SIKANDAR’S REIGN WAS a period of cultural efflorescence in the Sultanate. The sultan himself, according to Badauni, was a poet, who wrote in Persian under a pen-name. He was keenly interested in all literary and scholarly activities, as well as in music. Most commendably, he paid particular attention to the preservation of old manuscripts, and arranged for the translation of several Sanskrit texts into Persian, particularly an ancient Indian text on medicine. He was also a keen sportsman—‘he enjoyed himself in field sports,’ states Ni’matullah. Hunting and polo, the common pastimes of the Delhi sultans, were the favourite pastimes of Sikandar too, but he was also keen on fishing, particularly in summer, when he, according to Ni’matullah, often pitched his tents on the banks of the Yamuna, ‘whither he retired in order to avoid the heat, and amuse himself with fishing.’
But despite his benevolent disposition, wide-ranging cultural interests, and broad social concerns, Sikandar was a hyper-orthodox Muslim who regarded it his sacred duty to demolish temples and induce his non-Muslim subjects to become Muslims. ‘His zeal for Islam surpassed all bounds,’ comments Ni’matullah. He ‘entirely ruined the shrines of Mathura, the mine of heathenism, and turned the principal Hindu places of worship into caravanserais and colleges,’ reports Abdullah. ‘Their stone images were given to butchers to serve them as meat-weights.’
Several such acts of Sikandar are recorded in medieval chronicles. Once when he was told of a Brahmin who maintained that both Islam and Hinduism were true religions, and were merely different but equally valid means for god realisation, he sought the opinion of his theologians on whether the view was valid, and whether, if it was valid, the two communities should live in peace and harmony. The theologians asserted that the Brahmin’s view was most pernicious, and that he should be forced to become a Muslim, since he admitted the truth of Islam, and that he should be put to death if he refused. As the Brahmin refused to become a Muslim — he obviously saw no reason to change religion since his own religion was as true as Islam — he was put to death.
Some of the incidents of the sultan’s persecution of non-Muslims given in medieval chronicles might be exaggerations, meant to laud the sultan’s religious zeal, but there is little doubt that his passion for enforcing Islamic precepts was quite extreme. Indeed, some of his anti-infidel actions went beyond what was expected of even a most orthodox Muslim ruler, and were criticised even by some Muslim religious leaders. Thus, according to Abdullah, a cleric once told Sikandar ‘that it would be very improper for him to destroy ancient idol temples, and that he ought not forbid [Hindus] from performing their accustomed rites …’ Hearing this, the sultan ‘placed his hand on his dagger, and exclaimed, “You side with the infidels! I will first put an end to you, and then massacre the infidels.” But the cleric stood his ground, and replied: “Everyone’s life is in the hand of god … Whoever enters the presence of a tyrant must beforehand prepare himself for death.”’ The sultan then rose and left in a huff. But he took no action against the cleric.
As in persecuting non-Muslims, Sikandar was equally fervid in suppressing the semi-idolatrous practices of some Muslim sects, such as taking out processions with relics. He also forbade women from going on pilgrimages to the tombs of saints, as that was an unorthodox practice. At the same time he sought to promote Islam by building many new masjids throughout his dominions, manned by state-funded staff.
All this he did in conformity with what was expected of an orthodox Muslim ruler. There were however two matters in which the sultan deviated from the orthodox Muslim prescriptions — he shaved his beard, and he drank wine secretly. ‘You are a Mussulman monarch, and yet wear no beard,’ a Muslim sage once upbraided him. ‘This is contrary to the institutions of Islam, and particularly improper in a king.’ To that the sultan replied: ‘My beard is thin; if I allow it to grow it will look ill, and men will scoff at me.’ As for the sultan drinking wine, he did it for health reasons, claims Abdullah. Ni’matullah also states that Sikandar drank wine ‘as a medicinal tonic, in privacy, for the exhilaration of his spirit, and he did it in a decent and refined way.’
SIKANDAR CONDUCTED HIMSELF decorously at all times, and was formal even in his conversation. ‘The sultan’s conversation,’ states Abdullah, ‘was under discipline, and he was never desultory.’ And just as Sikandar was reserved and ceremonial in all that he did, he required his courtiers to observe formal etiquette in his presence. While the court practices under Buhlul were informal, and the sultan was then considered as no more than a primus inter pares , a first among equals, the scene changed altogether under Sikandar. The sultan now elevated himself to a far higher plane than his courtiers, who were required to treat him with high respect, and conduct themselves with becoming decorum. ‘Every chief had his assigned place in his presence, where he always stood,’ notes Abdullah. And ‘every work had its appointed time,’ adds Ni’matullah.
These were not whimsical acts of the personal vanity of the sultan, but expressions of a well-considered policy to enforce discipline and efficiency in administration. A crucial aspect of this policy was that Sikandar required his provincial governors to submit their accounts regularly for auditing by central government officers. Defaulters and embezzlers were sternly punished.
Further, to keep track of all that was happening everywhere in the empire, Sikandar set up an elaborate intelligence network, so that well-informed, prompt and effective action could be taken to redress abuses and rectify faults. ‘He possessed a retentive memory,’ states Abdullah. ‘He daily received an account of the prices of all things, and an account of what had happened in the different districts of his empire. If he perceived the slightest appearance of anything wrong, he caused instant inquiries to be made about it.’ And when he sent his army on a campaign, he kept in constant touch with it twice every day, in the morning and the evening, whatever be the distance involved, sending instructions to it and receiving information from it. In all this Sikandar seems to have modelled himself on the policies and conduct of Ala-ud-din Khalji.
Sikandar, according to Ni’matullah, ‘executed all his affairs with discernment, keenness and penetrating insight.’ And he was untiring in his work. ‘On occasions he remained so engrossed in administrative work from morning till evening and the hour for retiring, so he performed all the five daily prayers at one and the same [time and at the same] place,’ states Ni’matullah. Official work often kept him awake till late at night, sometimes even till daybreak, so he had to catch up with sleep by taking a nap at midday. Sikandar, according to Abdullah, ‘generally preferred the night for listening to the petitions of the needy; he also devoted a portion of it for regulating the affairs of the empire, and for writing firmans to the governors of provinces, and letters to the monarchs of the time.’
THE MAIN FOCUS of Sikandar’s reign was on tightening the administration of the state rather than on expanding its territory. And, as in everything else, he was cautious and deliberate in his military policy also. He launched no major campaigns of conquest, sought no territory beyond what he could effectively govern. Rather than waging wars against his adversaries, he endeavoured to win them over through conciliatory policies. ‘He put an end to wars and disputes with the other monarchs and nobles of the age, and closed the road of contention and strife,’ states Abdullah. ‘He contented himself with the territory bequeathed to him by his father, and passed the whole of his life in the greatest safety and enjoyment.’
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