Rulers of India: Akbar

by G. B. Malleson

That system, tried for more than four centuries, had invariably broken down, if not in the hands of the promulgator of it, certainly in those of a near successor. Yet none of those who had gone before him had attempted any other. His illustrious grandfather, who had some glimmering of the necessity, had not been allotted the necessary time, for he too had had to conquer to remain. His father had more than almost any of the Afghán sovereigns who preceded him failed to read the riddle. He fell before a better general, and his rootless system died at once, leaving not a trace behind it. Penetrated, then, with the necessity of founding a system that should endure, and recognising very gradually, that such a system must be based on mutual respect, on mutual toleration regarding differences of race, of religion, of tradition; on the union of interests; on the making it absolutely clear that the fall of the keystone to the arch meant the fall of each stone which went to build up the arch; he sought, as I have said, during the first twenty years of his reign, discussions with his courtiers and the learned regarding the system which would best appeal to those sentiments in the conquered race which would convey to them confidence and conviction.

Before Akbar knew Abulfazl he had almost withdrawn from the task in despair. Instead of wise counsel he encountered only precepts tending to bigotry and intolerance. From his earlier counsellors there was absolutely no help to be hoped for. Akbar became wearied of the squabbles of these men; of their leanings to persecution for the cause of religious differences, even amongst Muhammadans. Before even he had recognised the broad charity of the teachings of Abulfazl he had come to the conclusion that before founding a system of government it would be necessary to wage war against the bigoted professors who formed a power in his own empire. 'Impressed,' writes Professor Blochmann, 'with a favourable idea of the value of his Hindu subjects, he had resolved when pensively sitting in the evenings on the solitary stone at Fatehpur-Síkrí, to rule with an even hand all men in his dominions; but as the extreme views of the learned and the lawyers continually urged him to persecute instead of to heal, he instituted discussions, because, believing himself to be in error, he thought it his duty as ruler to "inquire."' These discussions took place every Thursday night in the Ibádat-Khána, a building at Fatehpur-Síkrí, erected for the purpose.

For a time Abulfazl took but a subordinate part in the discussions, simply spurring the various Muhammadan sectaries to reply to and demolish each other's arguments. The bigotry, the narrowness, evinced by the leaders of these sectaries, who agreeing that it was right to persecute Hindus and other unbelievers, hurled charges of infidelity against each other, quite disgusted Akbar. Instead of 'unity' in the creed of Islám he found a multiplicity of divisions. He was further disgusted with the rudeness towards each other displayed by the several sectaries, some of them holding high office in the State, and he was compelled on one occasion to warn them that any one of them who should so offend in the future would have to quit the hall. At last, one memorable Thursday evening, Abulfazl brought matters to a crisis. Foreseeing the opposition it would evoke, he proposed as a subject for discussion that a king should be regarded not only as the temporal, but as the spiritual guide of his subjects.

This doctrine struck at the fundamental principle of Islám, according to which the Kurán stands above every human ordinance. The point of Abulfazl's proposition lay in the fact that in preceding discussions the Muhammadan learned had differed not only regarding the interpretation of various passages of the Kurán, but regarding the moral character of Muhammad himself. The storm raised by Abulfazl's motion was, therefore, terrible. There was not a doctor or lawyer present who did not recognise that the motion attacked the vital principle of Islám, whilst the more clear-sighted and dispassionate recognised that the assertions made in their previous discussions had broken through 'the strong embankments of the clearest law and the most excellent faith.'

But how were they to resist a motion which affected the authority of Akbar? In this difficulty they came to a decision, which, though they called it a compromise, gave away in fact the whole question. They drew up a document² in which the Emperor was certified to be a just ruler, and as such was assigned the rank of a 'Mujtáhid,' that is, an infallible authority in all matters relating to Islám. This admission really conceded the object aimed at by Abulfazl, for, under its provisions, the 'intellect of the just king became the sole source of legislation, and the whole body of doctors and lawyers bound themselves to abide by Akbar's decrees in religious matters.'

² Blochmann (Ain-í-Akbarí, p. xiv) calls it 'a document which I believe stands unique in the whole Church history of Islám.' He gives a copy of it at p. 186 of the same remarkable book.

'The document,' writes Abulfazl in the Akbarnámah, 'brought about excellent results: (1) the Court became a gathering-place of the sages and learned of all creeds; the good doctrines of all religious systems were recognised, and their defects were not allowed to obscure their good features; (2) perfect toleration, or peace with all, was established; and (3) the perverse and evil-minded were covered with shame on seeing the disinterested motives of his Majesty, and thus stood in the pillory of disgrace.' It has to be admitted that two of the Muhammadan sectaries who had been the leaders of the party which inclined to persecution, signed the document most unwillingly, but sign they did. Abulfazl's father, on the other hand, who had exhausted all the intricacies of the creed of Islám, and the dogmas of its several sects, signed it willingly, adding to his signature that he had for years been anxiously looking forward to the realisation of the progressive movement.

The signature of this document was a turning-point in the life and reign of Akbar. For the first time he was free. He could give currency and force to his ideas of toleration and of respect for conscience. He could now bring the Hindu, the Pársí, the Christian, into his councils. He could attempt to put into execution the design he had long meditated of making the interests of the indigenous princes the interests of the central authority at Agra. The document is, in fact, the Magna Charta of his reign.

The reader will, I am sure, pardon me if I have dwelt at some length on the manner in which it was obtained, for it is the keystone to the subsequent legislation and action of the monarch, by it placed above the narrow restrictions of Islám. It made the fortune of Abulfazl. It gained for him, that is to say, the lasting friendship of Akbar. On the other hand it drew upon him the concentrated hatred of the bigots, and ultimately, in the manner related in the last chapter, caused his assassination.