The Hindu Business Line : All things Mughal

It's an account that recreates for the reader a magic world filled with spectacular marble mausoleums, wondrous architecture, music, poetry and literature, beautiful women decked in the finest of fabrics and dazzling jewellery, the fragrance of gardens, the soothing of cool water fountains as well as the gore and blood of wars, overvaulting ambition, opium addiction and greed for power and pelf.

Annemarie Schimmel's The Empire of the Great Mughals — History, Art and Culture, published by the Oxford University Press, is a laudable endeavour capturing both the exotic and sometimes not-so-exotic world of the Mughal emperors, dating from the 16th century through to their downfall in the 19th century.

The author quotes extensively from the comprehensive historical documentation that the Mughal emperors left behind, also using the personal diaries that both Babur and Jahangir kept, "recording their lives, their adventures and their loves."

What unfolds is a virtual treat. The first chapter contains pen sketches of the first six rulers — from Babur to Aurangzeb — and is followed by a brief description of the empire's twilight years (1707-1857). In the profiles, the author gives us nuggets on the lesser-known side of the Mughal kings. For example, Baburnama reveals Babur "as a vigorous young hero, a dashing knight, a conqueror who laid the foundation of his Indian empire in 1526, only four years before his untimely death in a fall at the Purana Qila in Delhi."

Notes the author: "The athletic Babur boasted of having swum across the Ganges with only 33 strokes in each direction, indeed of having swum across every river he had ever encountered."

Babur, as is well known, did not like India, and after his death his body was "taken from Hindustan, where he had been revered rather than loved, and returned to Kabul, the scene of his early triumphs, where most of his children were born." Coming as he did between Babur's "steadfast bravery, his literary talent and his earthy sense of humour", and Akbar the Great, Humayun is often relegated to the darker corners of Mughal history; "but one historian's conclusion, that he `stumbled into death as he had stumbled through life', is certainly too harsh an epitaph," says the author.

For all his greatness and acumen, his penchant for religious tolerance and his sense of fair play and justice, Akbar's last years, as described by Schimmel, were gloomy. Quoting from Welch, she says, "Akbar could subdue wild elephants, yet he had enormous difficulties with his son and heir Salim (who later became Jahangir)."

Less interested in the arts than his forefathers and embracing piety and all things Islamic, Aurangzeb's stern reign brought about the suppression of poetry, ban on alcohol, and reintroduction of jizya — the tax on Hindus that Akbar had stopped; in short, "life became more joyless". The chapter on religion details the subtle differences in the manner each of the Islamic rulers ruled India's majority Hindu community.

Especially interesting is the chapter on `Women at Court', which spells out in detail the important role Mughal women played in governance. Experts at intrigues and political manoeuvring, the women decisively took one side or the other in their male relatives' battles for the throne, and these battles raged all the time. Most marriages were political in nature and with the rulers being allowed more than one wife there was enough scope for romance too!

We all know about Nur Jahan's shrewdness and administrative skills and how she made Jahangir hand over decision-making powers to her. But startling is the revelation made by Jahangir himself: "I have handed the business of government over to Nur Jahan; I require nothing beyond a ser of wine and half a ser of meat." If the Mughal rulers had managed to tone down their obsession for wining and dining, perhaps the history of India might have been different.

Shah Jahan's daughter Jahan Ara was another astute woman who, like many Mughal women, was not only well educated and known for her patronage of the arts, but also shared her father's passion for building and was responsible for the construction of Chandni Chowk in Delhi and several gardens and impressive buildings. The book does not shy away from mentioning that during the eight years she shared with her deposed father in the palace at Agra, there were whispers of her sharing an incestuous relationship with Shah Jahan. Her close relationship with her brother Dara Shikoh, whom she supported against Aurangzeb, was also grist for the gossip mills and "was sometimes wrongly interpreted".

The book gives fascinating accounts of the Mughals' obsession with wine and opium, and intriguing is the women's love for the spirits. Jahan Ara, we are told, made her own wine!

It is Schimmel's love for detail that will give this book a special place among the numerous chronicles of Mughal history. The kind of textiles that the Mughal men and women wore, the gems and jewellery that decorated their persons, their crowns and thrones — the crowning glory being the Peacock Throne, the kind of food and wine they consumed and the vessels that contained them, the type of art and literature that flourished during each ruler's regime, down to the detailed depiction of the horses and animals that adorned this era... it's all there. It is chronicling of daily life during the Mughal era that makes this book really special.

Sadly enough it's a posthumous edition; Schimmel, a linguist of uncommon gifts — apart from "Latin and Greek and half a dozen modern European languages, she knew Arabic, Persian, Turkish, Urdu and Pashto" — passed away in 2003. This edition is a translation from the original German.

Interspersed with soulful poetry, telling of love and loneliness, excellent reproduction of miniature paintings and images of dazzling pieces of jewellery studded with diamonds, rubies, emeralds, et al ... not to forget juicy bits of gossip like Shah Jahan's daughter Roshanara "used to hide young men in her house and even disguised them in women's clothing and went riding with them" ... the book captivates the reader. Schimmel's simple language, lucid style — she can be irreverent without being malicious and puts in a touch of humour, pathos and tragedy in just the right doses — and racy narrative, coupled with the intrinsic magic of the Mughal era, make this a compelling read. It can give the Dan Browns a run for their money; Schimmel proves that after all, history, interspersed with a dash of fable, can make a headier cocktail than history interwoven with the most outlandish fictitious theories!

At Rs 1,395, the price tag is indeed steep, but the glossy art paper on which the entire book is printed, not to forget the content, makes it a worthwhile possession.

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