Akbar and Aurangzeb: A comparative analysis of their rule

Raziuddin Aquil

The Mughal emperors Jalaluddin Muhammad Akbar (1556-1605) and Aurangzeb Alamgir (1658-1707) offer two contrasting styles of statecraft. However, much of what we know about them is dictated by modern ideological positions and motivated readings of important political events. For Hindu communalists, the re-imposition of the discriminatory tax, jizya, by Aurangzeb in the year 1679 was the turning point in the history of the Mughal empire–religious bigotry led to the alienation of the Rajputs, Marathas, and Hindus generally, which, in turn, hastened the disintegration of the empire. For Muslim separatists, the growing spirit of opposition to the empire among Hindus left Aurangzeb with no option but to appeal to the loyalty of Muslims. Secularists have also followed hackneyed stereotypes, with simple binaries: Akbar was good and secular; Aurangzeb bad and narrow-minded. There is a need to rise above these ideologically determined propositions and, instead, attempt to understand religious policies of the two emperors in their contemporary political and social contexts–chronologically accurate and with due regard to the differing personalities involved.

The image of Akbar was not made in a day. The first couple of decades of his reign do not inspire confidence. He was brutal in eliminating his rivals and typically used religious symbols to justify political actions. A man is recognized by the quality of his enemies. One may recall here Maharana Pratap’s struggle against Akbar. Though the Rajput war-lord is much celebrated in later Hindu memory, he was nothing compared to what Aurangzeb faced in Shivaji and his formidable Marathas. If Akbar were ruling a century later and had to deal with the kinds of problems Aurangzeb encountered, perhaps he would also have done the same things and yet appear reasonable and legitimate: aggressive action and religious justification to deal with the adversaries–big ones at the Deccan frontier (Shi‘ite Sultans, Marathas, Portuguese) as well as internal enemies (Jats, Sikhs, and Satnamis, to name just a few). Thus, augmenting economy, expanding frontiers and tackling internal dissensions were among the major challenges confronting Aurangzeb. He had come to power invoking religious sentiments, which could not have helped him in resolving the problems facing the empire.

The greatness of a ruler lies in the display of his magnanimity at the height of his power, marked by extraordinary kindness and enormous generosity. Once all the powerful hurdles were removed and the empire was established on a firm-footing, Akbar spoke of sulh-i kul, or peace with all. He provided considerable space to people representing different religious and ethnic communities–Rajputs, Shias, Parsis, Jains, Christians–and picked up the best and unique features of their divergent practices. A ruler is also known by the merits of his associates. The posterity would remember Akbar through the Navaratnas around him: men of excellence in a cross-section of vocation and expertise–polymath Abdur Rahim Khan-i Khanan, revenue-administrator Todarmal, historian Abu’l Fazl, poet Faizi, technocrat Fatehullah Shirazi, man Friday Man Singh, musician Tansen, poet Surdas, and jester Birbal. Besides, Ram-bhakt par excellence Tulsidas wrote the foundation text of a refashioned Hindu tradition, Ramcharitmanas, under Akbar, and Abdul Qadir Badauni, a conservative Sunni Muslim scholar, was forcibly assigned the responsibility for Persian translations of Ramayana and Mahabharata.

True, an inclusive approach to the question of religion in politics sets Akbar apart from other rulers. Aurangzeb, by contrast, sought justification of his actions in a narrow Sunni sectarian interpretation of Muslim law, shari‘at, failing in his mission the second time and bringing a bad name for Islam in the process. Even though the composition of his ministers show considerable diversity, with a large number of Rajput, Maratha and other Indian mansabdars occupying high positions, his desperate imposition of jizya and some such rhetorical pronouncements created the image of a bigoted ruler, working to establish Islam as a state religion. And, unlike Navaratnas of Akbar’s kind, Aurangzeb gathered around himself Sunni theologians, whom he otherwise disliked. Instead of a religion-driven ideology and crude propaganda, he needed a broad political vision or an inclusive political theory. The model of Akbar was there to follow, as was intelligently done by his son and successor, Jahangir (1605-1627). Commonsense says Dara Shukoh, the eldest son and heir-apparent of Shah Jahan (1627-1658), could have carried forward the broad-based tradition of governance–taking along all sections of the society, keeping equi-distance from politically active sectarian groups and not allowing them to dictate policy. 

Rulers of our time can style themselves accordingly: abuse religion to remain in power, creating anarchy all around, or establish law and order in such a way that there's space and respect for all the diversity in society, and law and justice machinery doesn't discriminate on the basis of religion.