power in India had spent its force. The brotherhood of Islam had ceased
to bind together conflicting races; it could not hold together men of
the same race. The struggle between Shiah and Sunni was dividing the
world of Islam. Moguls, Turks, and Afghans were fighting against each
other; they were also fighting among themselves. Rebels of different
races were combining against the Padishah. Meantime any scruples that
remained against fighting fellow-Mussulmans were a hinderance to Akbar
in putting down revolts. The Mussulman power was crumbling to pieces.
The dismemberment had begun two centuries earlier in the revolt of the
Deccan. Since then the strength which remained in the scattered
fragments was wasted in wars and revolts; the whole country was drifting
into anarchy.
No one could save the empire but a born statesman. Akbar had already
proved himself a born soldier. Had he been only a soldier he might still
have held his own against Afghans and Usbegs from Peshawur to Allahabad.
Had he been bloodthirsty and merciless, like Bairam Khan, he might have
stamped out revolt and mutiny by massacre and terrorism. But he would
have left no mark in history, no lessons for posterity, no political
ideas for the education of the world. He might have made a name like
Genghis Khan or Timur; but the story of his life would have dropped into
oblivion. After his death every evil that festered in the body politic
would have broken out afresh. His successors would have inherited the
same wars, the same revolts, and the same mutinies; unless they had
inherited his capacity, they would have died out in anarchy and in
revolution.
Akbar had never been educated. He had never learned to write, nor even
to read. He had not gone with his father to Persia, where he might have
been schooled in Mussulman learning. He had spent a joyless boyhood with
a cruel uncle in Kabul; he had been schooled in nothing but war. But he
had listened to histories, and pondered over histories, until grand
ideas began to seethe in his brain.
The problem before him was the resuscitation of the empire, or rather
the creation of a new empire out of the existing chaos. Fresh blood was
wanted to infuse life and strength into the body politic; to enable the
Mogul Shiahs to subdue the Afghan Sunnis. Akbar saw with the eye of
genius that the necessary force was latent in the Rajputs. Henceforth he
devoted all the energies of his nature to bring that force into healthy
play.
In 1575 Akbar was about thirty-four years of age. Twenty years had
passed away since the boy had been installed as padishah. He had not as
yet conquered Kabul in the northwest, nor Bengal in the southeast; he
had not made any sensible advance into the Deccan. But he had gained a
succession of victories. He had restored order in the Punjab and
Hindustan. He had subdued Malwa, Guzerat, and Rajputana. Many Rajputs
were still in arms against him; he had nothing to fear from them. He had
fixed his capital at Agra; his favorite residence, however, was at
Fathipur Sikri, about twelve miles from Agra.
It is easy to individualize Akbar. He was haughty, like all the Moguls;
he was outwardly clement and affable. He was tall and handsome; broad in
the chest and long in the arms. His complexion was ruddy, a nut-brown.
He had a good appetite and a good digestion. His strength was
prodigious. His courage was very remarkable. While yet a boy he
displayed prodigies of valor in the battle against Hemu. He would spring
on the backs of elephants who had killed their keepers; he would compel
them to do his bidding. He kept a herd of dromedaries; he gained his
victories by the rapidity of his marches. He was an admirable marksman.
He had a favorite gun which had brought him thousands of game. With that
same gun he shot Jeimal the Rajput at the siege of Chitor.
Akbar, like his father and grandfather, professed to be a Mussulman. His
mother was a Persian; he was a Persian in his thoughts and ways. He was
imbued with the old Mogul instinct of toleration. He was lax and
indifferent, without the semblance of zeal. He consulted soothsayers who
divined with burned rams' bones. He celebrated the Persian festival of
the Nau-roz, or new year, which had no connection with Islam. He
reverenced the seven heavenly bodies by wearing a dress of different
color every day in the week. He joined in the Brahmanical worship and
sacrifices of his Rajput queens. Still he was outwardly a Mussulman. He
had no sons; he vowed that if a son was born to him he would walk to the
tomb of a Mussulman saint at Ajmir; it was more than two hundred miles
from Fathipur. In 1570 his eldest son Seli was born; Akbar walked to
Ajmir; he offered up his prayers at the tomb.
Meantime the Ulama were growing troublesome at Agra. The Ulama comprised
the collective body of Mussulman doctors and lawyers who resided at the
capital. The Ulama have always possessed great weight in a Mussulman
state. Judges, magistrates, and law officers in general are chosen from
their number. Consequently the opinion of the collective body was
generally received as the final authority. The Ulama at Agra were
bigoted Sunnis. They hated and persecuted the Shiahs. Especially they
persecuted the teachers of the Sufi heresy, which had grown up in Persia
and was spreading in India. They had grown in power under the Afghan
sultans. They had been quiet in the days of Humayun and Bairam Khan;
both were confessedly Shiahs; the Ulama were too courtly to offend the
power which appointed the law officers. When, however, Akbar threw over
Bairam Khan and asserted his own sovereignty, the Ulama became more
active. They were anxious to keep the young Padishah in the right way.
Akbar and his vizier Abul Fazl were certainly men of genius. They are
still the bright lights of Indian history. They were the foremost men of
their time. But each had a characteristic weakness. Akbar was a born
Mogul. With all his good qualities he was proud, ignorant, inquisitive,
and self-sufficient. Abul Fazl was a born courtier. With all his good
qualities he was a flatterer, a time-server, and a eulogist; he made
Akbar his idol; he bowed down and worshipped him. They became close
friends; they were indeed necessary to each other. Akbar looked to his
minister for praise; Abul Fazl looked to his master for advancement. It
is difficult to admire the genius of Akbar without seeing that he has
been worked upon by Abul Fazl. It is equally difficult to admire the
genius of Abul Fazl without seeing that he is pandering to the vanity of
Akbar.
When Akbar made the acquaintance of Abul Fazl he was in sore perplexity.
He was determined to rule men of all creeds with even hand. The Ulama
were thwarting him. The chief justice at Agra had sentenced men to death
for being Shiahs and heretics. The Ulama were urging the Padishah to do
the same. He was reluctant to quarrel with them; he was still more
reluctant to sanction their high-handed proceedings toward men who
worshipped the same God, but after a different fashion.
How far Akbar opened his soul to Abul Fazl is unknown. No doubt Abul
Fazl read his thoughts. Indeed, he had his own wrongs to avenge. The
Ulama had persecuted his father and driven him into exile. The Ulama
were ignorant, bigoted, and puffed up with pride and orthodoxy. Their
learning was confined to Arabic and the _Koran_. They ignored what they
did not know and could not understand. Abul Fazl must have hated and
despised them. He was far too courtly, too astute, to express his real
sentiments. The Ulama were at variance with the Padishah; they were also
at variance among themselves. Possibly he foresaw that if they disputed
before Akbar they might excite his contempt. How far he worked upon
Akbar can never be ascertained. In the end Akbar ordered that the Ulama
should discuss all questions in his presence; he would then decide who
was right and who was wrong.
There is no evidence that Abul Fazl suggested this course. It was,
however, the kind of incense that a courtier would offer to a sovereign
like Akbar. The learned men were to lay their opinions before the
Padishah; he was to sit and judge. If he needed help, Abul Fazl would be
at his side. Indeed, Abul Fazl would ask questions and invite opinions.
He, the Padishah, would only hear and decide. Accordingly, preparations
were made for the coming debates.
The discussions were held on Thursday evenings. They were carried on in
a large pavilion; it was built for the purpose in the royal garden at
Fathpur Sikri. All the learned men at Agra were invited to attend. The
Padishah and all the grandees of the empire were present. Abul Fazl
acted as a kind of director. He started questions; he expounded his
master's policy of toleration. Akbar preserved his dignity as padishah.
He listened with majestic gravity to all that was said. Occasionally he
bestowed praises and presents upon the best speakers.
For many evenings the proceedings were conducted with due decorum. As,
however, the speakers grew accustomed to the presence of the Padishah,
the spirit of dissension began to work. One evening it led to an uproar;
learned men reviled each other before the Padishah. No doubt Abul Fazl
did his best to make the Ulama uncomfortable. He shifted the discussion
from one point to another. He started dangerous subjects. He placed them
in dilemmas. If they sought to please the Padishah they sinned against
the _Koran_; if they stuck to the _Koran_ they offended the Padishah. A
question was started as to Akbar's marriages. One orthodox magistrate
was too conscientious to hold his tongue; he was removed from his post.
The courtiers saw that the Padishah delighted in the discomfiture of
the Ulama with inconsistency, trickery, and cheating. The law officers
were unable to defend themselves. Their authority and orthodoxy was set
at naught. They were fast drifting into disgrace and ruin. They had
cursed one another in their speech; probably in their hearts they were
all agreed in cursing Abul Fazl.
By this time Akbar held the Ulama in small esteem. He was growing
sceptical of their religion. He had listened to the history of the
caliphate; he yearned toward Ali and his family; he became in heart a
Shiah. Already he may have doubted Mahomet and the _Koran_. Still he was
outwardly a Mussulman. His object now was to overthrow the Ulama
altogether; to become himself the supreme spiritual head, the pope or
caliph of Islam. Abul Fazl was laboring to invest him with the same
authority. He mooted the question one Thursday evening. He raised a
storm of opposition; for this he was prepared. He had started the idea;
he exerted all his tact and skill to carry it out.
The debates proved that there were differences of opinion among the
Ulama. Abul Fazl urged that there were differences of opinion between
the highest Mussulman authorities; between those who were accepted as
infallible, and were known as Mujtahids. He thus inserted the thin edge
of the wedge. He proposed that when the Mujtahids disagreed, the
decision should be left to the Padishah. Weeks and months passed away in
these discussions. Nothing could be said against the measure excepting
that it would prove offensive to the Padishah.
Meantime a document was drawn up in the names of the chief men among the
Ulama. It gave the Padishah the power of deciding between the
conflicting authorities. It gave him the still more dangerous power of
issuing fresh decrees, provided they were in accordance with some verse
of the _Koran_ and were manifestly for the benefit of the people. The
document was in the handwriting of Sheik Mubarak; Abul Fazl, Abdul Faiz,
and probably Akbar himself had each a hand in the composition. The chief
men among the Ulama were required to sign it. Perhaps if they had been
priests or divines they might have resisted to the last. But they were
magistrates and judges; their posts and emoluments were in danger. In
the end they signed it in sheer desperation. From that day the power of
the Ulama was gone; they had abdicated their authority to the padishah;
they became mere ciphers in Islam. A worse lot befell their leaders. The
head of the Ulama and the obnoxious chief justice were removed from
their posts and forced to go to Mecca.
The breaking up of the Ulama is an epoch in history of Mussulman India.
The Ulama may have been ignorant and bigoted; they may have sought to
keep religions and the government of the empire within the narrow
grooves of orthodoxy. Nevertheless, they had played an important part
throughout Mussulman rule. As exponents of the law of Mahomet they had
often proved a salutary check upon despotism of the sovereign. They had
forced every minister, governor, and magistrate to respect the
fundamental principles of the _Koran_. They led and controlled public
opinion among the Mussulman population. They formed the only body in the
state that ever ventured to oppose the will of the sovereign.
The Thursday evenings had done their work. Within four years they had
broken up the power of the Ulama. Abul Fazl had another project in his
brain; it combined the audacity of genius with the mendacity of a
courtier. He declared that Akbar was himself the twelfth imam, the lord
of the period, who was to reconcile the seventy-two sects of Islam, to
regenerate the world, to usher in the millennium. The announcement took
the court by surprise. It fitted, however, into current ideas; it paved
the way for further assumptions. Akbar grasped the notion with
eagerness; it fascinated him for the remainder of his life; it bound him
in the closest ties of friendship and confidence with Abul Fazl.
The religious life of Akbar had undergone a vast change. He was testing
religion by morality and reason. His faith in Islam was fading away.
Mahomet had married a girl of ten; he had taken another man's wife;
therefore he could not have been a prophet sent by God. Akbar
disbelieved the story of his night-journey to heaven. Meantime Akbar was
eagerly learning the mysteries of other religions. He entertained
Brahmans, Sufis, Parsis, and Christian fathers. He believed in the
transmigration of the soul, in the supreme spirit, in the ecstatic
reunion of the soul with God, in the deity of fire and the sun. He
leaned toward Christianity; he rejected the trinity and incarnation.
The gravitations of Akbar toward Christianity are invested with singular
interest. He had been impressed with what he heard of the Portuguese in
India; their large ships, impregnable forts, and big guns. He sent a
letter to the Portuguese viceroy at Goa inviting Christian fathers to
come to his court at Fathpur Sikri and instruct him in the sacred books.
The religious world at Goa was thrown into a ferment at the prospect of
converting the Great Mogul. Every priest in Goa prayed that he might be
sent on the mission. Three fathers were despatched to Fathpur, which was
more than twelve hundred miles away. Akbar awaited their arrival with
the utmost impatience. He received them with every mark of favor. They
delivered their presents, consisting of a polyglot Bible in four
languages and the images of Jesus and the Virgin Mary. To their
unspeakable delight the Great Mogul placed the Bible on his head and
kissed the images. So eager was he for instruction that he spent the
whole night in conversation with the fathers. He provided them with
lodgings in the precincts of his palace; he permitted them to set up a
chapel and altar.
Akbar had ceased to be a Mussulman; he still maintained appearances. He
set apart Saturday evenings for controversies between the fathers and
the mollahs. In the end the fathers convinced Akbar of the superiority
of Christianity. They contrasted the sensualities of Mahomet with the
pure morality of the Gospel; the wars of Mahomet and the caliphs with
the preachings and sufferings of the Apostles. The Mussulman historian
curses the fathers; he states that Akbar became a Christian. The
fathers, however, could never induce Akbar to be baptized. He gave them
his favorite son Amurath, a boy of thirteen, to be educated in
Christianity and the European sciences. He directed Abul Fazl to prepare
a translation of the Gospel. He entered the chapel of the fathers, and
prostrated himself before the image of the Saviour. He permitted the
fathers to preach Christianity in any part of his empire; to perform
their rites in public, in opposition to Mussulman law. A Portuguese was
buried at Fathpur with all the pomp of the Roman Catholic ritual; the
cross was carried through the streets for the first time. But Akbar
would not become a Christian; he waited, he said, for the divine
illumination.
"He hated the Mussulman religion. He overthrew the mosques and converted
them into stables. He trusted and employed the Hindus more than the
Mussulmans. Many of the Mussulmans rebelled against him; they stirred up
his brother, the Governor of Kabul, to take up arms against him; but
Akbar defeated the rebels and restored order.
"It is uncertain what really was the religion of Akbar. Some said that
he was a Hindu; others that he was a Christian. Some said that he
belonged to a fourth sect, which was not connected with either of the
three others. He acknowledged one God who was best content with a
variety of sects and worshippings. Early in the morning, and again at
noon, evening, and midnight, he worshipped the sun. He belonged to a new
sect, of which the followers regarded him as their prophet."
Akbar was no fanatic. He was not carried away by religious craze. His
religion was the outcome of his policy; it was political rather than
superstitious; it began with him and ended with him. Probably the lack
of fanaticism caused its failure. Abul Fazl speaks of the numbers who
joined it; the list which he has preserved only contains the names of
eighteen courtiers, including himself, his father, and his brother. Only
one Hindu is on the list; namely, Bir Bar, the Brahman.
Akbar tried hard to improve the morals of his subjects, Hindus as well
as Mussulmans. He placed restrictions upon prostitution; he severely
punished seducers. He permitted the use of wine; he punished
intoxication. He prohibited the slaughter of cows. He forbade the
marriage of boys before they were sixteen, and of girls before they were
fourteen. He permitted the marriage of Hindu widows. He tried to stop
sati among the Hindus, and polygamy among the Mussulmans.
There was much practical simplicity in Akbar's character. It showed
itself in a variety of ways. It was not peculiar to Akbar; it was an
instinct which shows itself in Moguls generally. His emirs cheated him
by bringing borrowed horses to muster; he stopped them by branding every
horse with the name of the emir to which it belonged as well as with the
imperial mark. He appointed writers to record everything he said or
did. He sent writers into every city and province to report to him
everything that was going on. He hung up a bell at the palace; any man
who had a grievance might ring the bell and obtain a hearing.
Akbar was very inquisitive. He sent an expedition to discover the
sources of the Ganges. He made a strange experiment to discover what
language was first spoken by mankind. This experiment is typical of the
man. The Mussulmans declared that the first language was Arabic; the
Jews said it was Hebrew; the Brahmans said it was Sanskrit. Akbar
ordered twelve infants to be brought up by dumb nurses; not a word was
to be spoken in their presence until they were twelve years of age. When
the time arrived the children were brought before Akbar. Proficients in
the learned tongues were present to catch the first words, to decide
upon the language to which it belonged. The children could not say a
word; they spoke only by signs. The experiment was an utter failure.
The character of Akbar had its dark side. He was sometimes harsh and
cruel. His persecution of Mussulmans was unpardonable. He had another
way of getting rid of his enemies which is revolting to civilization. He
kept a prisoner in his pay. He carried a box with three
compartments--one for betel; another for digestive pills; a third for
poisoned pills. No one dared to refuse to eat what was offered him by
the Padishah; the offer was esteemed an honor. How many were poisoned by
Akbar is unknown. The practice was in full force during the reigns of
his successors.
Akbar required his emirs to prostrate themselves before him. This rule
gave great offence to Mussulmans; prostration is worship; no strict
Mussulman will perform worship except when offering his prayers to God.
Abul Fazl says that Akbar ordered it to be discontinued. The point is
doubtful. It was certainly performed by members of the "divine faith."
It was also performed during the reign of his son and successor.
The Mogul government was pure despotism. Every governor and viceroy was
supreme within his province; the Padishah was supreme throughout his
empire. There was nothing to check provincial rulers but fear of the
Padishah; there was nothing to check the Padishah but fear of rebellion.
All previous Mussulman sovereigns had been checked by the Ulama and the
authority of the _Koran_. Akbar had broken up the Ulama and set aside
the _Koran_; he governed the empire according to his will; his will was
law. The old Mogul khans had held diets; no trace of a diet is to be
found in the history of Mogul India prior to the reign of Aurungzeb.
There may have been a semblance of a diet on the accession of a new
padishah; all the emirs, rajas, and princes of the empire paid their
homage, presented gifts, and received titles and honors. But there was
no council or parliament of any sort or kind. The Padishah was one and
supreme.
Akbar dwelt many years at Lahore. There he seems to have reached the
height of human felicity. A proverb became current, "As happy as Akbar."
He established his authority in Kabul and Bengal. He added Cashmere to
his dominions. His empire was as large as that of Asoka.
During the reign of Burhan, Akbar sent ambassadors to the sultans of the
Deccan to invite them to accept him as their suzerain. In return he
would uphold them on their thrones; he would prevent all internecine
wars. One and all refused to pay allegiance to the Mogul. Akbar was
wroth at the refusal. He sent his son Amurath to command in Guzerat; he
ordered Amurath to seize the first opportunity for interfering in the
affairs of Ahmadnagar.
The moment soon arrived. Burhan died in 1594. A war ensued between rival
claimants for the throne. The minister invited Amurath to interfere.
Amurath advanced to Ahmadnagar. Meantime the minister and queen came to
terms; they united to resist the Moguls. The Queen dowager, known as
Chand Bibi, arrayed herself in armor; she veiled her face and led the
troops in person. The Moguls were driven back. At last a compromise was
effected. Berar was ceded to the Padishah; Amurath retired from
Ahmadnagar.
About this time a strange event took place at Lahore. On Easter Sunday,
1597, the Padishah was celebrating the Nau-roz, or feast of the new
year, in honor of the sun. Tented pavilions were set up in a large
plain. An image of the sun, fashioned of gold and jewels, was placed
upon a throne. Suddenly a thunderbolt fell from the skies. The throne
was overturned. The royal pavilion was set on fire; the flames spread
throughout the camp; the whole was burned to the ground. The fire
reached the city and burned down the palace. Nearly everything was
consumed. The imperial treasures were melted down, and molten gold and
silver ran through the streets of Lahore.
This portentous disaster made a deep impression on Akbar. He went away
to Cashmere; he took one of the Christian fathers with him. He began to
question the propriety of his new religion; he could not bring himself
to retract, certainly not to become an open Christian. When the summer
was over he returned to Lahore.