Book Review: Lisa Balabanlilar,Imperial Identity in the Mughal Empire: Memory and Dynastic Politics in Early Modern South and Central Asia

The two among the most used words in fashion in today’s historiography appear to be ‘identity’ and ‘legitimation’. Within their own proper senses, their use is unexceptionable. If, therefore, a scholar sets out to analyse how far the self-view (‘identity’) of the Imperial Mughal family invoked their pride in descent from the ‘world-conqueror’ Timur (‘legitimation’) and to determine how far this affected their practice, domestic, cultural and political, this should normally be deemed a welcome enterprise. Balabanlilar’s title (where, however, one wonders if, given the chronological sequence, it should have read ‘Central and South Asia’ rather than the reverse) and prefatory comments make it clear that this is precisely the purpose behind her work.

So far so good, even if it is questionable if as she concurs with the suggestion (p. 3) that historians have so far ignored the Timurid legacy (which, let us remember, includes slaughter and rapine on a large scale!) while considering Mughal imperial policies and cultural contributions. What one can say is that there does not seem to have been a single book exclusively devoted to the subject, and that should be sufficient justification for Balabanlilar’s volume.

Some disquiet, however, arises when one scrutinises the source-base of the work. The flap makes the claim that the book is based on ‘original Chaghatai Turkish and Persian sources’. The claim is, however, not borne out by references in the book and its bibliography. Only texts which have been translated into English have been cited. In such a book one expects the author to be well versed on Timur. But she cites (from an English translation) only Ibn ‘Arabshåh, an author who wrote in Arabic, and was very hostile to Timur, but, more importantly, is not trustworthy on matters of fact. She seems not to have read Yazdð’s Z]afarnåma, the quasi-official detailed biography of Timur, which was the principal source of knowledge about Timur at the Mughal court, and even today remains our most detailed source about him. It was published by Asiatic Society, Calcutta, 1888, in two volumes. Balabanlilar seems to know of it (see p. 198), only through a 48-page fragment (of relevance to architecture!) translated by W.M. Thackston, 1989, which too she does not actually appear to cite anywhere.

Båbur’s Memoirs in their original Turki text has been published by Mano, which the author cites, but she cites it along with only Thackston’s idiomatic but practically unannotated translation, which lacks the mass of information that A.S. Beveridg’s more literal translation, with extensive annotation, provides. Some Persian texts of Mughal-period histories are listed in the Bibliography but not actually cited. Låhorð’s Pådshahnåma has not been translated, when Balabanlilar makes a reference in her book to a statement in it (p. 56), and one tries to trace it to its source in the corresponding f.n. 80 on p. 171, it turns out that the reference is to a different book altogether, the English translation of Shåh Jahån Nåma, by ‘Inåyat Khån! As for secondary works, the well-known principal biographies of the Mughal emperors do not appear even in the Bibliography: so for major events we have usually references to R.P. Khosla, Mughal Kingship and Nobility (1973), a passable work, perhaps, but hardly an authority to be cited as a source.

Indeed, the author generally shows a surprising unfamiliarity with the bulk of Indian historiography on the Mughal Empire. Thus she misses some of the issues relating to the political content of Timurid heritage which have been raised. Did the Mughal king really enjoy ‘the towering eminence upon which the divine right of Timur’s blood had placed him’ (Rushbook Williams, An Empire Builder of the Sixteenth Century, reprint, Delhi n.d., p. 161); or was the Timurid tradition, at least in the post-Timur era, one of family and clan claims on sharing power with the king as Iqtidar Alam Khan has argued (The Political Biography of a Mughal Noble: Mun‘im Khan, New Delhi, 1973, pp. ix–xiii)? Neither work appears in Balabanlilar’s bibliography, nor is the question otherwise posed. Irfan Habib’s article, ‘Timur in the Political Tradition and Historiography of the Mughal Empire’, appears in her bibliography, but is never actually cited. Thus one of the points made there in some detail, viz. that the ill-repute of Timur for the massacre and vandalism perpetrated by him during his Indian campaign, 1397–99, generated a certain amount of caution on the part of the Mughals in using his name for legitimation purposes in India, is not touched upon at all by Balabanlilar. Incidentally, it is surprising that even after Habib’s detailed discussion of Abø Tålib’s Perisan translation of an ‘autobiography’ (malføz]åt) of Timur accompanied by the tuzukåt, comprising documents allegedly from Timur’s chancery, presented to Shåhjahån in 1637, Balabanlilar should still write (p. 68) that Shåh Jahån held the malføz]åt to be genuine, though, in fact, he had shown precisely the ‘healthy scepticism’ that, she says, he ought to have displayed.

This brings me to another unfortunate aspect of the book: its steady stream of slips on questions of fact. To take up a few: Båbur defeated ‘the Lodi kings of Delhi and Agra’ (not one king) (p. 28); Humayun had a portrait made ‘with his son Kamran Mirza’―who says he was his brother? (p. 63); ‘Abu al-Fadl Allami (was) a grandson of Sultan Husayn Bayqara of Heart’―not the son of a plebeian Shaikh Mubårak, rising to be Akbar’s minister and chronicler (p. 156, n. 6); Shåh Jahån was Jahångðr’s ‘eldest son’ (p. 56), and Aurangzeb ‘stopped the recording of most imperial transactions’ (p. 57). I pass by many others like ‘Guru Arjun Singh’ for Guru Arjan (p. 127), but the plum is on p. 135: It was Azam Shah, who won the war of succession, 1707–09, his ‘younger brothers’ Kam Baksh (so spelt) and Muhammad Muazzam being killed (p. 135). Khosla is cited for this information, although he writes correctly that Mu‘azzam, the eldest of the three brothers, was the victor (Khosla, pp. 111–13).

For a work that aims to analyse Mughal motivations, the author shows little understanding of Mughal administrative arrangements. On p. 130 we learn that mansab meant ‘title’ and jågðrs were ‘income producing properties’. The word ‘Appanages’ hardly offers a correct description of posts of governors of s[øbas (provinces) to which princes could be appointed. They normally did not have any more powers than ordinary governors, for provincial dðwåns (finance controllers) remained directly subordinate to the central Dðwån. Transcriptions of original words of verses first given in translation are so defective, inconsistent and full of plain misspellings that these serve little purpose. No consistent system of transliteration is followed in the book, even within the same passage, and the reasons why diacritical marks are dispensed with are not furnished.

Finally, a word of caution about the Mughals’ propensity for a ‘nomadic Court’ or ‘Peripatetic Court’ (pp. 71ff), which the author immediately relates to ‘nomadic mobility’ (p. 72). English govenors-general and viceroys annually moved with their huge staff and hangers-on from Calcutta to Shimla and back, a journey of over 2,000 miles, both ways, even before railways were laid out. Was it too a nomadic impulse or simply, as with the Mughal court, a desire to avoid the harshness of summer of the plains? Mughal emperors sometimes, though not annually, spent those summer months in Kabul or Kashmir, but this had little to do with any nomadism in their blood. Administrative and military reasons generally explain their other movements, as also in the case of later British satraps.

This reviewer must confess she agrees with very few of the propositions in this book. Nevertheless, raising the question of Timurid legacy and the degree of its relevance to the political and cultural aspects of the Mughal Empire is a worthy object in itself, and Balabanlilar’s effort needs, despite one’s disagreements, to be welcomed. The price is rather stiff, though.