Akbar of Hindustan

Title: Akbar of Hindustan

Author: Parvati Sharma

Publisher: Juggernaut Books, 2022 (First)

ISBN: 9789391165512

Pages: 386

 

There are very many number of books on Akbar in vogue. This book is the latest in the series. I slightly wondered what new things this author has in her oeuvre to tell us that we have not heard before and prepared a blank sheet in my mind to note down such things. What came of it I will describe at the end of this review. And I also failed to categorize this work into any literary genre. Obviously the author wanted some parts to shine out as a novel, some parts as story, still others as historical fiction and the whole of it perhaps as history. Unfortunately, it has turned out to be a chimera of fact and fiction. The Mughal period of Indian history is now increasingly subjected to critical review by scholars who want to eliminate the hyperbole, false accounts and misleading analyses put together by Left-Islamist historians earlier. This book is a feeble attempt to drive a wedge in the popular narrative by inventing – or at least unearthing from hitherto unheard of texts – incidents in which historical characters who are popular in today’s India have acted in ways that defy modern morality. Thus we read about Tulsidas regretting that the Shudras imparting knowledge to non-Brahmins and Birbal arranging the demolition of a temple. Akbar’s reign was marked by a pattern of steady, unrelenting expansion of the realm, a clear focus on the generation of wealth and an equally resolute suppression of any opposition to the emperor. This is clearly catalogued in the book. Parvati Sharma lives in New Delhi where she studied English literature and Indian history. She writes novels and children’s books. Her debut work was known for its depictions of love and sexuality in urban India.

 

The book is not tightly organized around a defining layout and completely lacks a structure. The emperor’s sayings and deeds constitute the bulk of the narrative. While reading through it, one cannot help wonder at the part played by chance in the crucial battle at Panipat (the second). Akbar’s forces met Hemchandra Vikramaditya (Hemu) who was the vizier of Adil Shah Suri, the last of the Suri clan. Hemu did not wear a helmet while riding an elephant in the battle. Suddenly, an arrow pierced his eye, but he bravely pulled the arrow out and with it the eye out of the socket which he wrapped in his handkerchief. But after some time, he slumped unconscious. The elephant was caught and the grievously injured Hemu brought before Akbar who was only fourteen years old. His regent Bairam Khan wanted Akbar to behead him as ‘a blow for empire and Islam’. Akbar meekly obeyed. The Mughals did not leave Hemu’s eighty-year old father also. They captured him and offered him his life in return for converting to Islam. He protested that ‘after eight decades of having worshipped my god according to my religion, why should I change it at this time merely from fear of my life and without understanding it come into your way of worship?’. The fanatical Mughals were not diverted by such theological niceties. The old man was summarily executed like his son. These incidents show how bloodthirsty and devoid of compassion the Mughals acted. But remember, they were the most benevolent under Akbar!

 

It is true that Akbar’s attitude changed during the latter half of his reign and other religions received some royal patronage but never equal status with Islam. Akbar established the Ibadat Khana as a debating platform for various Muslim sects to argue among themselves. But religion is best believed in its entirety rather than subjecting it to rational arguments by the opponents. Akbar saw through its hollowness and was disillusioned. Then he invited other heterodox sects and even other religions. In the end, he decided to start a cult of his own called din-e-Ilahi. Surprisingly, the author makes very few remarks about the new sect on which historian Abraham Eraly heaps his praise as “for a brief, shining moment, a new and brilliant star blazed over Fatehpur Sikri. Then the moment passed. And the night closed in again”. Sharma consistently tries to gloss over temple destruction and forced conversion which was commonplace. In one instance, she talks about Birbal, Akbar’s Hindu minister, sacking and desecrating a temple in Nagarkot and concludes rhetorically that ‘a Shia commander, running a bloody campaign for a Brahmin courtier by assaulting a shrine is not the usual template of bigotry’ (p.175). It is construed as ‘changing affiliations and antagonisms that propelled Akbar’s world’. This is a typical trait of the Left-Islamist cabal. They would arraign any number of reasons or provocations for an act which they cannot openly support with modern morality, but would never pinpoint religious bigotry of the invaders as the prime cause.

 

It is really amusing to observe Parvati Sharma bringing up a retrospective justification for ‘love jihad’ which is a serious problem now faced by Indian society with the story of a couple engaging in inter-religious love. In her story, a Sayyid nobleman falls in love with a Hindu married woman in Agra. Musa and Mohini, as they are called, secretly united twice but forcibly separated each time by the woman’s relatives. Musa dies of heartburn at the ‘injustice’ of Hindus not letting a married woman into his harem. At this, Mohini duly converts to Islam and commits suicide. The author then seethes at the fact that the couple would have met the same fate in twenty-first century Agra. She is probably right. Today’s Agra, or Uttar Pradesh or even India for that matter, has not reached the stage already arrived at in Pakistan where Hindu women are simply kidnapped, declared to have embraced Islam and her relatives then lose any legal right to reclaim her. Is this the model she wants to establish in India? Now we go back to Mughal times for a moment to examine love as a noble emotion that transcends religion. If such was the case, then why is it that not a single case is known where a Mughal princess married a Hindu nobleman who were said to be aplenty in the Mughal court? After all, love is blind, but the author is not. And she knows how to sound the right notes to appear secular in today’s India. Akbar commissioned many translation projects of Hindu religious texts in Sanskrit to Persian. But behind his back, the Persian scholars reproached the books proclaiming polytheism. Badauni termed the Mahabharata ‘a collection of puerile absurdities’ (p.196). Further details of the reluctance of Persian scholars literally to touch Indian epics with their hands can be seen in my review of Audrey Truschke’s book, ‘Culture of Encounters – Sanskrit at the Mughal Court’ earlier in this blog.

 

The book offers nothing new and is just a run-of-the-mill product that satisfies nobody. It starts with an intimidating cast of characters that gives 106 names with their relationship noted in a small paragraph. Needless to say, this is a pure wastage of time as the readers won’t be able to remember even half of them. And some of them are mentioned only once in the main text, so this exercise appears pointless. The requirement of referring to the names after reading the book does not arise either. The author should have provided a caveat informing the readers that they stand to lose nothing if they skipped the section. The book also includes many irrelevant side issues like Akbar’s hatred of homosexuality among his high-ranked officers and the detailed handling of such an affair involving an Uzbek warlord in his service. What is most repugnant about the book is its thinly veiled attempt at cheap political criticism aimed at current nationalist parties. Historians – I am not sure if the author can be called one – should stick to their topics rather than dabble in contemporary political drama and make a mess of what they should have done.

 

In the beginning, I mentioned about a blank sheet in my mind. At the end of the reading, I had yet to scribble anything there apart from some remarks about the jarring political tone of the book. This book is useless as regards information or entertainment and hence not recommended.

 

Rating: 2 Star