‘They were Indian kings’

IN HER book Culture of Encounters, Assistant Professor of South Asian history at Rutgers University, Newark, and postdoctoral fellow at Stanford University, Audrey Truschke attempts to clear up some popular and dangerous misconceptions. As a scholar of Sanskrit and pre-modern Indo-Persian, Braj Bhasha and modern Hindi and Urdu, she had been able to delve into hitherto inaccesible archives to prove that accounts of alleged Mughal intolerance are often exaggerated, if not outrightly false. In an email interview she writes that the Mughals were interested in Sanskrit for a plethora of reasons, including intellectual and religious curiosity and to better understand their subjects. Excerpts from the interview:

Your book challenges some deeply held beliefs on Mughal rule in India. In highlighting the role of Sanskrit scholars during the reigns of Akbar, Jehangir and Shah Jehan (1550-1650) you create a detailed narrative of a truly multicultural Mughal court. This belies prevailing historical accounts of the religious intolerance of the Mughals and their pursuit of policies that systematically attacked local populations. Were those accounts false?

Accounts of alleged Mughal intolerance are a mix of exaggerated, misleading and outrightly false [claims]. In some cases, alleged actions taken by the Mughals, especially vis-à-vis Hindus, have been exaggerated and even fabricated. That said, the Mughals were an expansionist dynasty, and they waged war ruthlessly. For example, Akbar’s siege of Chittor killed thousands, including many women who immolated themselves. More than a century later, Aurangzeb torched large swathes of the Deccan countryside (as did his Maratha opponents). Such actions, however, are only part of the story of the Mughal Empire, and my book focuses on an almost entirely forgotten aspect of Mughal cultural history that involved interactions across religious lines.

Far from being vilified for his excesses, Aurangzeb is presented as being misunderstood: ‘Even in our partial state of knowledge about his reign, we can safely posit that Aurangzeb pursued no overarching, coherent strategy of destroying Hindus or Hinduism.’ Doesn’t this fly in the face of historical evidence of his destruction of temples, killing of Hindus who refused to convert, the reimposition of the hated jaziya tax on Hindus and the banishing of Sanskrit intellectuals from the Mughal court?

If I thought that my arguments flew in the face of historical evidence, I would adjust them accordingly. On the contrary, historical research suggests that Aurangzeb’s more controversial actions were prompted by motivations other than anti-Hindu bigotry. For example, in the small number of cases where he approved the destruction of temples, the usual reason was not anti-Hindu sentiment, but because their associates had been involved with anti-state activities. In many cases, alleged ‘facts’ about Aurangzeb’s reign are simply untrue. He never pursued a large-scale conversion programme, for instance, and was deeply sceptical of Hindus who converted when political motives were at play. As I discuss in Culture of Encounters, Aurangzeb ceased to fund Sanskrit intellectuals (he did not ban them) for two reasons: to distinguish himself from Dara Shikoh and because Sanskrit intellectuals were already largely replaced at court by Hindi-speaking thinkers. I elaborate my views on Aurangzeb and the historiography of his reign in my second book, Aurangzeb: The Man and The Myth, to be published by Juggernaut later this year.

You have said the reputation of the Mughals as destroyers of Indian culture and society has more to do with contemporary attitudes in India towards Muslims, than with legitimate historical accounts. When did this vilifcation begin and can you give examples of misleading accounts that are popular today?

The vilification of the Mughals began during the colonial period. British colonialists needed to justify their rule over India, and one tactic was to declare their predecessors so detestable that even the exploitative horrors of colonialism were preferable. The British also benefited from reading Hindu-Muslim conflict into India’s past under the quite effective strategy of divide and conquer. Hindu-Muslim tensions are perhaps the most enduring legacy of the British rewrite of Mughal history, and one commonly hears people today repeating old colonial ideas about the Mughals’ alleged anti-Hindu biases, Hindu resistance to Mughal rule, and so forth.

What sources have you based your research on and why are they ignored by so many other scholars? Do you read Sanskrit and pre-modern Indian languages or did you depend on translations for your research? Why do you think so few Indian historians have corroborated your findings?

I read both Sanskrit and pre-modern Indo-Persian. I also read Braj Bhasha and modern Hindi and Urdu. In Culture of Encounters, I cite original language texts wherever possible, and I criticise scholars who rely on often-faulty English translations. Numerous texts upon which I rely in the book, especially Mughal translations of Sanskrit works, are both untranslated and unprinted. I conducted a year of archival work in India in order to consult manuscripts for the book, and I also cite manuscripts held today in the UK, France, US, and Qatar.

Most scholars lack the language skills necessary to conduct this sort of research. Knowledge of Sanskrit is especially rare among Mughal historians, who have consequently missed entirely the substantial archive of Sanskrit materials relevant to understanding the Mughals. My unique set of language skills are part of what makes my research ground- breaking and innovative.

By your account the Mughals spent time, money and sustained efforts over a hundred years from 1550 to 1650 to understand Sanskrit traditions, philosophies, religious epics and mathematical treatises. What motivated them?

The Mughals were interested in Sanskrit for a plethora of reasons, including intellectual curiosity and (for some) religious interests. But above all, I argue, the Mughals turned to Sanskrit to express certain political ambitions as rulers of the Indian Subcontinent. The early modern Sanskrit tradition possessed a highly sophisticated set of tools for expressing political sovereignty, calibrated to the Indian environment. In short, the Mughals turned to Sanskrit to figure out what it meant to be Indian kings.

You say ‘There is great potential for defusing India’s current communal tensions in the knowledge that Hindus and Muslims have not always been at one another’s throats and that there is a rich historical legacy of relationships between Hindus and Muslims that could replace such enmity.’ What did the Mughals do to maintain good relations with their subjects? And what lessons did you uncover in your research for diffusing tensions?

In Mughal times, most people did not see the world through the lens of Hindu versus Muslim. We need not see it that way either. The history of Mughal engagements with Sanskrit thinkers and texts in particular helps us break down a restrictive, communal reading of the Mughal past as Islamic history, and instead view this period as part of all Indians’ shared heritage. Additionally, if Hindus and Muslims were not always in conflict, then perhaps we can find ways to alleviate such tensions in the future. Many people in India today think that there is an unavoidable, almost natural clash between Hinduism and Islam. That is not true, and the history that I discuss in Culture of Encounters gives us a glimpse into another way of ordering our reality.

You warn that work on Indian history is increasingly threatened not just by poorly maintained records and manuscripts but ‘by those who cling to a fabricated past filled with religious conflict and display fierce animosity toward anybody who brings up evidence to the contrary. This is a climate where historical research regularly earns Indologists character assassinations and death threats.’ How concerned should we be that scholarship and intellectual debate are being stifled in India? And on a personal level, how do you react to critics of your book?

Personally, I am deeply alarmed at the curtailing of scholarly discussion and debate in India’s public sphere. Many in India and abroad are fighting this trend, and I admire those brave enough to speak out. But consider those who are choosing— often for understandable reasons—to remain silent. Imagine what we are missing because the Hindu Right in particular is unable to acknowledge the full truth about India’s own history. It is always sad when a sliver of society screams themselves hoarse asking for ignorance. It is tragic when they seem to get what they want.

Personally, I receive hateful emails and tweets on a regular basis, often attacking me on the basis of my gender, race, and perceived national and religious identities. I’ve also received a few death threats. Such reactions are unpleasant, but I take heart in the many communications I receive that engage with my work thoughtfully.

About The Author

Prabha Chandran