The history of mediaeval India is as interesting today as it is difficult to identify which of the voices speaks the truth about that splendid era of the Mughals. The latest in this ‘babel’ of voices is the novel by Alex Rutherford, Empire of the Moghul: Raiders from the North. This is an account of the life and struggle to power of Babur, the first of the Mughal rulers to base his empire in Delhi which then belonged to the sultanate of Ibrahim Lodhi. This book is the first in a series of five novels that aim to capture the story of all the mughals of India.
The novel is written in engaging style and races through about half a century of the life of the great warrior-king, Babur, son of Queen Kutlugh Nigar and Umar-Shaikh, King of Ferghana and one of the five descendants of Timur ruling various kingdoms between Kabul and the Jaxartes River (local Sir Darya). Babur assumes the throne literally by accident at the tender age of twelve. An
accidental collapse of the ceiling ends the life of his father, ruler of Ferghana, and even as opportunistic and greedy relatives, cunning viziers and waiting rivals rush in to occupy the throne, Babur, aided by the king’s most faithful commander of army, Wazir Khan, and his grandmother Esan Dawlat’s strategic guidance, ousts them all to gain the title. He is only twelve years of age.
This is an age when the modern-day child will, hopefully, be stepping into middle school. But Babur is king, waging war to win his next trophy, the neighbouring kingdom of Samarkand. This is the beginning of a bloody saga of strife, disappointment, bitter humiliation, loss and, above all, the making of an emperor. Babur’s route takes him through a difficult path in which for the most part, he suffers the life of a brigand, after losing the spoils of war to deception and weak defences. He has to ultimately give up his dream of ruling from Persia over the Timurid lands and moves en bloc to the lands across the Indus and towards the end of the story establishes his base in a different centre — Delhi — builds the foundations for the saga of the Mughals in India.
The author has done a great job of building up the drama and the tension of the conquests and defeats of Babur. The book reads like an abstracted form of Baburnama, because of frequent references to Babur’s habit of keeping a journal of his daily hour-by-hour activities. The character of Baburi, a lifelong friend of Babur’s, serves as a mirror — illustrating Babur’s inner conflicts and dialogues with himself.
The book is disappointing in some ways, too. Mainly, this story cannot be a substitute for reading factual historical treatises. One can get a flavour of the lifestyle of the Mughals and the framework of relationships and rivalries within their community, but learns hardly anything of their culture or practices other than conquest. The Shia-Sunni conflicts and the portraits of Mughals and Rajputs are stereotypical and offer no new insights. In fact, they could well be misleading. Another unconvincing aspect is the highlighting of Babur’s conquests, the brutality of war crimes and punishments and the marriages, while omitting to describe the technological and cultural signatures of his land and time. Particularly, when in the last part the author stresses on Babur’s interest in making Delhi as beautiful and comfortable a home as his motherland, it sounds strangely at odds with the rough-terrain-warrior-with-no-interest-in-domesticity picture of Babur that has been underlined throughout.
If the reader is willing to suspend judgment and read it more as a precursor to
deeper understanding, she may find this a good introduction to some of the important players in an important section of our history. It is a good first attempt on the part of the husband and wife author-team, but one hopes for more depth and balance in the following parts of the quintet.
— SD