In an India where the Mughals are getting written out of textbooks, there is no Mughal more controversial than Aurangzeb. Just a mention of this man—the sixth and last of the great Mughals, after which the dynasty went into a decline—and there is instant polarisation. For a vast number of Hindutva proponents, Aurangzeb was a bigot, a destroyer of temples and an oppressor of Hindus. For many Muslims, especially those affiliated to Muslim nationalist organisations such as the All-India Majlis-e-Ittehadul Muslimeen, Aurangzeb was a hero, a crusader for Islam.
The truth, according to historian Munis D Faruqui in Aurangzeb ‘Alamgir and the Mughal Empire, is far more complicated. Faruqui sets out to explore varied aspects of Aurangzeb’s life and times across the three parts of this book, in a format which does not quite conform to the more predictable structure of a biography. Aurangzeb ‘Alamgir, instead, looks at its subject through different lenses, ranging from his political and administrative views, to his ideas on spirituality and religion, to the differing ways in which he was perceived by others, both within his lifetime and beyond. Faruqui writes: “He emerges as a man of many contradictions: he loved his children, but he also feared and mistrusted them…; he was generous and loyal to those who served him, but he was also a demanding and harsh taskmaster; as he aged he grew increasingly humble and self-effacing, but he remained given to prideful and angry outbursts; in his private life he was devoted to Hanafi Sunni Islam, but he did not impose his beliefs on his subjects…”
The widespread popularity of Aurangzeb, who was regarded by many as a zinda pir (a living saint) during his lifetime, is among the most interesting aspects of this well-researched book
The first part of the book examines Aurangzeb’s rise to power, its consolidation, and the factors that limited his effectiveness as a ruler. Faruqui shows how Aurangzeb (whom he names thus when referring to his days as a prince) diligently planned his rise to the throne, and how a careful consolidation of power and influence helped him eventually fulfil his ambition of occupying the throne. How and why ‘Alamgir (the title Faruqui uses for Aurangzeb after he is crowned Emperor), despite being a tireless and reformist administrator, ended up leaving a legacy of an impoverished Empire, forms the rest of this section.
The second part is fascinating, examining two institutions that played an important part in the political and administrative life of Aurangzeb: the harem and the eunuchate. The author traces the history of both these institutions across the evolution of the Mughal dynasty, and shows how in Aurangzeb’s time they wielded an astonishing level of influence. Of special note here is the personality of his daughter, Zinat-al-Nisa, who “successfully secured the imperial harem’s place at the center of Mughal power.”
Aurangzeb’s life, and the aftermath of his death, is explored in the third and final part of the book. Using documents (akhbarat) chronicling the last fifteen days of the Emperor’s court appearances, Faruqui focuses on a range of topics related to Aurangzeb’s life: his relationships with his sons; the critical role played by spies and information networks during his reign; the prickly question of conversions and the status of Hindus; important courtiers; and more. The last chapter of the book, Memorializing ‘Alamgir, looks at how the Emperor was remembered, even idolised, in the decades following his death. Not just by those who had once been loyal to him but also (in areas such as Himachal Pradesh and Jammu, for instance) by those who had had little to do with the Mughals.
The widespread popularity of Aurangzeb, who was regarded by many as a ‘zinda pir’ (a living saint) during his lifetime, is among the most interesting aspects of this well-researched, well-written book. Given that the Mughal ruler is so controversial today, it can be hard to fathom the reasons behind his immense popularity, or the intense loyalty he commanded; but the rational, balanced way in which Faruqui lays out his evidence makes for a good case.
This careful balance is maintained throughout the book. Faruqui balances Aurangzeb’s personal life—his self-control and austerity, for example—with his life as Emperor, as general, and administrator. He balances his life with those of his household on the one hand, his courtiers and ministers on the other; and even those he came up against, whether they were his father, his brothers, his sons, or opponents like the Marathas or Sikhs.
Faruqui ends Aurangzeb ‘Alamgir with a discussion on how and why Aurangzeb’s reputation underwent a sea change over the centuries, so much so that Sir Jadunath Sarkar, one of the foremost Mughal historians of India, began his five-volume history of ‘Alamgir on a positive note but in later volumes branded the Emperor a bigoted and ruthless tyrant.
A complicated personality, and one to which Faruqui’s book does justice. Its nuanced and objective narrative, the depth and width of Faruqui’s research, and his lucid writing combine to make this a valuable and interesting book even for a lay reader.