Elsewhere in India too the relationship between the Hindu and Muslim ruling classes was quite fluid. Hindu chieftains and zamindars in Muslim kingdoms generally held virtually independent sway over extensive territories, and they were not usually interfered with by the sultans as long as they regularly paid to the sultans the tributes and taxes due to them. This was not, however, a relationship of mutual trust and compliance, for payments from the local chieftains often had to be exacted from them by force by the sultans, and payments were usually withheld by the chieftains whenever the power of the overlord weakened. But this was the normal conduct of local chieftains everywhere in India, irrespective of whether the king was a Hindu or a Muslim.
MEDIEVAL ISLAMIC SOCIETY was basically egalitarian. It had no caste-like divisions, so any person of any social or racial background could aspire to any position in it, including that of the sultan. In principle no one could ascend the throne by birthright, but could do so only by virtue of his merit or power, and on being acknowledged as sultan by the leaders of the Muslim community.
This political fluidity was the main reason for the many violent succession conflicts in the history of the Delhi Sultanate. Indeed, such conflicts were considered as the legitimate means for proving the capabilities of the contenders. And proving one’s merit for the throne often meant exterminating one’s rivals. Peaceful succession to the throne was rare in the Sultanate — or, for that matter, in Hindu kingdoms, in Vijayanagar, for instance. Though there were a few instances of the courtiers choosing the sultan by consensus from among the rival contenders, normally they had no choice but to acknowledge as sultan the man who gained the throne, by inheritance or by force. The courtiers then affirmed their allegiance to the new sultan by taking a formal oath of fealty to him.
Initially, till the reign of Balban, there was no great status difference between the sultan and his nobles; the sultan was then a primus inter pares , a first among equals, more a leader than a ruler. Later however the sultans generally claimed that the occupation of the throne endowed them with farr , divine effulgence, which distinguished them from all other people. Balban further claimed that he was ruling as the vicegerent of god on earth, thereby implying that the sultan had the divine right or sanction to be the ruler, and that to disobey him would be to disobey god. But this quasi-divine attribute of the sultan, in Balban’s view, was as much a responsibility as a privilege, and he maintained that one gains the effulgence of the sultan not by just sitting on the throne, but by the manner in which he rules, serving the interests of the people and ensuring their welfare. In his view only those rulers in whose kingdom there was not a single naked or hungry man deserved to be called a sultan.
Ala-ud-din Khalji also claimed absolute royal power, but he based that claim on realpolitik, not on any theological principle. As he once candidly told a qazi, he did not know, and did not care for, theological prescriptions, but did what was essential ‘for the good of the state and the benefit of the people.’ Ala-ud-din in fact, despite his dictatorial nature, was one of the few Delhi sultans who showed a genuine concern for the welfare of his subjects, and did what he could for the betterment of the conditions of their life.
Ala-ud-din was a political realist. He held that whatever be the Islamic theory of monarchy, and whatever be the pretence of sultans, in reality the basis of royal authority was the sultan’s military might, his ability to coerce others to submit to his will. Though there were in Islam various socio-religious prescriptions about the scope of the sultan’s power, and about what he should and should not do, most sultans in practice treated their kingdom as their private possession, which they could rule without any constraints whatever. The powers that an individual sultan exercised were limited only by what he was capable of exercising. In theory, the primary duty of the sultan was to protect his subjects and to provide for their welfare, but in practice his primary concern — often his sole concern — was to preserve and expand his power. According to Barani, haughtiness and egomania characterised the conduct of most sultans.
IN THEORY, SULTANS everywhere in the Muslim world were the proconsuls of the Caliph, who was the head of all Muslims throughout the world, in temporal as well as in spiritual matters. The practice in the Muslim world indeed matched this principle in the early period of Muslim history, when Muslim political power was largely confined to Arabia and its adjacent lands, and there was only one Caliph. Later however, as the Muslim empire expanded into the lands of several other races and cultures, and the religion itself split into different sects and factions, there also came to be several Caliphs, and their status declined to that of mere figureheads. Still, Muslim kings everywhere generally continued to acknowledge, at least nominally, the Caliph as their overlord, and they continued to receive honours from him with a show of deep respect. It was useful to do so, for it legitimised their rule and validated their policies and actions, particularly in the eyes of orthodox Muslims. The sultans therefore usually included the Caliph’s name in the khutba recited in their kingdoms, and had his name inscribed on the coins they issued. Several Delhi sultans in fact expressly sought investiture by the Caliph, and some, notably Muhammad Tughluq, were ostentatiously demonstrative in displaying their subservience to him, though in reality they ruled as totally independent autocrats.
Rajas had no such pretence of grand, transnational affiliations. But in other respects Hindu kingdoms were also marked by the dichotomy between the professions and the practices of their rulers. The political ambiance of Hindu kingdoms therefore was not very different from that of Muslim kingdoms, in broad terms though not in detail. The primary concern of rajas, as of sultans, was for the preservation and expansion of their power, rather than for the welfare of their subjects, as they generally professed. As a medieval Indian saying had it,
What matters it to us
whether Rama reigns
or Ravana reigns?
That was the reality. But kings, particularly rajas, generally professed commendably high ideals, which are fascinating in themselves, though they had little connection with political reality. Thus in a story told by Muhammad Ulfi, a fourteenth century chronicler, a Hindu raja asserts: ‘It is the paramount duty of all those in whose hands authority and power are placed, to walk in the path of justice and benevolence, in order that those who are weak should be strengthened and protected by the law, and that those who are wealthy should enjoy their riches in peace and security.’
Similar professions were made by king Krishnadeva of Vijayanagar in his poetic opus Amukta-malyada . Pay particular attention to the welfare of your subjects, he counsels rajas; keep the company of sages and scholars; cultivate piety; avoid vices like womanising and gambling; ensure administrative efficiency and strictly supervise the work of officers; and maintain a strong army as well as an efficient spy network. Krishnadeva further directs kings to promote the prosperity of their kingdom by constructing irrigation networks to facilitate the expansion of agriculture, and by encouraging trade, particularly foreign trade. They are also advised to try to reform criminals, rather than punish them summarily, and that in any case their punishments should not be too harsh. Above all, kings should tend their kingdoms with devoted care, like a farmer tending his field with care, the raja advises.
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