Within four years Bairam Khan had laid the foundations of the Mogul empire. Its limits were as yet restricted. The Mogul pale only covered the Punjab, the northwest provinces, and Oude; it is only extended from the Indus to the junction of the Jumna and Ganges. On the south it was bounded by Rajputana. It included the three capitals of Lahore, Delhi, and Agra. So far it coincided with the kingdom of Ala-ud-din, who conquered the Deccan and Peninsula.
At the end of the four years Akbar was a young man of eighteen. He resolved to throw off the authority of his guardian. He carried out his designs with the artifice of an Asiatic. He pretended that his mother was sick. He left the camp where Bairam Khan commanded, in order to pay her a visit. He proclaimed that he had assumed the authority of Padishah; that no orders were to be obeyed save his own. Bairam Khan was taken by surprise. Possibly, had he known what was coming, he would have put Akbar out of the way; but his power was gone. He tried to work upon the feelings of Abkar; he found that the Padishah was inflexible. He revolted, but was defeated and forgiven. Akbar offered him any post save that of minister; he would be minister or nothing. In the end he elected to go to Mecca, the last refuge for Mussulman statesmen. Everything was ready for his embarkation; suddenly he was assassinated by an Afghan. It was the old story of Afghan revenge. He had killed the father of the assassin in some battle: in revenge the son had stabbed him to death.
Akbar was now free to act. The political situation was one of extreme peril. The Afghans were fighting one another in Kabul in the northwest; they were also fighting one another in Behar and Bengal in the southeast. When he marched against one, his territories were exposed to the raids of the other. Meantime his Mogul officers often set his sovereignty at defiance; when brought to task they broke out in mutiny and rebellion. Two events at this period will show the actual state of affairs.
Far away in the south of Rajputana lies the remote territory of Malwa. It was originally conquered by Ala-ud-din. During the decline of the Tughlaks the governor Malwa became an independent ruler. At the beginning of the reign of Akbar, Baz Bahadur was ruler of Malwa. He was a type of the Mussulman princes of the time; no doubt he went to mosque; he surrounded himself with Hindu singing and dancing girls; he became more or less Hinduized. Akbar sent an officer named Adham Khan to conquer Malwa. Adham Khan had no difficulty. Baz Bahadur abandoned his treasures and harem and fled. Adham Khan distributed part of the spoil to the Padishah. Akbar could not brook such disobedience. Notwithstanding the distance he hurried to Malwa. He received his rightful share of the plunder; he professed to accept the excuses of the defaulter. When he returned to Agra he recalled Adham Khan to court; he sent another governor to Malwa. Adham Khan obeyed; he went to Agra; he found that he had lost favor. Commands were given to others. He could get nothing. He was driven mad by delay and disappointment. He did not suspect Akbar; he threw the blame upon the minister. One day he went to the palace; he stabbed the minister to death in the hall of audience; he ran up to an outer terrace. Akbar heard the uproar; he rushed in and beheld the bleeding corpse. He saw the stupefied murderer on the terrace; he half drew his sword, but remembered himself. Adham Khan seized his hands and begged for mercy. Akbar shook him off and ordered the servants to throw him from the terrace. The order was obeyed; Adham Khan was killed on the spot.
Another officer, named Khan Zeman, played a similar game in Behar. He was warned that Akbar was on the move; he escaped punishment by making over the spoil before Akbar came up. This satisfied Akbar; he returned part of the spoil and went back to Agra. Henceforth Khan Zeman was a rebel at heart. Some Usbeg chiefs revolted in Oudh; they were joined by Khan Zeman. Akbar was called away to the Punjab by an Afghan invasion; on his return the rebels were in possession of Oudh and Allahabad. Akbar marched against them in the middle of the rains. He outstripped his army; he reached the Ganges with only his bodyguard. The rebels were encamped on the opposite bank; they had no fear; they expected Akbar to wait until his army came up. That night Akbar swam the river with his bodyguard. At daybreak he attacked the enemy. The rebels heard the thunder of the imperial kettle-drums; they could not believe their ears. They fled in all directions. Khan Zeman was slain in the pursuit. The other leaders were taken prisoners; they were trampled to death by elephants. Thus for a while the rebellion was stamped out.
These incidents are only types of others. In plain truth, the Mussulman power in India had spent its force. The brotherhood of Islam had ceased to bind together conflicting races; it could not hold together men of the same race. The struggle between Shiah and Sunni was dividing the world of Islam. Moguls, Turks, and Afghans were fighting against each other; they were also fighting among themselves. Rebels of different races were combining against the Padishah. Meantime any scruples that remained against fighting fellow-Mussulmans were a hinderance to Akbar in putting down revolts. The Mussulman power was crumbling to pieces. The dismemberment had begun two centuries earlier in the revolt of the Deccan. Since then the strength which remained in the scattered fragments was wasted in wars and revolts; the whole country was drifting into anarchy.
No one could save the empire but a born statesman. Akbar had already proved himself a born soldier. Had he been only a soldier he might still have held his own against Afghans and Usbegs from Peshawur to Allahabad. Had he been bloodthirsty and merciless, like Bairam Khan, he might have stamped out revolt and mutiny by massacre and terrorism. But he would have left no mark in history, no lessons for posterity, no political ideas for the education of the world. He might have made a name like Genghis Khan or Timur; but the story of his life would have dropped into oblivion. After his death every evil that festered in the body politic would have broken out afresh. His successors would have inherited the same wars, the same revolts, and the same mutinies; unless they had inherited his capacity, they would have died out in anarchy and in revolution.
Akbar had never been educated. He had never learned to write, nor even to read. He had not gone with his father to Persia, where he might have been schooled in Mussulman learning. He had spent a joyless boyhood with a cruel uncle in Kabul; he had been schooled in nothing but war. But he had listened to histories, and pondered over histories, until grand ideas began to seethe in his brain.
The problem before him was the resuscitation of the empire, or rather the creation of a new empire out of the existing chaos. Fresh blood was wanted to infuse life and strength into the body politic; to enable the Mogul Shiahs to subdue the Afghan Sunnis. Akbar saw with the eye of genius that the necessary force was latent in the Rajputs. Henceforth he devoted all the energies of his nature to bring that force into healthy play.
In 1575 Akbar was about thirty-four years of age. Twenty years had passed away since the boy had been installed as padishah. He had not as yet conquered Kabul in the northwest, nor Bengal in the southeast; he had not made any sensible advance into the Deccan. But he had gained a succession of victories. He had restored order in the Punjab and Hindustan. He had subdued Malwa, Guzerat, and Rajputana. Many Rajputs were still in arms against him; he had nothing to fear from them. He had fixed his capital at Agra; his favorite residence, however, was at Fathipur Sikri, about twelve miles from Agra.