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

This was an affront that Balban could not tolerate, and he personally set out on a campaign to exterminate the Mewatis. For twenty days he had his soldiers ravage the Mewati habitats with deliberate and ruthless savagery, slaughtering the people there wholesale, the frenzy of the soldiers being roused by Balban’s offer of a tanka for every severed head, and two tankas for every living prisoner. Several Mewati leaders were captured and taken to Delhi, and were executed there in various gruesome ways — some were thrown under elephants to be trampled to death, while others were cut to pieces or flayed alive. Despite all this, the Mewatis became active again a few months later, so Balban once again marched out against them, and this time massacred some 12,000 people there. Then, to prevent the recurrence of the problem, he cleared the forests around Delhi, set up military outposts there, and settled Afghan soldier-farmers in vulnerable areas, giving them tax-free lands.

Elsewhere in the Sultanate too Balban was ruthless in dealing with any kind of turmoil. Thus when lawlessness broke out in Katehr in north-western Uttar Pradesh, Balban, according to Barani, personally led a contingent of soldiers into the region, and ordered them to ‘burn down Katehr and destroy it, to slay every man, and to spare none but women and children … He remained for some days in Katehr and directed the slaughter. The blood of the rioters ran in streams, heaps of the slain were to be seen near every village and jungle, and the stench of the dead reached as far as Ganga.’ And, as in Mewat, in Katehr too, to secure the region, Balban cleared the jungles, laid new roads, and constructed several forts in vulnerable areas. These measures led to a general improvement of law and order in the Sultanate, which in turn led to greater material prosperity, as commercial transport became secure, and farmers were freed from the harassment of brigands.

EVEN MORE SERIOUS than the problems of brigandage was the problem of the insubordination of provincial governors that perennially bedevilled the Sultanate. Bengal was particularly vulnerable to this hazard, so that its capital, Lakhnawati, earned the sobriquet Bulghakpur, City of Rebellion. ‘The people of this country had for many long years evinced a disposition to revolt,’ observes Barani. ‘And the disaffected and evil disposed among them generally succeeded in alienating the loyalty of the governors.’ Balban therefore appointed Tughril, one of his most ‘cherished slaves,’ as the governor of Bengal. Tughril was, according to Barani, ‘a very active, bold, courageous and generous man,’ and Balban believed that Bengal would be safe under his governorship. But soon after Tughril settled in Bengal, ‘ambition laid its egg in his head,’ and he broke out in rebellion. Balban then directed Amin Khan, the governor of Oudh, to suppress the rebellion, but he was easily routed by Tughril. Balban probably suspected treachery in Amin Khan’s tame retreat from Bengal, and it so roused his wrath that he had him executed forthwith. But the two other contingents that he thereafter sent against Tughril also suffered defeat. These reverses were humiliating to Balban, and a threat to his authority, so he himself then proceeded to Bengal, with the awful resolve never to return except with the rebel’s head.

That unnerved Tughril, and on Balban’s approach he fled eastward from Lakhnawati, hoping that the sultan would not pursue him there. But Balban was relentless in his pursuit. So, as the royal army closed in on him, Tughril retreated further eastward, towards Tripura. But he was pursued there too, and was soon overtaken and captured by a small band of royal soldiers, who immediately beheaded him. Balban then returned to Lakhnawati with a large number of captured rebel soldiers. There, to serve as a warning to other potential rebels, Balban ‘ordered gibbets to be erected along both sides of the great bazaar, which was more than a kos (two miles) in length,’ reports Barani. ‘He ordered all the sons and sons-in-law of Tughril, and all the men who had served him or borne arms for him, to be slain and placed upon the gibbets … This so horrified the beholders that they themselves nearly died of fear.’

Balban then appointed his son Bughra Khan as the governor of Bengal, after taking from him an oath ‘that he would recover and secure the country of Bengal and that he would not hold convivial parties, nor indulge in wine and dissipation.’ The sultan also warned him about the awful fate that awaited anyone rebelling against royal authority.

Balban then set out for Delhi, herding a large number of captured deserters from the royal army who had joined Tughril. He intended to gibbet them all in Delhi, but was dissuaded from that dreadful reprisal by the qazi, who, according to Barani, threw himself at the feet of the sultan and interceded for the prisoners. The appeal moved the sultan, and he pardoned most of the deserters, and even the others he banished or imprisoned only for short periods. Balban’s Bengal campaign altogether took three years.

‘FROM BEING A MALIK he became a khan, and from being a khan he became a king,’ writes Barani, describing the career of Balban. ‘When he attained the throne he imparted to it new lustre; he brought the administration into order, and restored to efficiency institutions whose power had been shaken or destroyed. The dignity and authority of government was restored, and his stringent rules and resolute determination caused all men, high and low, throughout his dominions, to submit to his authority … [He ruled the empire] with dignity, honour and vigour.’

On the whole Balban had very substantial achievements to his credit. And, though he was utterly ruthless in enforcing his will, he was never rash or capricious, but deliberate in all that he said and did, and always in perfect self-control. By the end of his reign security and order by and large prevailed in the sultanate, in so far as they could prevail anywhere in India in the thirteenth century.

Then tragedy struck.

In 1285, Balban’s eldest and favourite son, Muhammad, the heir apparent — whom ‘his father loved … dearer than his own life,’ according to Barani — was killed in Multan in a battle against Mongols. Balban was devastated by the tragedy, although he maintained a façade of imperturbable composure in public. ‘The sultan was now more than eighty years old, and though he struggled hard against the effects of his bereavement, day by day they became more apparent,’ notes Barani. ‘By day he held his court, and entered into public business as if to show that his loss had not affected him; but at night he poured forth his cries of grief, tore his garments, and threw dust upon his head … The reign of Balban now drew to a close, and he gradually sank under his sorrow.’

The death of Muhammad was not just a personal loss for the sultan, but an irreparable loss for the dynasty, for Muhammad was a highly cultured, earnest and able prince. ‘The court of the young prince,’ reports Barani, ‘was frequented by the most learned, excellent and accomplished men of the time … [Poets] Amir Khusrav and Amir Hasan served at his court … [They were richly rewarded by the prince, and they used to say that] they had very rarely seen a prince so excellent and virtuous … [as Muhammad]. At his entertainments they never heard him indulge in foolish or dirty talk, whether wine was drunk or not; if he drank wine, he did so in moderation, so as not to become intoxicated and senseless.’

In 1287, two years after Muhammad’s death, Balban himself died. The major concern of Balban in his last days was to decide on who should succeed him. His initial choice was Bughra Khan, his second son. Balban summoned him from Lakhnawati, and said to him: ‘Grief for your bother has brought me to my deathbed, and who knows how soon my end may come? This is no time for you be absent, for I have no other son to take my place. [My grandsons] Kaikhusrav (son of Muhammad) and Kaiqubad (son of Bughra Khan) … are young, and have not experienced the heat and cold of fortune. Youthful passions and indulgence would make them unfit to govern my kingdom, if it should descend to them. The realm of Delhi would again become a child’s toy, as it was under the successors of Iltutmish … Think over this. Do not leave my side. Cast away all desire of going to Lakhnawati.’