Making sense of Babur amid conflicting shades of opinion
The Mughal emperor Babur had many lives. One was the life as he actually lived it. The other lives were constructed by scholars depending on their ideology, predilection and taste. Many images of Babur tumble out of history books. There was Babur the invader, consumed by wars and conquests. There was Babur the originator of the mighty Mughal empire. Babur also brought new battle techniques and cannon to warfare. The Battle of Panipat that he fought was an important turning point in India’s military history. It was for the first time that numbers ceased to be a decisive factor behind the outcome of the war. A numerically smaller army could defeat the much larger army with the help of superior weapons and better strategy.
In popular imagination, Babur is associated with the demolition of the Ram temple in Ayodhya and the construction of Babri Masjid on its debris.
‘Babur: The Quest for Hindustan’ represents one such attempt at reconstructing Babur’s life. It is the second volume of a series. The first volume discussed his personal and family life and the early part of his career, when he was exiled from Central Asia and set his gaze upon India. The second volume goes into a detailed description of his wars and conquests. The Battle of Panipat was obviously his biggest conquest in which he defeated Ibrahim Lodi, not just with the help of superior military technology but also through tactical alliances with local rulers. The battle became a landmark event as it gave Babur a solid foothold in India, leading to the establishment of the large Mughal empire.
The book argues that all the violence and slaughter was geared not just towards conquests, but was rooted in religious zeal as well. The wars were also instruments of religious domination, leading to proselytisation and establishment of Islam on Indian soil. Babur was both a military conqueror and a religious crusader. The book also describes Babur’s observations on the culture, climate, geography, and flora and fauna of Hindustan during his times. This section provides a welcome break from the tedious and somewhat monotonous description of wars and conquests.
The book offers many instances of religious violence and destruction of temples carried out at his behest. However, on the crucial issue of Babri Masjid and the Ram temple, it shifts the timeline of the entire episode by a couple of centuries. It asserts, on the basis of the sources cited, that Babur had never been to Ayodhya; nor had he instructed the demolition of the Ram temple. Even Mir Baqi, his General, was not the governor of the province. There are no instances of the temple being razed and a mosque constructed under Babur’s regime.
The book’s contention is that it happened much later under Aurangzeb as part of his policy of fanaticism and religious intolerance. The demolition of the Ram temple coincided more or less with similar demolitions carried out in Mathura and Varanasi.
Writing on the pre-modern period of history — of events, processes and individuals — is always fraught with challenges. The categories, vantage points, prejudices and social considerations of the present can so easily cast their shadow. These become the blinkers which facilitate certain visions and block others. To look at the past on its own terms and not necessarily settle scores of the present has to be the primary duty of the historian and of history writing.
Also, accounts of the past can be much more illuminating if the historian describes them standing outside the historical processes. But objectivity becomes the first casualty if the historian becomes a participant while describing the events of the past.
Looking at the past on its own terms is an important part of historical craft. It is regrettable that a large number of historical works fail to live up to this test, and end up either glorifying or denigrating the past.
— The reviewer is a Visiting Faculty at BML Munjal University, Manesar
Book Review