Abraham Eraly - The Age of Wrath - A History of the Delhi Sultanate

Iltutmish then turned to Bengal, where Ali Mardan, a barely sane megalomaniac, had assumed sovereign power on Aibak’s death, and preened himself as the monarch of the whole world. Once, according to Siraj, when an impoverished merchant requested for a donation from him, ‘the king enquired what his native place was. He replied, Isfahan [in Persia]. The king then ordered a firman (decree) to be written, granting to him Isfahan as his jagir .’ Besides being grotesquely delusional, Ali Mardan was also ‘a cruel and sanguinary man,’ notes Siraj. All this was too much even for his own nobles, so they eventually murdered him and placed one of their colleagues on the throne. At that point Iltutmish, freed from anxiety about his western frontier, marched into Bengal and brought it under his control. But the relief was only temporary. Trouble continued to brew in Bengal, and it was only after some five years that Iltutmish was finally able to establish his authority there with reasonable firmness.

Rebellion would however erupt again and again in Bengal during the reigns of the latter sultans, and the region would remain in a state of turbulence throughout the entire history of the Sultanate. And so would several other provinces of the empire. The realms of Hindu rajas in the Indo-Gangetic Plain were also always in turmoil. Soon after Aibak’s death, several of the rajas broke free from the control of the Sultanate and assumed belligerent postures, so they had to be subjugated all over again. In all this, the problems that Iltutmish faced were typical of the problems that the sultans would face all through the history of the Delhi Sultanate. The character of Delhi Sultanate during its entire history was more like that of a military occupation than that of an established state, so its authority had to be periodically reasserted through military action.

ILTUTMISH WAS ABLE to overcome most of the problems he faced and re-establish the royal authority over all the lands over which Aibak had ruled. There was even some territorial expansion under him, into Madhya Pradesh, so that his empire extended right across North India, from Indus in the west to Brahmaputra in the east. Iltutmish also managed to keep his turbulent Turkish nobles under reasonable subordination, and he introduced a fair amount of decorum in the royal court, along the lines of the Persian court etiquette, in the place of the casualness that had been the norm there before him.

These reforms of Iltutmish raised the stature of the sultan well above that of the nobles. But what was gain for the sultan was loss for the nobles. They had traditionally enjoyed a near equal status with the sultan, but now they were his servitors. Their loss was not so much of power as of status, but status was as important to them as power. The top nobles of the empire then formed an informal league called The Forty, to countervail the supremacy of the sultan. All the great fiefs of the empire, as well as all the highest offices in the government and the army, were held by these nobles, and they would play, from behind the throne, a crucial role in the affairs of the Delhi Sultanate for many years.

The quarter century long reign of Iltutmish was one of substantial achievements, in recognition of which he was honoured by the Caliph by sending to him a robe of honour, and by issuing an edict designating him as Sultan of India. The Qutb Minar, the colossal victory tower in Delhi, today stands as a fitting monument to the great sultan — though the construction of the tower was begun by Aibak, he had built only its bottom storey; it was Iltutmish who completed the edifice.

Iltutmish enjoyed as high a reputation for benevolence, as for administrative efficiency and martial prowess. ‘It is firmly believed that no king so benevolent, so sympathising, and so respectful to the learned and to elders as he was’ had ever ruled the empire, states Siraj. And Ibn Battuta, the Moroccan scholar-traveller who was in India in the fourteenth century, adds: ‘He was just, pious and virtuous. Among his noteworthy characteristics was the zeal with which he endeavoured to redress wrongs, and to render justice to the oppressed.’ Symbolic of this was the great bell that Iltutmish set up at the entrance of the royal palace, which people could ring to draw the sultan’s attention and seek justice. ‘When the sultan heard the bell, he immediately inquired into the case and gave satisfaction to the complainant,’ records Battuta.

Unfortunately, the sultan was beset with several personal misfortunes in the last phase of his life. His eldest and favourite son, crown prince Nasir-ud-din Mahmud, died in Bengal at this time under mysterious circumstances. There was even an assassination attempt on the sultan at this time, when a band of Ismailis stormed into the Great Mosque in Delhi during the Friday prayers, and cut through the congregation towards the sultan, who barely managed to escape before the would-be assassins reached him. A few months later, while he was conducting a campaign against the turbulent Khokars of Punjab, he was stricken with a serious illness, and had to be carried back to Delhi on a litter.

As his life was ebbing away, the courtiers urged him to nominate a successor, so as to avert the horrors of a disputed succession. Iltutmish then named his eldest daughter Raziya as his successor. ‘The sultan,’ writes Siraj, ‘discerned in her countenance the signs of power and bravery, and, although she was a girl and lived in seclusion, … [the sultan] put her name in writing as the heir of the kingdom, and successor to the throne.’ And when the courtiers demurred about this on the ground that Raziya was a woman, Iltutmish told them: ‘My sons are devoted to the pleasures of youth, and not one of them is qualified to be the king … After my death you will find that there is no one more competent to guide the state than my daughter.’

THE SULTAN’S CHOICE of Raziya for the throne was not merely an expression of sentiment, but of sound judgement as well, for the princess was a very capable woman, and had a good amount of administrative experience, as Iltutmish had often left her in charge of the government when he was away on military campaigns, and she had, according to Siraj, exercised royal authority with great dignity. Still, Iltutmish’s choice of her for the throne was unconventional. Even though there were a few instances in Arab history of women playing an open role in politics, and even leading armies into battle, the normal practice in Islamic societies was for royal women, however ambitious and able they were, to play politics only from behind the harem screen, and not openly. Not surprisingly, the Delhi nobles abhorred the idea of being subservient to a woman, and on the death of Iltutmish they disregarded his choice and placed his eldest surviving son, Rukn-ud-din Firuz, on the throne.

Ironically, even in choosing Firuz, what the nobles in effect got was a woman’s rule, and that too of a petty, vindictive and vicious woman, for Firuz had no interest in ruling, and he left all the power to his mother, Shah Turkan, a low-born former handmaid of Iltutmish. Firuz was entirely feckless. His only virtue was generosity, but even that he turned into a vice by his excesses. He was ‘a very generous and handsome king, full of kindness and humanity … No king in any reign had ever scattered gifts, robes of honour, and grants in the way he did,’ writes Siraj. ‘But all his lavishness sprang from his inordinate addiction to sensuality, pleasure and conviviality. He was so entirely addicted to revelry and debauchery that he often bestowed his honours and rewards on bands of singers, buffoons and catamites. He scattered his riches to such a heedless extent that he would ride out drunk upon an elephant through the streets and bazaars, throwing tankas of red gold around him for the people to pick up and rejoice over.’