A Teardrop on the Cheek of Time: The Story of the Taj Mahal (37 page)

An exasperated Shah Jahan urged his son onwards, promising him the governorship of Samarkand, but the pleasure-loving Murad lacked his father’s romantic attachment to the wild, arid regions of their ancestors and refused, instead returning unbidden to Lahore. Shah Jahan angrily stripped him of his rank and banned him from the imperial court. However, others in the Moghul army shared Murad’s distaste for central Asian adventuring – a force of Rajputs retreated back to the Indus, only to be ordered to retrace their steps. As Lahori wrote, the region seemed too alien:
‘Natural love of home, a preference for the ways and customs of Hindustan, a dislike of the people … and the rigours of the climate’
weakened their resolve.

Aurangzeb did not lack resolve. Shah Jahan recalled him from Gujarat and gave him command of the expedition, but even he fared no better. Harassed and harried by Uzbeks and Turkomans, he could make no effective progress, though he won the amazed admiration of his troops for his bravery and piety when, in the thick of battle, he unfurled his mat to prostrate himself at the hour of evening prayer. By late summer 1647 he was pulling back to Kabul before winter snows cut off his retreat, but, even so, lost thousands of men in the chill mountains. The campaign had cost 20,000,000 rupees and not an inch of territory had been added to the Moghul Empire. It was the first serious military setback of Shah Jahan’s reign, as well as being an unwelcome call on a treasury already under pressure from the emperor’s building projects.

Other yet more serious and expensive failures followed, further stretching Shah Jahan’s resources. A decade previously Shah Jahan had retaken Kandahar on the empire’s western borders from the Persians. However, the Shah of Persia took advantage of the Moghuls’ Samarkand campaign to recapture Kandahar. In February 1649, after a siege of only fifty-seven days, the Moghul garrison of 7,000, as the chroniclers put it,
‘from want of spirit’
surrendered to the Persians in return for their lives.

Unaware that his garrison would capitulate so tamely, Shah Jahan had already, on hearing of the attack on the city, sent Aurangzeb at the head of 50,000 men to defend Kandahar. Prevented by harsh winter weather from a rapid crossing of the mountains, Aurangzeb did not reach Kandahar until mid-May, three months after the Persians had jubilantly occupied the city. Aurangzeb besieged Kandahar but, lacking heavy artillery, could not breach the walls and in early September gave up. Three years later, in 1652, he tried again, and again he failed, retreating on Shah Jahan’s orders after just two months. Shah Jahan blamed the failure squarely on Aurangzeb, writing resentfully to his son that
‘with such resources it was wonderful the fort was not reduced’. When Aurangzeb begged to be allowed to try again, his father bit back that had he judged Aurangzeb capable of taking Kandahar, ‘the troops should not have been recalled’
.

In December of that year, while passing through Agra, Aurangzeb went to his mother’s tomb to obtain ‘the blessings of visitation’ and perhaps to remember the parent whose love had been unconditional. He was dismayed to discover that the Taj Mahal was letting in water and wrote at once to Shah Jahan: ‘The buildings of these sacred precincts are as stable as they were when completed in the imperial presence. However, the dome over the blessed tomb leaks on the north side during the rainy season, and the four portals, most of the second-storey alcoves, the four small domes, the four northern vestibules … have got damp. The marble-covered roof of the large dome has leaked in two or three places during this season. It has been repaired, but we will have to wait and see what will happen next rainy season.’ He added disconsolately that the builders ‘admit their inability to come up with a plan for the large dome. Blessed saint, extend your hand! Such magnificent buildings have been afflicted so by the evil eye!’ He also reported that the garden across the Jumna from the Taj, known as the Mahtab Bagh, had been ‘completely inundated, and therefore it has lost its charm’, although the octagonal pool and the pavilion around it were still in good condition. He begged Shah Jahan to act, urging that ‘if a ray of imperial attention is cast to remedy the situation, it would be appropriate’. Major works to strengthen the foundations and waterproof the dome were clearly put in hand.

In 1653, Shah Jahan mounted a third attempt to reclaim Kandahar, this time entrusting his forces to Dara Shukoh. His eldest son, who spent much time with his father, rarely went into battle but had unwisely boasted that he could take Kandahar in a week. Shah Jahan gave the prince an army of 70,000, huge amounts of artillery and experienced European mercenary gunners to make good his claim, but even so it was no use. During a five-month onslaught Dara too failed to breach walls of dry clay that in places were nearly thirty feet thick. The Moghuls would never hold Kandahar again.

The three abortive attempts to retake the city had cost a colossal 120,000,000 rupees, over half Shah Jahan’s annual revenue. But loss of prestige was even more wounding than loss of money. Shah Jahan, who as a prince had known many military victories, resented failure. Yet his disappointment did not dent his affection for his eldest son and he gave Dara increasing powers. In 1654, during the celebrations for his sixty-fifth lunar birthday, Shah Jahan bestowed a special title on Dara reaffirming him as heir-apparent and ordered him
‘to seat himself on a golden chair near his own sublime throne’
. Portraits of Dara at this time depict him with a soft halo about his handsome head, further emphasizing his status.

None of this was lost on Aurangzeb, whom Shah Jahan had meanwhile appointed Governor of the Deccan for the second time and who had departed for the south. Neither father nor son could know that, although each had many years left to live, they would not meet face to face again. The strained relations between them contrast sharply and poignantly with the grief-stricken scenes when, thirty years earlier, Shah Jahan and Mumtaz had been forced to surrender Aurangzeb and Dara to the uncertain care of Nur Jahan following Shah Jahan’s rebellion. Now, just as when Jahangir despatched Shah Jahan to the Deccan, Shah Jahan showed Aurangzeb little affection, routinely slighting him, even accusing him of failing to send him the best mangoes from his favourite tree in the Deccan. When Aurangzeb asked for additional funds to finance his administration of the region, his father refused, urging him instead to raise money through more efficient tax gathering and by improving cultivation.

This did not appeal to Aurangzeb, who decided to refill his coffers through conquest. The wealthy kingdom of Golconda, which in 1636 had grudgingly yielded suzerainty to the Moghuls, seemed a promising target with its fabulous gold and diamond mines and indolent, luxury-loving sultan. Aurangzeb’s excuse for attack was that the tribute due from Golconda under the treaty of 1636 was late and, further, that Golconda had invaded the Carnatic – a region of small principalities between the Krishna and Kaveri Rivers south of the Deccan – without Moghul approval.

In early 1656, Aurangzeb despatched an army into Golconda under his sixteen-year-old son Muhammad Sultan and followed at the head of another large force. The fact that the nervous Sultan of Golconda had by now acceded to all his demands did not affect Aurangzeb’s plans. His orders to his son were to kill the sultan if he could, or, as he more gracefully expressed it, to ‘lighten his neck of the burden of his head’. The terrified sultan fled from his glittering new city of Hyderabad westwards to the fort of Golconda and sent gifts, conciliatory messages and even his mother to seek Aurangzeb’s mercy. He also sought help from Dara Shukoh, who, by nature pacific and forgiving, as well as disliking Aurangzeb as a bigot, intervened to frustrate his brother.

Aurangzeb was also busily lobbying his father, writing temptingly of Golconda’s fat riches and urging the kingdom’s annexation. ‘What shall I write about the beauty of this country’, he wheedled: ‘its abundance of water and population, its good air, and its extensive cultivation? … Such a money-yielding country!’ Despite the many demands on his depleted treasury, Shah Jahan was not, however, tempted. Instead he listened to Dara, who argued that it would be both more prudent as well as more just to reach a peaceful settlement with the sultan. Consequently, Shah Jahan refused to allow Aurangzeb to annex the kingdom. Instead, he ordered him to accept the sultan’s offer of indemnity and quit Golconda at once. He also accused Aurangzeb of seizing jewels belonging to the sultan, refused him any of the Golconda indemnity and rebuked him for exceeding his orders.

Slighted as he must have felt, Aurangzeb believed he had no option but to obey his father and reluctantly withdrew. However, he did so only after pressuring the sultan to marry one of his daughters to his own son, Muhammad Sultan. He also exacted a secret promise that the sultan would appoint his new son-in-law as his heir. Looking around for another victim, Aurangzeb’s ambitious gaze fell on Bijapur, which, like Golconda, had made terms with the Moghuls in 1636 and which, also like Golconda, had grown yet richer in the intervening years. The pretext for the invasion was internal strife following the death of Bijapur’s ruler in November 1656.

This time Shah Jahan gave Aurangzeb his head. One reason for the emperor’s change of mind was the arrival at his court of an ambitious, wealthy Persian adventurer, Mir Jumla, who had recently been vizier to the Sultan of Golconda until falling out with him. Mir Jumla artfully presented Shah Jahan with diamonds, rubies and topazes from Golconda and Bijapur.
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The glittering mounds convinced the emperor that the kingdoms were worth seizing rather than, as in the past, merely imposing Moghul overlordship and milking them for tribute. He appointed Mir Jumla to high office and sanctioned Aurangzeb to mount a full-blown invasion of Bijapur. If he was successful, Shah Jahan wrote to his son, he also had imperial permission to annex Golconda.

In early 1657, with Mir Jumla by his side, Aurangzeb advanced slowly and methodically, offering bribes of 2,000 rupees to every Bijapuri officer who defected with 100 men. Aurangzeb was just as personally courageous a fighter as his father – aged fourteen, he had coolly and famously faced a rampaging elephant about to trample him, hurling his spear at the enraged beast. However, his slow, systematic approach to campaigning was not Shah Jahan’s dashing, storming military style. Fearing the monsoon would begin before Aurangzeb had achieved his objectives, and influenced again by Dara, Shah Jahan changed his mind and ordered his son quickly to conclude a treaty whereby Bijapur agreed to pay the Moghuls a huge indemnity and to surrender some forts, and to withdraw, leaving Bijapur its independence. Once again Aurangzeb reluctantly acceded.

Aurangzeb’s Deccan campaigns had not been spectacular but they had further subdued the region and were some compensation for the central Asian misadventure and the disastrous attempts to regain Kandahar. With a brood of sons to conduct any further military actions that might be necessary, this should have been a period of tranquillity for Shah Jahan as he coasted towards old age, allowing him to pursue his grand architectural schemes and, during visits to Agra, to pray for Mumtaz in the marble mausoleum he had created. Instead, in September 1657, the sixty-five-year-old emperor fell dangerously ill. It was the sign of imperial mortality for which his three younger sons had been waiting and the end of his hopes for a contented, graceful old age.

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The influence of women on the politics of South Asia is often underestimated. Despite what some commentators consider to be cultures restricting women more than in the West, the Muslim countries of Pakistan and Bangladesh, as well as India and Sri Lanka, have all had women premiers – and, in Bangladesh’s case, two. That each was connected by birth or marriage to political dynasties says no more than that George W. Bush is George Bush Senior’s son.

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There are echoes here of scenes just a few years later in Restoration London, where Charles II’s many mistresses were equally well-known to the public. Nell Gwyn, the actress and former orange-seller, was besieged in her closed carriage by an angry mob who mistakenly believed Charles’s hated French mistress, Louise de Keroualle, was inside. Nell stopped her carriage and showed herself, calling out, ‘Pray be civil. It’s not the French but the English whore!’ The crowd applauded her on her way.

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Manucci wrote that Mir Jumla also presented Shah Jahan with ‘a large uncut diamond which weighed three hundred and sixty carats’ and Bernier wrote of a ‘celebrated diamond which had been generally deemed unparalleled in size and beauty’. This was probably the Koh-i-Nur, which had somehow come into Mir Jumla’s possession from Persia.