Panipat to Delhi - Rise and Fall of the Turks

India falls to Islam

In the year 570 AD, a man named Muhammad ibn ‘Abdullāh was born in Mecca. He was to rise and become one of the most influential figures in history. After his death in 632, his word spread rapidly, westward across the northern African coast as far as Spain, eastwards consuming the Sassanids of Persia into the Sindh, the northwestern frontier of India, by 712AD. The word of Islam and its swords were held at bay by the immense armies of the Rajput clans of the Gurjara-Pratiharas and perhaps in part by the lack of economic incentive to invade India, since a trade route to China was already established via the Sindh.

As the first Arab generals looked onto the India proper, a tripartite struggle was unfolding for the control of Kanauj and the heartlands of the Indo-Gangetic plains. The Palas of Bengal, the Rashtrakutas of central India and the Pratiaharas of Malwa and Rajasthan were the key players in this struggle. Evenly matched, they waged a war of attrition that left all of them exhausted and fragmented. By the beginning of the eleventh century, there was a void in the political landscape of northern India.

Further north in the region of the Oxus, the Arab-Islamic control of the Islamic frontiers had waned from the days of the initial conquest in the early eighth century, and in its place emerged the Turkic-Islamic kingdoms of Afghanistan and central Asia. Mahmud of Ghazni, one such warlord, laid destitute the temple-towns of Northern India in order to replenish his treasury. It was a repetition of an old tradition of nomadic people of the Central Asian plains raiding and pillaging the corpulent treasure troves of the plains. One key difference was that these people were now settled in kingdoms sprung from the retreating Arab-Muslim armies. These persistent raids were the precursor to the Turkish invasion that followed.

Almost two hundred years later, having crossed the Gomal pass, Muhammad Ghuri and his generals squared off against the confederacy of Rajput states under the leadership of Prithviraj Chauhan. The two battles of Panipat in 1191 and 1192, and the eventual victory of the Ghorids paved way for the Islamic-Turkic superiority and the subsequent dominion over northern India for almost five and a half centuries by Islamic monarchs.

So what were the reasons for the continued subjugation of the Indian princely states by the Central Asian forces over 500-600 years? And why was the initial struggle not as drawn out as one would expect from the fearful account of the Arabs describing the armies of the northern kingdoms? It is also of great significance to consider that within ten years of the time the Delhi Sultanate was established with Qutb-ud-din-Aybak as Sultan, Chengis Khan and his Mongol hordes overran the homeland of these Turkic invaders. And for its entire lifespan, the Delhi sultanate fended off Mongol incursions into India, before finally falling to the armies of Amir Timur in 1398 AD. In this context, how were the Turks able to withstand a force as great as that of the Mongols, who had overrun China, Central Asia and even eastern-Europe?

In order to answer these questions, I will review Simon Digby’s ‘War-Horse and Elephant in the Delhi Sultanate.’ I will also try to incorporate commentaries on the same issue by historians like Thomas Trautmann and Romila Thapar in attempting to gauge the merits of the arguments of the book.

The Rise of the Turks

Several theories have been proposed by historians in order to explain the questions posed in the introduction. Lack of nationalism, the wide public hostility towards Hindu caste-based elitism, or the notion of the pastoral-nomadic Turks as the masters of mounted warfare are some of the key ideas attributed to the causes of their rise to power. As far as the technological superiority of the Turks in matter of warfare is concerned, Irfan Habib’s claim that several inventions important to mounted warfare were introduced into India at this time and were not available before is investigated. These include the stirrup and the horseshoe, the presence and absence of which could prove to be a big determinant in the outcome of a military struggle. However, the depiction of these items in India predating the Turkic invasion brings into question the claim.

The Adab al-Harb wa’l-shaja’a by Fakhr-I Mudabbir, a Turkish contemporary manual of war is also investigated for any obvious technological superiority of weapons. A detailed list of swords and bows is made and compared and contrasted. With respect to bows, no such conclusive evidence is noted; albeit the bows of the Ghorid arsenal are consider having better range. It is also argued, that perhaps the Indian armies had better access to materials from which the better bows could be made. With respect to the sword, there is clear evidence that the Indians had better swords. Held in high esteem world over and traded in market places outside India, the steel workmanship of the Indian sword-smith is well-renowned at this time.

The author argues that the defeat of the Ghurids in 1191 and the immediate turn of events the year-after, indicate that there was no inherent technological advantage in the favor of the Turks. I find this to be a flawed argument at best. Without a deeper look at the differences in the lot of the Rajput forces from the first engagement to the second, it would be hasty to conclude anything.

It is then argued – and this remains the cornerstone of the author’s claim – that it was the supply of war-resources which differentiated the Turks from their opponents in the battlefield, especially, the continued acquisition of war-horses and elephants. Although a sound argument, I fail to see the complete legitimacy of it as argued, primarily in relation to their rivalry with the Mongols. The Mongols had far better access to the horse-rearing belts of central Asia, and yet proved unable to overthrow the Delhi Sultanate for 180 years. Surely, one must account for other factors leading to the military superiority of the Turks over the Mongols. With regards to their conflict with the Hindus, however, this argument has substantial merit.

Al Barani’s chronicle of the Sultan Balban seems to indicate that the supply of horses with the Rajput armies was severely compromised and that theirs was an army primarily of foot-soldiers. A strong point is made which shows that the Sultans of Delhi had control over regions which were very conducive to the breeding of superior war-horses. And similar case can be made by the possession of the forests of Bengal and the concomitant Elephants by the Turks. Essentially the first chapter concludes by saying that the Turks, even if deprived of their Mongol sources, had sources of their own of excellent war-horses, whereas their Hindu counterparts were now deprived of these sources.

The Veritable Sea of Horsemen

Not having seen horses in numbers greater than a dozen, it is very hard for me to imagine the armies of Qutlugh Khwaja of the Chagatai Khanate (Mongol) laying siege on Delhi with his alleged ‘seven hundred thousand horses” and the equally large Turkic force defending the city. This is the rendition of Barani’s testimonial to the size of the armies of the Mongols and the Turks. Although it is seen to be an exaggerated number, but the scale of these numbers were perhaps not off by an order of magnitude. Hence, we are presented by the sheer size of the Sultan’s army, thereby laying credence to the importance of the supply of these animals.
It is argued that traditionally horses of the Indian plains were considered inferior and the only belt where superior horses were bred was in North-western India. The Hindi horses as these breeds were called were fit to be war-horses, and yet they were considered inferior to Persian of Arab breeds. The discourse then extends to the two modes of importation of these animals: Sea and land.

There seems plenty of evidence to indicate that horses were imported by sea into the Indian subcontinent at the time of the Delhi Sultanate. However, the trade doesn’t seem to be the exclusive prerogative of the sultans. Evidence is furnished which indicates that the southern Kings also engaged in this trade. The terms of trade, in that the kings paid for horses which didn’t survive the voyage, seem to demonstrate the desperation in the need for these animals. The provenance of these horses was the Arabian peninsula, Persia, etc. Therefore, even though the author substantiates the claim that there was a prominent trade in horses, he fails to show how the Hindu Kingdoms did not have sufficient access to this mode of supply.

Pertaining to land trade, the author brings our attention to one of the questions I had raised earlier. How did the Sultans ward off the Mongols with their vastly better and prolific access to horse breeding regions of central Asia? The mulk-i Baladast from whence came the Baladasti horses were controlled by the Chaghata’I Khanate and yet the author states that they did not block this trade to their obvious rivals in India. Was there fragmented political interest amongst the Mongols? Or were they wholly unaware of the impact of exporting hundreds of thousands of horses into India and its consequences on the military conflict between the Mongols and Delhi? This question is left wholly unexplored, the author is satisfied that regardless of this ambiguity that such trade did indeed exist and was substantial enough to be a determinant.

In addition to the tatari and baladasti, there is mention of Kohi/Pahari horses which are found in great supply at the stables of the Ray of Arangal. It is argued that the source of this breed of these horses is in the north-eastern Himalayas. This is further substantiated by the great numbers of horses in Bengal. Of course, Bengal at this time is a under the over-lordship of Delhi and is an Islamic state - the Bengal sultanate. As the possible source of these horses, the author cites the disastrous campaign of Muhammad Bakhtyar Khilji into Tibet, in the makets of which a great trade in excellent horses was common. The account indicates that in the highlands of Tibet and thereabouts lay the source of the Pahari breeds.

Finally, the author cites the practice of neighboring kingdoms to give tribute to Delhi in terms of imported war-horses. This further corroborates the suspicion that the importation of these breeds was not exclusive to Delhi. However, it would appear that the military superiority Delhi forced the Hindu kingdoms to cede tributes of war-horses. It is here, I note, that the difference in the supply of war-horses for the sultanates as compared to the Hindu kingdom is best illustrated. In essence, it was the better funded and better supplied stables of the Sultanate which gave them dominion. However, this still doesn’t answer the question of the initial subjugation of Prithviraj Chauhan.

Elephas Maximus Indicus

“A king who always cares for the elephants like his own sons is always victorious & will enjoy the friendship of the celestial world after death." - Kautiliya

Modern historian would beg to differ. It is widely held belief that the war-elephant no matter how well trained is of little strategic significance on the battle field. Once injured or demoralized, they are prone to fleeing often backing into their own troops and causing havoc. The Greeks document the use of war-pigs whose squeals would cause disarray among the ranks of elephants. The Romans were known to just make way for the elephant charge. Prof Basham, a strong critic of the use of elephants in the field of battle, states that their use was a wholly misguided endeavor on the part of the Indians, and was tragically inherited by the Turks. However the historical evidence of Delhi seems to indicate that the sultans would perhaps agree whole-heartedly with Kautilya.

The elephant had many roles in medieval warfare – for charging the enemy lines, as battering rams, for carrying heavy indivisible loads, carrying important generals and kings, as engineering units that helped bridge rivers. And of course, there was the element of fear, strategically sometimes compared to tanks (albeit inaccurately), elephants could be symbol of power that struck fear into the heart of the foot-soldier or disconcert the enemy horses. Each war-elephant could house on its back an armored enclosure to hold eight-ten men who could shower artillery and arrows on the enemy below. The Turks’ fortune in war, in any case, was not always ensured by their use of war-elephants, and their superiority in war cannot be indisputably attested to.
As for their numbers, accounts vary from 400-30,000. The pil-khanaa, the stables for war-elephants, more realistically would have had at most a thousand animals. Specific citation of larger numbers are attributed to the Ghorid armies a couple of centuries before the two Battles of Panipat. The large differences from the Ghorid pil-khana could be attributed to environmental changes over the span of the intervening centuries. For the period of our concern, the numbers cited for specific events are as follows: 400-500 on Feroz Shah Tughlaq’s march on Bengal, 750 or more in the pil-khana of Muhammad bin Tughlaq, 500 with Akbar, etc. The key takeaway is that their numbers were not as vast as that of the horses, which is clearly understandable. This is further attested by Al-Umari’s testimonial about the Sultan’s three thousand elephants and the consequent drain on the royal treasury for the upkeep of such giant beasts!

From trade, conquest, tribute and taming in the wild the pil-khana drew its provenance. The rebellion of Bengal, one of the primary sources of war-elephants, and the economic woes of the sultanate are clearly visible in the reducing size of the pil-khana. Detailed accounts of entries into the pil-khana logs give us a vivid idea of the numbers and nature of the augmentation of these stables. The later Mughals speak of villages whose inhabitants earn their livelihood by breaking-in wild elephants. This indicates that the wild population was still intact, but perhaps was not as widespread as during the times of the Ghorids.

Just as with horses, the Hindu kings had themselves a similar albeit smaller arsenal of war-elephants. These kingdoms went to great lengths and paid handsome price for such possessions. Barani cites that Bengal was the most significant source of elephants. And in its varying capacity as part of the sultanate or a tributary state, Bengal was a steady source. Another prominent source was south of the Deccan, where even today in the hilly forests of Western Ghats, elephants can be found in respectable numbers. This was evidenced by Malik Kafur’s subjugation of the Pandyans and the gain of 360 odd elephants. Sri –Lanka is also seen as a source especially for the southern kingdoms by way of trade. Two separate references - that of Afif and Ibn Battuta - even indicate a trade in Elephants from Ceylon to Delhi.

The Timorous End of the Caliphate

The regicidal, fratricidal and patricidal proclivities of the Turk elite, combined with increased decentralization of power reached a critical stage at the close of the fourteenth century. Interestingly, it was the control of the pil-khana and the elephants which was central for this decade long power struggle. The web of deceit that unfolds is beyond the scope of this review, but it suffices to say that several sultans were proclaimed, deposed, proclaimed again, overthrown, regaled, foreign chief interfered, assumed power, were deposed, assassinated, and the likes. The essence of the whole struggle seemed to be driven by the control of the elephants and their use deterrant. The struggle for the greater part unfolded within the city of Delhi, in the neighborhood of Siri, Ferozshah Kotla, Hauz-i-Khas, all names familiar to a denizen of Delhi. This decade long struggle left the incumbents drained and they fell to the armies of Timor of Samarkand, who ended the Delhi’s pil-khana by taking the 120 odd elephants off to his own dominion. It is argued that even such a small number had kept intact the power of the Delhi Sultanate amongst their Hindu neighbors. And after this point, Delhi was reduced to the same military stature as their rivals. Thus it was the lack of supply of the animals of war that had helped their rise to power, that lead to their downfall.

Conclusion

The author argues very convincingly that the supply of war-animals was one of the chief determinants in the success of the Turks in India. I am for the most part satisfied with several facets of the thesis. Namely, that the supply of war animals was indeed critical for supremacy and was a mainstay of political policy of the sultans. The large numbers of these animals were reasonably well established and the inferior numbers of Hindu counterparts were also indicated, although not satisfactorily proven. It can be argued that Central Asia was an abundant home of wild horses, and armies from there could have cavalries of immense sizes and that the pastoral life of the steppes would engender such great dexterity of horsemanship, which when brought to war could lead to decisive military advantages. But the author himself concedes that the Hindu cavalry wasn’t necessarily composed of inferior horsemen, but it was more the tapering off of the supply to these animals once the sultanate controlled the north.

There are, however, some questions that remain either partially or wholly unanswered. I will list the prime amongst them. The first has to do with the initial scene as set out in my introduction. If indeed the Turks had the aforementioned strength in numbers of cavalry, one must come up with a satisfactory cause for their first defeat at the hands of the Rajputs? It can be argued that in a year, the Turks could muster a cavalry of equal or greater strength whereas the Rajputs couldn’t, however the author doesn’t analyse this change in fortune in detail. It is also documented that by the thirteenth century there was a strong trade in war-animals with the Hindu kingdoms. Can it so easily be assumed that the cavalries of none of these Kingdoms had the size of that of the Sultanate? This was not explicitly argued, although given the size of the trade ships, it could be reasonably argued that the time and cost it would take to amass a stable the size of Delhi’s would be prohibitive.

The two of the largest issue that I had with the argument pertain to the Mongols.
• Why would the Mongols allow the trade of hundreds of thousands of horses to their enemies, and then send hundreds of thousands of their own horses to fight the cavalry they helped build?'

• The Mongols would have had as great or greater a supply of horses. And by their success under Chengis Khan, and their expedition during the reign of Ala-ud-din-Khilji, it is clear that the importance of supply was not lost on them. How is it then that the Turks not only withstood the Mongols time and time again, but also defeated them conclusively on several occasions?

I believe that the real reasons lie as much in the fragmented nature of the Indian states, the lack of any religious bond, as it does in the supply of war-animals. The classical Indian state was small and fissiparous, and most likely the sectarian nature of the post-vedic Indian religion did not foster too much communal fraternity. This is deeply evidenced from the period of the Guptas to when the curtain rises on the battle of Panipat. The Rajput kings were not averse to plundering their neighbors wealth and were constantly at arms against each other. Such a political arena proved easy pickings for the Turks and then the Monguls (Moghuls) and then the Colonialists.