the fact that the Safavids appealed to Akbar for assistance, the Mughal debt to the dynasty is acknowledged.35 Akbar’s refusal to comply with ‘Abdullāh’s request echoes a similar stance he took a decade ago on the same topic. The event is noted by Badauni in his history:
In this year (987) an ambassador of ‘Abdulláh Khán Uzbek came from Transoxiana with a letter containing assurances of friendship. The Emperor sent Mírzá Fúlád Barlás, with Khwá jah Khaṭíb, who was a native of Bokhárá, to accompany him with presents and gifts. And the seal of the letter was as follows:—
When we are friends with one another,
Sea and land are free from confusion and evil.36
However, Badauni does not give any more details about this incident. The Akbarnāmā fills this gap on the purpose of the mission, carrying the message:
that the world-conquering sovereign [Akbar] should make an expedition from India to Persia in order that they might by united efforts release ‘Irāq, Khurāsān and Fārs from the throne occupant thereof.37
Akbar turned down the proposition because:
...the dynasty in question was specially connected with the family of the Prophet, and that on this account he could not regard a difference in law and religion as a ground for conquest. He was also withheld from such an enterprise by old and valued friendships.38
Returning to the proceedings of 1586, Abū’l Fażl in conformity with Akbar’s image as a good Muslim, suggested that the ‘two chosen ones of God’ (Akbar and ‘Abdullāh) should engage ‘in sociability and spiritual intercourse’ by meeting in person at Khurāsān, where:
By oral communications, without the intervention of couriers and messages, the foundations of love and unity may be made stronger, and various heartfelt words, and secrets allied to truths, which are concealed in our hearts, and also matters of theology and observance of the truth may be mentioned in the
friendly meeting, and we may also hear the refined subtleties in the matters of Divine knowledge which have cast their rays on the soul of that workshop of magnificence (‘Abdullāh).39
Abū’l Fażl shrewdly floats the prospect of a religious dialogue as an incentive for ‘Abdullāh to change his mind from his plans of aggrandi- semnt on Persia. Though the sincerity of this prospect from the Mughal side cannot be ascertained, the deft use of religious sentiments to sharpen the edges of diplomacy merits attention. Ḥakīm Humam was entrusted as the return envoy accompanying Mīr Quresh to the Uzbek court. Characte
ristic of diplomatic procedures in the medieval age, the good offices of the ambassador and his close relation with the monarch were stated:
we are sending the wise and loyal Ḥakīm Humām, who is a sincere speaker of truth and a rightly-acting disciple. From the beginning of his service he has been in close attendance on us, and we never had the thought of sending him away. When such has been his relationship to us that he has made suggestions to us without the intervention of anyone else, if similar treatment be accorded to him in your noble audiences, it will be as if we and you were conversing directly with one another.40
A sense of goodwill runs throughout the letter, which ends with the hope, ‘May we always continue to interchange letters and presents’.41 The whole text can be read as an act of pacification, intended to exert a check on ‘Abdullāh whose power was on the ascendant. By withholding him from hatching an alliance with the Ottomans and attacking Iran, Akbar was only trying to press the brakes on a process, which he did not deem pragmatic to do by deploying his military machine.
A Decade Later
The next piece of communication came from the Mughal court ten years later. The immediate political context was the Mughal conquest of Qāndahār in 1595.42 Since Qāndahār was a perpetual bone of conten tion between the Mughals, Uzbeks and the Safavids, Akbar was anxious to avoid any unpleasant reaction following his victory that might upturn his long-cherished dream. The letter with its repeated harping on ‘Love and Harmony’, ‘the exposition of the ways of peace, and the demonstrat- ion of the rights of friendship’ brings out Akbar’s anxieties in this regard. Categorizing his relationship with the Uzbek ruler as that of ‘brother hood’, Akbar insists on ‘mutually exerting ourselves to strengthen the
foundations of Peace, and to purify the fountains of concord’.43 The missive asserts that the inspiration behind the Mughal ‘righteous practice’ was ‘to follow the path of amity’ and draws ‘Abdullāh’s ‘attention to instances of such conduct’. To begin with, Abū’l Fażl refers to the arrival of the Safavid envoy Yādgār Sultān Shāmlū, whom ‘the ruler of Īrān, relying upon former ties, sent... to us and asked for help, (but) we did not consent’.44 The assistance sought for was against the Uzbek occupation of a greater portion of Khurāsān. Abū’l Fażl quickly passes over to the next example:
Also, when Shāhrukh Mirza petitioned that he might have a fief in Kābul, or Kashmīr, or Sawād, Bajaur and Tīrāh... we did not grant his request, having taken into consideration the proximity (of ‘Abdullah), but gave him a fief in the province of Mālwa.45
Mirzā Shāhrukh, who had taken shelter in the Mughal court following ‘Abdullāh’s conquest of Badakhshán in 1585, was a potential threat to Uzbek possessions and his activities had become a constant source of irritation for them.46 This was the final point of the earlier missive, where his untoward actions were duly noted by Akbar:
he, on account of youth, self-conceit, and bad companionship, has exhibited so many improper actions... In the first place, on account of the promptings of some short-sighted persons, he has many times failed on obedience to ourselves. Secondly, he has not behaved to your noble self in a becoming manner. Thirdly, he has behaved in such an improper manner to his venerable grandfather, who had so many spiritual and material claims upon him.47
The letter also contained a plea to grant him forgiveness:
Now that he has... turned towards the strong handle of our graciousness, we cannot be otherwise than kind and forgiving to him. We hope that, in accordance with your noble nature, you will overlook his transgressions.48
In response to the ‘cloud on your [‘Abdullāh’s] heart with reference to the matter of Shāhrukh M.’, the tone (in the present letter) was similar, for it is stated that for ‘the dust of rivalry’ caused by ‘his (Shāhrukh’s) youth and ignorance’ to settle ‘in the souls of great rulers’, they should be ‘obliterated by the waters of pardon’. The explanations given for housing him are no different from what was written before:
He by his self-will had committed faults against our family, and in retribution therefore became a bewildered one in the desert of exile. When he took refuge with us, and signs of repentance were visible on his forehead we passed over (his offences)... the coming of Shāhrukh M. and the sons of Muḥammad Ḥakīm to our court are merely instances of our love for the noble family.49
The implicit message that Akbar was trying to convey through the afore cited couple of examples was that he had in his capacity to create troubles for the Uzbek ruler. Opportunities had presented themselves at his door but he had been ethical enough not to make undue use of them. The other two instances were also meant to indicate that Akbar had taken care to avoid any kind of friction between himself and the Uzbeks:
We summoned the Mírzās of Qandahār to court and committed the charge of that country—which belonged from of old to the imperial territories—to old servants of ours, lest the Tūrān troops should attack that quarter under the idea that it appertained to Persia, and also that there might be a great commingling of your territories and ours.50
Figure 2
The Reception for the Ambassador of the Grand Moghul at the Court of the Shah Tahmasp, 1573-7651
Akbar had thus shown respect for mutually defined territorial boundaries and eliminated any reason for misunderstanding. And finally,
...a wicked vagabond raised the head of disturbance in the hill country of Badakhshān and claimed to be the son of Shāhrukh M. and was joined by the landholders there. Though he sent petitions and asked for help, we did not attend to him, and at last he became a vagabond in the desert of ruin.52
Abū’l Fażl, with all his powers of conviction, demonstrates that on every such occasion Akbar had displayed the comportment that was the hallmark of a righteous monarch. The motive behind raising all these events was to divert the Khan’s attention from the actual happening, which was the takeover of Qāndahār by the Mughal army. Moreover, there had been some degree of violence associated with this episode, which would have surely not surpassed the notice of the Uzbeks. As Badauni notes:
Sháh Beg Khán fought a battle at Zamín Dáwar with a great army of the Uzbeks, and defeated them. He slew most of their leaders, and to those whom the sword spared, he gave dresses of honour and released them. Another body of them fled to a fortress, and were besieged there. He bombarded the fortress and took it by storm. Then he continued his advance and took the Garmsír.53
The prime concern in Mughal bureaucratic circles at this time seems to have been to cover up these acts with assurances of peace and friendship.
The glorious compacts and agreements—which have been ratified by skilful ambassadors, one after the other, are fixed in our mind. In the code of Islam and the rules of generosity one hundredth part of them would be sufficient for making per manent the pillars of friendship and concord, and still more in the case of the liberal and the choosers of truth... Every assistance that is due from friendship shall be shown (by us), so that praiseworthy endeavours may be manifested.54
The focus on these rather minor incidents was thus meant to overshadow the major one. Yet again, like he had done in the previous letter, the talented scribe employs a device that would enhance the spirit of ‘broth erhood’ between the two dynasts:
let a place be fixed and let us there have a feast of concord, and let us there discuss, without the intervention of any go-between, matters of religion and state, and things temporal and spiritu al!55
The Changing Dynamics of Power
Many of the instruments of argumentation and persuasion used by Abū’l Fażl in these letters find resonance in Akbar’s response to the first embassy from the Safavid ruler, Shāh ‘Abbās I in 1591, with the intent ion of reopening correspondence between Iran and India after a long gap. After the traditional opening with an array of elaborate titles, the veteran Mughal diplomat immediately answers the charge ‘about the delay in writing letters of affection’:
you must have heard from comers and goers what great affairs, and continued wars, have occurred to us against the princes of India, which has been reckoned by geometricians as four-sixths of the seven climes. During this long period, this vast country which was shared among so many independent chiefs and martial rulers has by the Divine aid been conquered by the imperial servants. From the mountains of the Hindu Koh to the shores of the ocean all the rebels and stiff-necked ones of three directions—strongfisted rulers and arrogant rajahs, shortsighted Afghan mountaineers, swiftly-careering, desert-dwelling Balūcīs and other fortress-dwellers and landowners—have, one and all, come into the shade of obedience, and the tribes of mankind have enjoyed equability in concord. By the Divine aid that which was revolving in our truth-choosing soul has become accomplished fact.56
The Mughal inability to maintain regular contact with the Shahs of Iran is couched in the exalted language of their preoccupation in building a kingdom. In tune with the style of Mughal epistolography, ‘Divine favour’ and justice could never be separated from victory. Hence, ‘the deliverance of the inhabitants of the heart-rejoicing country of Kashmīr from the hands of villainous tyrants’ was achieved ‘by the support of the spirits of the holy Imāms’ and ‘the standards of justice’ established.57 It is interesting to note the use of religious terminology here. Keeping in mind that the addressees here were the Safavids, who were adherents of the Shi’i form of Islam, Abū’l Fażl displays extra ordinary wit in stating that the fount of blessings was the Imām.58
Following the incorporation of Kashmīr into the expanding state, the Mughal army cleared the marches to the northwest of all those elements that were ‘a stone of stumbling to travellers to Tūrān’ and ‘a thorn in the path of Persian travellers were chastised and punished’.59
Tajiks, Uzbeks, Khurasanis, Afghans, Hazaras, Barkis, Imaqis and Multanis were the principal carriers of the trade between India and the regions beyond its northwestern frontier. Textiles, horses and slaves were the chief commodities of the trade. Other items included spices, sugar, indigo, dry fruits, drugs and precious stones. Muzaffar Alam argues that the protection of the land route across the major entrepots such as Lāhore, Multan, Kābul and Qāndahār was essential for the upkeep of this trade that fed the economies of these regions. Hence, the rulers from north India to Central Asia, notwithstanding their political rivalries, were keen to ensure safety and security to the travellers.60 Akbar’s painstaking efforts in this direction is brought out in his act of subjugating Mirzā Jānī Beg, the ruler of Sīwistān, Thatta and Sind, whose rebellion against the Mughal authority there had resulted in the route to ‘Irāq and Khurāsan becoming closed. After bringing him to submission, Akbar could anno unce with ease and satisfaction that the ‘route to ‘Irāq has thus become shorter and safer than before.’61
The letter was written at a time when the Mughal forces under Abdur Rahim were making inroads into Qāndahār. Within a span of less than a year (1593-4), both Rustam Mirzā and Muzaffar Husain Mirzā, sons of the later Sultān Husain Mirzā Safavi, had succumbed to the pressure and taken up service under the Mughals.62
...Rustum M. arrived, and the province of Multan—which is several times larger than Qandahar—was conferred on him. And Muzaffar Ḥusain M. on hearing of our benignities sent his mother and his eldest son, and meditated coming in person. After his arrival the victorious army will proceed to
Qandahār...63
The sensitivity of the issue required a politically correct account that would not invite any kind of remonstrance from the Safavids. True to his genius, Abū’l Fażl lived up to the expectation:
the Mīrzās [Rustam Mīrzā and Muzaffar Husain Mīrzā, sons of the later Sultan Husain Mīrzā Safavi] there showed slackness in assisting the sublime family, and on the occurrence of accidents and misfortunes—which is the time for testing the jewel of fidelity—they did not at all show marks of concord and unanimity. Nor did they repair to our sublime asylum, which is the native land of the masters of delight and ease. It therefore occurred to us that we should in the first place make over Qandahar to our own people.64
The Mirzās had allegedly failed in their task of assisting Shāh ‘Abbās when he was faced with numerous difficulties and hence, their place was being taken up by ‘our victorious troops [who] would... perform every act of assistance that that darling of the Sultanate might
desire.’65 The annexation of Qāndahār should therefore be seen by the Safavids as nothing more than an endeavour by the Mughals to render ‘every kind of help’ to them.
Figure 3
This illustration to the Akbarnāmā is a double page designed by the Mughal court artist La’l66
Figure 4
An illustration from the Akbarnāmā, c. 160567
At this time when the Panjab was the seat of government our firm intention had been to uprear the sublime standards towards Transoxiana which was the country of our ancestors, so that [the] country [might] come into the possession of the imperial servants, and also that the family of the prophets might be assisted in a suitable manner.68
The assurance is made more convincing by reinforcing the oft-quoted Mughal ‘principle’ that:
As in the rules of sovereignty and the religion of humanity, concord is preferable to opposition and peace better than war, and especially as it has been our disposition from the beginning of our attaining discretion to this day not to pay attention to differences of religion...69
Having made his ‘noble’ intentions abundantly clear, Abū’l Fażl resorts to the same technique he had used in turning down the suggestion of a joint invasion by ‘Abdullāh Khān Uzbek against Persia:
Meanwhile the asylum of benevolence ‘Abdullah Khan the ruler of Tūrān sent, time after time, loving letters referring to ancient relationships, and confirmatory of affection, by the instrumentality of skilful ambassadors, and thereby set in motion the chain of concord and devotion and laid the founda
tion of affection. As to go to war with one who is disposed to be peaceable is contrary to the Divine decrees and is disapproved of in the balance of lofty reason, our head turned away from this project.70
Akbar declares his cordial relations with the Uzbek ruler as not only an excuse of not engaging him in the battlefield but also as a hint that such an union, if needed, would be detrimental to Safavid interests. Given the intricacies of calculations in Mughal foreign policy making that emerges from a study of these documents in diplomacy, Riazul Islam’s inference does not hold good:
...the real cause for the negative decision on the aid to Persia was that Akbar’s understandings with ‘Abdullah Khan on the question of mutual frontiers and respective zones of special interests still held good...71
The texts clearly reveal that Akbar was not keen to invest heavily in military resources or enter into any form of alliance or hostility with either of the potentates. His sole idea seems to have been to prevent any kind of conflict and keep all potential rivals in good humour in order to attain his objective. By a curious mixture of friendly gestures and veiled threats, Akbar wanted to entrench Mughal power firmly in Qāndahār.
Abiding by the established norms of correspondence, the letter concludes with a short description of the envoy and presents:
We send Zīyā-al-Mulk who is the essence of trustworthiness and devotion, and have confided to him some loving express ions which he will communicate to you in private. He will also ascertain the state of affairs in Persia and report to us. Some rarities of this country have been entrusted to Khwāja Abū Nāṣir.72
Another intriguing facet of this letter was the way Akbar chose to define power relations with Shāh ‘Abbās, who had recently ascended the throne and was still very young. Citing the turbulent state of affairs from which Persia had just recovered, Akbar lays down an elaborate prescrip
tive note on how the ruler should conduct himself and stresses upon the fact that he should follow a policy of tolerance.73 The image of the Shāh being a subordinate to the Mughal Pādshāh finds profound expression in the Akbarnāmā which records ‘the arrival of the Persian ambassadors’ at the Mughal court at Lāhore in 1598. The chronicler emphatically writes that:
It was reported that when Ẕīya-al-Mulk, and Abū Nāṣir arrived there [at the Safavid court], Shāh ‘Abbās behaved like a dutiful child and made the Shāhinshāh’s slipper—which the ambassad ors had with them—the diadem of good fortune. He accepted the regulations (dastūrnāma) of the world’s commander and gathered bliss by acting in accordance therewith.74
The metaphor of father-son, a familiar and widely used dice in medieval diplomacy, is invoked here where Akbar is presented as a paternal figure and Shah ‘Abbās, as an obedient son. This idyllic scheme placed the Mughal monarch on an elevated pedestal in the hierarchy of relations.
The above paper suggests that diplomacy was a vital instrument of statecraft practised by medieval polities, particularly on occasions where either armed force could not be effectively used or warfare was not the viable solution. The constantly shifting balance of power in the region lying to the northwest of the Indian subcontinent, particularly Qāndahār, dictated that the financial and military resources of the Mughal state could not be put at stake. This presented a zone of overlapping interests where the ambitions of the Safavids, Uzbeks and Mughals seemed to collide. The imminent possibility of an alliance between the Uzbeks and the Ottomans—with whom the Mughals under Akbar did not enjoy a cordial relation—loomed large, which, if materialized would have spelt trouble for them. The idea here was to exercise caution and restrain which could be achieved only through diplomacy. Both before and after the conquest of Qandahar, Akbar was careful not to upset any of his potential rivals and took all measures to keep them at bay. Mughal practices of power in the external domain came to be fashioned on the ideas laid down by Abū’l Fażl through these missives. The aforecited extracts also contain an implicit assertion of Mughal imperial ideology and advocate a vociferous defence of Akbar’s policies of governance that was meant to uphold his image as an upright monarch.
Bibliography
Primary Sources
Allāmī, Abū’l Fażl. 2010. Akbarnama, translated by Henry Beveridge, 3 vols, Delhi, Low Price Publications.
__________. 1998. Mukatabat-i-Allami (Insha’i Abu’l Fażl) Daftar I, translated by Mansura Haidar as Letters of the Emperor Akbar, New Delhi, Munshiram Manoharlal.
Badā’ūnī, ‘Abd al-Qādir. 1986. Muntakhabu-t Tawarikh, translated by W. H. Lowe, 3 vols, Delhi, Renaissance Publishing House.
Islam, Riazul. 1982. A Calendar of Documents on Indo-Persian Relations (1500-1750) 2 vols, Teheran and Karachi, Iran Culture Foundation.
Secondary Sources
Alam, Muzaffar. 1994. “Trade, State Policy and Regional Change: Aspects of Mughal-Uzbek Commercial Relations, C. 1550-1750”, Journal of the Economic and Social History of the Orient, Vol. 37, No. 3, pp. 202-227.
Haidar, Mansura. 1982. “Relations of Abdullah Khan Uzbeg with Akbar”, Cahiers du Monde Russe et Soviétique, Vol. 23, No. 3/4, pp. 313-331. Husain, Afzal. 1983. “The Letters of Hakim Abul Fateh Gilani: An Unexplored Source of Akbar’s Reign”, Proceedings of the Indian History Congress, Vol. 44, pp. 189-97.
Islam, Riazul. 1970. Indo-Persian Relations: A Study of the Political and Diplomatic Relations between the Mughal Empire and Iran, Teheran, Iranian Culture Foundation.
Rahim, Abdur. 1940. Mughal Relations with Persia and Central Asia, Babur to Aurangzeb, (reprinted from Islamic Culture, Vol. 8 & 9, 1934-35), Aligarh, Department of History, Aligarh Muslim University
Rizvi, Saiyid Athar Abbas. 1975. Religious and Intellectual History of the Muslims in Akbar’s Reign with special reference to Abu’l Fazl, Delhi, Munshiram Manoharlal.
Welsford, Thomas. 2013. Four Types of Loyalty in Early Modern Central Asia: The Tūqāy-Tīmūrid Takeover of Greater Mā Warā al-Nahr, 1598-1605, Leiden, Brill Academic Publishers.
Notes
1 Muntakhab ut Tawarikh, II, pp. 266, 314-6. Badauni’s ranting borders on sheer exaggeration as he launches a scathing critique on Akbar whom he holds responsible for the setting of the sun of Islam in the country.
2Ibid., p. 266.
3Ibid., pp. 314-6.
4 Haidar 1982: 323. This work, dealing with the history of the Mughals and descendants of Chingiz Khan in Central Asia, was composed in the mid-eighteenth century by Hajji Mīr Muhammad Salim. Though one has to be cautious while using it to reconstruct a history of the preceding centuries on account of its ill-repute to be replete with fictitious interpolations, the extract cited above seems to be fairly in corroboration with the facts of the time. Welsford 2013: 29.
5 Husain 1983: 189-97; Rizvi 1975: 123-4.
6 Rizvi 1975: 336.
7Islam 1970: 54. Later Akbar had demanded another letter to be drafted by Abū’l Fażl, which comprised the major portion of the epistle that was finally dispatched to ‘Abdullāh.
8‘Letter to ‘Abdullāh Khan Uzbek, the Sipahdar of the Country of Turan (3 September 1586)’ in Mukatabat-i-Allami (Insha’i Abu’l Fażl) I, pp. 39-40. 9Ibid., pp. 33-5.
10 Ibid., p. 34.
11 Ibid.
12 Ibid., p. 35.
13 Ibid., p. 35.
14 Akbarnama, III, p. 756.
15 ‘Letter to ‘Abdullāh Khan Uzbek, the Sipahdar of the Country of Turan (3 September 1586)’, in Mukatabat-i-Allami (Insha’i Abū’l Fażl) I, pp. 32-41.
16 ‘Letter to ‘Abdullāh Khan Uzbek (Letter written from and inspired by the feeling of unity, 1586)’, in Ibid., p. 47.
17 Akbarnama, III, p. 755.
18 Ibid., pp. 755-6.
19 Ibid., pp. 756-7.
20 Ibid., p. 757.
21 Ibid.
22 Ibid.
23 Ibid.
24 Haidar 1982: 321-2.
25 Ibid., p. 322; Islam 1970: 53.
26 Haidar 1982: 322.
27 Muntakhab ut-Tawarikh, II, p. 351.
28 Ibid., p. 352.
29 Haidar 1982: 321.
30 Source: Alam 1994: 204.
31 Islam 1970: 53.
32 Akbarnama, III, p. 758.
33 Torn by rebellions from tribal factions and provincial governors who wished to raise his son Abbas Mīrzā (later Shāh ‘Abbās I, r. 1588-1629) to the throne, the ruler Muhammad Khudabanda Khan (r. 1578-87) was in a precarious position. This
was made worse by the Ottomans, who taking advantage of the internal discord in the state, made inroads into his domains. ‘Letter to ‘Abdullāh Khan Uzbek’, in Mukatabat-i-Allami (Insha’i Abu’l Fażl) I, p. 49; Haidar 1982: 321.
34 Akbarnama, III, p. 758.
35 Shah Tahmasp had provided shelter to Humayun for almost a decade during the latter’s days as a wandering prince after being ousted from India by Sher Shah and had also helped him recover his kingdom. As a token of gratitude, Akbar wanted to refrain from taking any drastic measure against the Shahs of Persia.
36 Muntakhab ut-Tawarikh, II, p. 270.
37 Akbarnama, III, p. 298.
38 Ibid., p. 297.
39 Ibid., pp. 758-9.
40 Ibid., p. 760.
41 Ibid.
42 Ibid., p. 1053-64.
43 Ibid., p. 1054.
44 Ibid., p. 1055.
45 Ibid.
46 Ibid., pp. 662-77.
47 Ibid., pp. 759-60.
48 Ibid., p. 760.
49 Akbarnama, III, p. 1023.
50 Ibid., p. 1055.
51 Source: Chehel Sotun, or ‘The 40 Columns’, Isfahan, Iran, Bridgeman Images.
52 Ibid.
53 Muntakhab ut-Tawarikh, II, p. 416.
54 Akbarnama, III, p. 1055.
55 Ibid., pp. 1056-7.
56 Ibid., p. 1009.
57 Akbarnama, III, p. 1010.
58 Shi’ism borrows its essence from the Twelve Imams, who are considered to be the spiritual and political successors of the Prophet.
59 Ibid., p. 1011.
60 Alam 1994: 203-15.
61 Akbarnama, III, p. 1012.
62 Islam 1970: 58-60.
63 Akbarnama, III, p. 1012.
64 Ibid., pp. 1008-22.
65 Ibid., p. 1010.
66 The left half shows the entourage of the ambassador bearing the gifts sent by Shah Tahmasp of Iran. The right half depicts Akbar receiving the Iranian Ambassador Sayyid Beg in 1562. Source: Akbarnāmā, ca. 1590, Victoria and Albert Museum, London.
67 The figure shows Akbar receiving gifts from the ambassadors of Badakhshán, which included bows, two small dishes of spinels, swords and hunting falcons. Source: The Trustees of the Chester Beatty Library, Dublin.
68 Ibid., p. 1011.
69 Akbarnama, III, p. 1011.
70 Akbarnama, III, p. 1011.
71 Islam 1970: 56.
72 Akbarnama, III, p. 1014.
73 Ibid., pp. 1011-3.
74 Ibid., p. 1112.