Persian Historiography of Delhi Sultanate
Persian Historiography of Delhi Sultanate
1] assess the imp of persian tarikh traditions in the context of delhi sultanate./ as a source
for history writing of the delhi sultanate./ significance of vernacular sources along with
persian sources.
2] characteristics and significance of persian sources for reconstructing the history of delhi
sultanate
4] assess barani as a historian of the delhi sultanate. Baranis’ contribution to history writing
in delhi sultanate.
6] the malfuzat texts emerge as an important genre of sufi [Link] they valuable to
reconstruct aspects of social and political history?
INTRODUCTION
The period of the Delhi Sultanate provides us with abundant sources to reconstruct it.
Chiefly written in Persian; these sources reflect a self-consciously historical character. Persian
literature in north India, influenced by Iranian and Islamic traditions in terms of stylistic
conventions, falls into 4 main genres:
This essay will examine two major genres of medieval Persian historical writing, Tarikhs and
Malfuzat. For Tarikhs, the essay will look at Tabaqat-i-Nasiri by Juzjani, Tarikh-i-Firozshahi
by Barani and Afif, and Waqiat-i-Mushtaqi by Mushtaqi and the historiographical
perspectives of scholars like Harbans Mukhia, Sunil Kumar, Irfan Habib, Peter Hardy, Ali
Anooshahr and Simon Digby. For Malfuzat, Fawaid al-Fuad, Khair al-Majalis, and Nafais al-
Anfas will be considered and the essay will look at historiographical perspectives offered by
Carl W. Ernst, Sunil Kumar, Z.A Desai and Bruce Lawrence.
TARIKHS
Tarikhs chiefly dealt with the nature of statecraft and kingship (akin to a biography of kings).
Most Tarikhs start out in a similar manner, tracing human experiences from the era of Adam
or Muhammad, to the contemporary time, concluding with a eulogy for the patron. They are
identified by their chronological narrative and focus on statecraft. Tarikhs were generally
used to create courtly literature and thus were seen as a ‘biography of kings’ which generally
neglected the history of the masses.
According to Sunil Kumar, the text becomes unique as Juzjani structured it in a manner
where he highlights the lives of people he believed shared a common social likeness. For
example, for the account on the Shansabanid family of Ghur, the text records the same
event and period from perspectives of different individuals or geographical regions.
While initially approached literally and positivistically, historians like Sunil Kumar and Simon
Digby have highlighted the importance of taking into account possible biases on the
composer’s part.
Barani's Tarikh-i-Firozshahi
Barani is widely regarded as the most significant historian of the period, and his works serve
as key sources of information on the 13th and 14th centuries. However, scholars have
expressed differing opinions about his historical approach. HM Elliot viewed him as an
“unfair narrator,” while J. Dawson criticized him as “narrow-minded and bigoted like
Muhammadans in general.” Peter Hardy argued that Barani treated “history as a branch of
Muslim theology.” In contrast, scholars like Ishwari Prasad and Mahdi Hussain consider him
the principle, if not the sole, source for the period covered in Tarikh-i-Firozshahi. Similarly,
Muhammad Habib, after a thorough analysis of Barani’s ideas in Tarikh-i-Firozshahi, praised
his work as “the greatest book that has survived to us from the Delhi Sultanate.”
The Tarikh-i-Firozshahi was an interpretation of the history of the Delhi Sultanate up to the
then-present Firuz Shah Tughlaq. It is an important source with detailed accounts of the
reigns of Ghiyasuddin Tughlaq, Muhammad Bin Tughlaq and Firozshah Tughlaq. He also
provides a useful account of the reigns of the preceding Sultans from Balban onwards. He
describes their political and economic policies elaborately and having been placed highly in
the administrative service himself, his information may be considered authentic.
Instead of a chronological narrative, each chapter begins with a list of the ruler’s maliks and
khans and the date of his accession, followed by the Barani’s assessment of the period. From
Jalaluddin Khalji’s reign onward, chapters are divided into sections addressing key events
and features of the ruler’s rule. Harbans Mukhia argues that the nature of the Tarikh
changes as one reaches the reign of Firozshah Tughlaq, where the account is haphazardly
divided into 11 muqaddamas.
Given the broad time period covered by Tarikh-i-Firozshahi, discussions of this period among
modern-day historians have thus understandably tended to centre around interpretations of
Barani’s work. Much debate has also concentrated on his conception of the role and
function of history, as laid out both in his Tarikh-i-Firozshahi and a more didactic work, the
Fatawa-i-jahandari (Political Theory of Delhi Sultanate) written around the same time
period.
Barani's enduring appeal lies in his unique approach to history. Unlike traditional historical
writing, Barani viewed history as a science and a guide for practical action, emphasising its
importance in society and listed seven benefits of studying history. Peter Hardy criticises
Barani as a fanatic overwhelmed with Islamic ideology who treats history as a branch of
muslim theology. He argues that such a partiality renders the text useless as a source of
history. Irfan Habib opposes Hardy and states that such an interpretation is problematic as
there can be no disputing that Barani values history.
Barani sees history as a pursuit of truth requiring factual accuracy, yet also believes it should
serve the ruling classes. Despite critiquing biased histories, he often praised rulers like Firuz
Shah Tughlaq to gain favour, focusing primarily on elites while dismissing the significance of
ordinary people.
Barani argues that power arises from historical processes, not divine will, and stresses the
need to justify the arbitrary nature of royal authority through proper administration. Barani
argues for a despotic monarchy with a Sultan wielding effective power, emphasising the
necessity of the ‘despotic terror’ for the ruling class to succeed. However, he recognises the
ambiguity in using terror, acknowledging the contradiction that while effective control
demands terror, it also destabilises power.
Irfan Habib highlights the shifts and instability within the ruling classes as observed by
Barani, noting that Barani’s distinction between highborn (sharif) and lowborn (razil) was
based not on birth but on historical legitimacy. Turkish slaves, initially seen as upstarts after
Iltutmish’s death, eventually became accepted as insiders over time.
Barani’s account of the subversion of the ruling class reveals a core contradiction: his
preference for a closed, hereditary elite clashes with his recognition of the value of loyalty
and competence. The administrative failures before 1295 culminated in Alauddin’s coup and
the collapse of the traditional nobility. Although Barani disapproved of the inclusion of clerks
and slaves in Alauddin’s court, he acknowledged the necessity of this 'plebeianisation,'
which reached its peak under Muhammad bin Tughlaq. As Irfan Habib notes, despite
Barani’s criticism, he appeared largely untroubled by the growing presence of foreign and
Hindu elements within the nobility.
• Religion
A major point of contention in Barani's ideological stance is his approach to religion. Peter
Hardy links Barani's religious and political views, attributing a theological perspective to his
history writing. While religion appears significant for Barani, K.A Nizami and Irfan Habib
dispute Hardy's claims. Barani established a close connection between matters of religion
(dindari) and governance (jahandari). According to Habib, while Barani uses theological
language, his concept statecraft recognizes the impracticality of a literal interpretation of
Sharia in India. Barani refrains from criticising Muhammad bin Tughlaq's tolerance towards
Hindus, indicating an awareness of the need for accommodation. Hence, as Habib states,
Barani's orthodoxies are better understood in class terms rather than religious, particularly
in his concern about lowborn Muslims entering the aristocracy.
• Economic aspects
Irfan Habib credits Barani for his valuable insights into the Delhi Sultanate’s economy,
particularly through his account of Alauddin Khalji’s policies. Barani viewed the Sultanate as
an urban power extracting heavy surplus from a vast agrarian base—mainly by taxing half
the grain and imposing levies that weakened the rural aristocracy. This surplus funded grain
price controls in Delhi, but Barani noted that low prices led to low wages and poor
purchasing power, deepening rural poverty. His Tarikh remains central to our critical
understanding of the Sultanate’s political and economic dynamics.
Barani’s Tarikh-i-Firuz Shahi offers deep insights into the administrative, political, religious,
and economic structures of the Delhi Sultanate. Much of our understanding of power,
nobility, and statecraft in this period stems from his work. However, it is not without flaws. A
major issue is its unreliable chronology—Barani rarely provides dates, and when he does,
they are often inaccurate due to his reliance on memory rather than a strict timeline. He also
employs religious idioms as explanatory tools, giving his work a distinct, though not overtly
theological, religious tone.
Tarikh-i-Firuz Shahi is not just a chronicle—it is an interpretive history that stands apart from
other medieval Indo-Muslim texts. Despite its biases, Barani’s work introduced a unique
theory of history writing and remains foundational to our understanding of the period. His
ability to critically engage with historical processes, while shaping a lasting historiographical
legacy, makes him an indispensable figure in medieval Indian history. As Hardy aptly noted,
“The history of thought is not the whole of history, but there is no intelligible history without
it.”
Afif's work focuses on a shorter period of history than Barani, specifically covering only the
reign of Firozshah Tughlaq. Afif divides his Tarikh into 5 qisms, each consisting of 18
muqaddamas. The surviving text begins with praise for God, the Prophet, Sufis, and the
virtues of the Sultan. Each section, although not in chronological order, addresses a phase of
Firozshah Tughlaq's life from birth to reign, emphasising his shift from military expeditions to
the welfare of the people. Harbans Mukhia observes that each section acts as a kind of
interpretation, with Afif incorporating a studied interpretation element in contrast to the
arbitrarily determined muqaddamas of Barani.
Rizqullah Mushtaqi wrote Waqiyāt-i Mushtaqi in the late 16th century, recounting stories
from the aftermath of the Timurid invasion. Unlike traditional conventions of Tarikhs, this
work lacks chronological precision and rarely mentions dates. It stands out by focusing on
laymen's market gossip instead of detailing military or court affairs.
Ali Anooshahr notes that Mushtaqi presents stories that touch on both fatalism and human
agency without fully endorsing one over the other. He describes Waqiyat-i-Mushtaqi as
reflecting a worldview in flux during the transition from the Sultanate to the Mughal period.
Mushtaqi’s text foregrounds the concept of human agency in interpreting history. Mushtaqi
seems to be caught between a waning belief in divine destiny and an inability to discard it
entirely. He never directly questions God or his taqdir but criticises the mystic
intermediaries. This ambivalence is particularly evident in his portrayal of Sultan Bahlul Lodi.
According to Simon Digby, Mushtaqi’s account resembles the compositions of Jawhar,
Bayazid, and Gulbadan. Digby attempted to connect the text to the court due to its opening
sentence referring to the kingship of God, its fashionable writing style, and its use of courtly
idioms but was criticised for it. Therefore, the work is better understood in a context outside
the imperial court.
Ali Anooshahr further addresses the dynamic nature of authorship, stating that Mushtaqi’s
style resembles the Malfuzat genre. He highlights how Mushtaqi’s authorship needs to be
understood at the intersection of orality and writing, in the very act of composition, not
simply in terms of source material and literacy.
Although not rigorously used initially, Waqiyāt-i Mushtaqi has gained popularity as a source
since it covers a period with limited alternative sources and offers a retrospective overview
of the smaller Sultanates of the 15th century.
MALFUZAT
According to Carl W Ernst in 'Eternal Garden,' the practice of documenting oral teachings as
canonical texts gained prominence with the Chishtis, notably Nizamuddin Awliya. It evolved
into an authoritative and normative genre, with subsequent Chishti shaikhs inheriting
Nizamuddin's role having their Malfuzat compiled.
A significant example of this genre, solidifying its form and popularity in South Asian Sufism,
is Fawaid al-Fuad by Amir Hasan Sijzi. This work records conversations of the widely revered
Chishti saint Nizamuddin Awliya. Successors like Nasiruddin Chiragh-i Dihli and Burhanuddin
Gharib also had disciples compile their Malfuzats.
Fawaid al-Fuad or ‘Morals of the heart’ was composed and compiled by Amir Hasan Sijzi as
a daily memoir of Nazimuddin Awliya’s majlis. It takes into account a course of 15 years from
approximately 1307-1322. The prefix of the work gives a detailed process of the making of
the text. This diary structure became the dominant format for Malfuzat texts. To distinguish
itself from the mass circulating Malfuzat, Sijzi emphasised that his text carried the authentic
record of Awliya’s conversations and were edited by the latter himself. The success of Fawaid
al-Fuad popularised Chishti sufism tremendously. Ziauddin Barani has also recorded the
same in his writings.
Until Sijzi’s work, Malfuzat was not considered a suitable form for narrating the discourses of
the majlis or the shaikhs; the Maqtubad (letters signed by the Sheikh to his disciple), the
Isharat (treatises on mystical instruction) or the Tazkirat (biographical anthology) which
were preferred. Most Malfuzat written before the Fawaid al-Faud were largely flat
monologues and Sijzi transformed the genre into an interactive record, capturing the
clumsiness of lived life.
The collection of Khair al-Majalis or The Best of Assemblies began in 1354 at the hands of
Hamid Qalandar. Recording the proceedings of Nasiruddin ‘Chirag-i-Dihli’, the Malfuzat had
an uneven character given the difference in the legal and ascetic emphasis of the shaikh and
Qalandar’s incompetence. KA Nizami remarked that Hamid Qalandar had no aptitude for
mysticism.
Despite these inaccuracies, the Khair al-Majalis is an important link in the Chishti teachings
and reflects the beginning of a tension with Burhanuddin Gharib as rivals for canonical
status.
ANALYSIS OF MALFUZAT
This literature, though complex, proves invaluable for understanding the socio-economic
and political history of its time and place. In contrast to courtly mediaeval historical
writings, Malfuzat sheds light on various aspects of Indo-Muslim society. Additionally, the
Malfuzat served as a means to elevate certain Sufi teachers to a crucial status. Sijzi and
Qalandar's efforts positioned their masters as Sultan al-mashaikh (Sultan of the Shaikhs.)
Modern historians have debated the usefulness of Malfuzat as a historical source. ZA Desai
was among the first to recognize them as useful. Over time, scholars like KA Nizami began
using Malfuzat to depict the history of common people. Bruce Lawrence and Carl Ernst
emphasise the complexity of the source, suggesting that while Malfuzat claims to represent
the common man's voice, it inherently reflects the composer's bias. They argue that 3 voices
can be discerned within the work: the sheikh, the author, and the common man. Some
historians contend that the questions posed by these laymen are stylized and mediated in a
manner that the actual individual gets lost.
To completely understand the uniqueness of the Malfuzat as a source, several scholars made
comparisons between them and other sufi literature (such as the Tazkirat or Maqtubad.)
But the Malfuzat stands out given its raw and unprocessed form.
CONCLUSION
In conclusion, both the Tarikhs and the Malfuzat are invaluable sources for reconstructing
the history and society of the Delhi Sultanate and Early Medieval India. While historians have
offered varying interpretations and critiques—highlighting the mystical nature of the
Malfuzat and the narrative style of the Tarikhs—there is consensus on their essential role in
understanding the political and social dynamics of the period.
However, we must be cautious of how we read them, as the author’s perspective and bias
will always influence the history one claims to write. Ultimately, one must strive to read
these texts ‘imaginatively’ as said by Sunil Kumar, for it is through reading the texts against
the grain, that we will be able to understand them better.
• Tarikhs
• Malfuzats
• Conclusion
2. Tarikh (2323)
• Tarikhs (4 examples)
• Conclusion
3. Barani (1524)
1] analyse the evolution and working of iqta system under the sultans of delhi/ continuity
and change in iqta system. Discuss? / has recent research changed the perception related to
it?
2] examine the changing nature of the iqta under the delhi sultans. In what ways did the
system lead to the growth of the urban economy./ in what ways did the system lead to the
growth of central administrartion
3] examine the changes in the organization of the iqta system from the 13th to the 16th
centuries
4] examine the changes in the iqta system in the 13th and 14th centuries. How did it define
the relationship between the sultan and the ruling class in this period
IQTA
With the rise in agrarian surplus and taxation, a system was needed to collect taxes from
peasants and distribute them to the ruling class. This system, known as Iqta, functioned as a
revenue assignment. The Iqta system was a pivotal institutional feature of the Delhi
Sultanate’s administrative and military framework. It adapted to changing political,
economic, and military needs, mirroring both the strength and the eventual weaknesses of
the Sultanate.,This answer thus aims to explore the workings and evolution of the Iqta
system. Incorporating insights from scholars such as Irfan Habib, Sunil Kumar and W.H.
Moreland.
The sources used to analyse this system include the Persian Tarikhs written by Ziauddin
Barani, Minhaj Juzjani and Afif. We will further utilise foreign accounts and texts by Ibn
Battuta and more.
GENERAL UNDERSTANDING
Iqta was a territorial assignment whose holder, the muqti, was responsible for collecting
taxes from peasants. The muqti could not charge additional fees or risk losing his position.
Iqta served as the primary means of transferring agrarian surplus to the ruling class and
military.
Irfan Habib, notes that a muqti's right to collect taxes, especially land revenue, was at the
king’s discretion. A sultan could adjust the size of the iqta at any point of time. The muqti
had to fulfil certain obligations such as maintaining troops and presenting them to the sultan
when needed. The muqti functioned as both tax collector and army paymaster. Areas not
assigned as iqtas were known as khalisa, where royal officials collected taxes directly for the
treasury.
The iqta system redistributed land revenue and could become an administrative role at the
sultan’s will. After the Ghorian conquest of North India, commanders became muqtis, and
their jurisdictions were called iqtas, sometimes referred to as Walis or Wilayats.
W.H Moreland argued that iqta referred to a specific area assigned to a noble, called a
muqti, who enjoyed administrative powers granted by the sultan and could be frequently
transferred. Muqtis acted as revenue collectors and governors, overseeing local iqtas with a
large number of officers. They could pay these officers in cash or by sub-delegating their
own iqta, though this differed from sultan-assigned iqtas. While considering the time period
for holding the iqta, Minhaj Juzani noted that the tenure of an iqtadar varied, typically
lasting two to four years, with changes often occurring when a new ruler ascended the
throne. The size of iqtas also varied, from large provinces like Awadh or Bengal to small
groups of villages.
The institution of iqta dates back to Qutub-ud-din Aibak. While mentioned in various
sources, these need verification. With the establishment of the Sultanate, autonomous
principalities gradually became iqtas. According to Habib, Iltutmish initiated the practice of
transferring muqtis between iqtas and requiring them to maintain troops. There is no solid
evidence that muqtis had to maintain a fixed number of troops or send a set amount to the
sultan’s treasury, although Barani mentions that each grantee was expected to raise one to
three horsemen. Muqtis could sub-assign smaller iqtas within their larger ones, often using
this method to pay their troops. Juzani’s Tabaqat records that Iltutmish once held the iqta of
Baran and that Baran was frequently granted as an iqta during his reign and those of his
successors.
The sultans also always aimed to expand their khalisa, with Delhi and its surrounding areas
including parts of the Doab, being part of it. Iltutmish paid his central cavalry, numbering
2,000-3,000, by assigning them villages known as iqtas. Balban continued this practice and
reduced or reclaimed iqtas from those who failed to provide proper service. Before Balban's
fall, it was required to transfer excess iqta revenue to the treasury. He also appointed a
khwaja (accountant) alongside the muqti to monitor collections and expenditures within the
iqta. By the late 13th century, the wealth and importance of an iqta were often measured by
the number of horsemen maintained. This can be gathered from Barani’s mention of
Balban’s slave Malik Buqubuq (muqti of Badaun) having 4,000 horsemen.
During Alauddin Khalji's reign, the empire expanded significantly, and the full land tax was
imposed on older territories. This period saw important changes in the iqta mechanism.
Iqtas were assigned to various groups, including newcomers. More areas were brought
under the empire, with regions near the capital becoming khalisa, which now included the
entire middle Doab and parts of modern Rohilkhand. Alauddin abolished paying the sultan’s
cavalry with village assignments, opting to pay them in cash instead; a practice continued
until the end of Muhammad Tughlaq’s reign.
The Finance department or Diwan-i-Wazirat estimated the tax income from each iqta. A
portion of this income was allocated for troop payments under the muqti or wali, while the
rest covered the muqti’s salary and personal expenses. Any surplus revenue had to be paid
into the treasury. To prevent muqtis from hiding income, strict audits and harsh
punishments, including imprisonment and torture, were enforced. Local revenue outside the
khalisa was given to the muqti’s appointees rather than the central government in Delhi. Afif
in his work notes how these measures led to widespread devastation of the sultanate as
estimated income of the iqta enhanced.
Ghiyasuddin Tughluq introduced moderation to the iqta system rather than radical changes.
The Finance Department was restricted from increasing the income estimate by more than
one-tenth or one-eleventh annually to avoid burdening the peasantry. Muqtis were not
penalised for taking up to one-twentieth of the kharaj in excess of their sanctioned income
but were prohibited from taking funds designated for troop payments. Additionally, muqtis
were advised not to harshly treat officials for taking small amounts above their salaries.
Ghiyasuddin further discontinued Alauddin's harsh audit measures.
Under Muhammad Tughluq, the twin functions of the collection of taxes and maintenance of
troops began to be separated, the one reason being that the sultan must have wanted to
obtain a larger income. Barani suggests that iqta contractors were not obligated to maintain
troops, who had separate establishments. Ibn Battuta describes this dual administration in
his account of ‘Hazar of Amroha’, where a revenue wali and a military Amir operated side by
side. According to the arabic work Masalik al-Absar, army commanders were assigned iqtas
in lieu of their salaries. But the estimated income of the iqta, against which the salary was
adjusted, was always less than the actual. The troops were paid by the treasury in cash. This
change removed the control over military funds from commanders, possibly causing
discontent among army officers.
Firuz Tughluq began his reign, during a severe political crisis, by promising concessions to the
nobility. He ordered a new revenue estimate, designated as jama, which remained
unchanged throughout his reign. This simplified audits as enhancements were not possible.
He increased the personal pay of his nobles, assigning them separate iqtas and parganas and
significantly reduced the khalisa by converting more land into iqtas. Firuz reinstated the
practice of paying soldiers with village revenues called wajh, instead of salaries. Soldiers
without wajh were paid in cash or via drafts on nobles' iqtas. Afif notes that Firuzshah
Tughluq’s reign also emphasised hereditary succession, with offices and wajh assignments
passing to the sons, sons-in-law, slaves, or widows of deceased officers.
The successors of Firuzshah Tughluq struggled to restore central control. Under Mubarak
Shah, iqtas still required troop maintenance, with occasional transfers. The Lodi dynasty
maintained a similar system but with certain reorganisation. Iqtas were replaced by Sarkars
and Parganas, territorial divisions where principal assignees sub-assigned portions to
subordinates who paid soldiers similarly. Despite weak central control, the core elements of
the old iqta system persisted and influenced the Mughals' Jagirdari system.
HISTORIOGRAPHICAL DEBATE
Early Modern Historians vigorously debated on the actual meaning, nature and usage of the
Iqtadari system.
Irfan Habib understands the Iqta as a revenue assignment and notes that as the sultanate
grew stronger, rulers exerted more control over the iqta system through regular transfers.
Strong sultans tightened control over iqtas, while weaker ones allowed nobles to gain
strength at the expense of the ruler. Additionally, Habib observes that Firoz Shah's policy of
transferability weakened over time, leading to iqtas becoming hereditary.
W.H. Moreland highlighted a problem in 19th-century translations, where terms like iqta
and muqti were equated with European feudal concepts. This led to a misconception that
the Delhi Sultanate was a mix of bureaucratic governance and feudalism. However,
Moreland argues against this view, stating that the sultanate was a bureaucratic organisation
with a royal household of slaves who could rise to administrative positions based on merit or
favour. He points that this is essentially a bureaucracy of Asian type. He further summarises
the role of the Muqti and points out that they were appointed by the king, with no inherent
claim to a specific region and were responsible for troop maintenance, revenue collection,
and treasury payments. Their financial activities were audited by revenue ministry officials,
and they could be transferred, removed, or punished by the king at any time. This structure
demonstrates that the kingdom's administration was purely bureaucratic, not feudal.
Moreland further refutes the early differentiation between iqtas and wilayats on the basis of
distance. He states that such an analysis lacks support from a thorough analysis of historical
chronicles. He notes the scarcity of mentions of the term wali in these chronicles, making it
difficult to discern the difference between iqtas and wilayats. Moreland suggests that one
possible distinction may have been that walis did not have to maintain troops, while muqtis
did. However, by the time of Ghiyasuddin Tughlaq, orders regarding troops applied to both
classes, indicating the terms had become obsolete. The occasional occurrence of muqti of a
wilayat also suggests that these terms were practically synonymous.
Sunil Kumar agrees with Moreland, stating that while iqta is mentioned in historical sources,
its significance in the administration of the Delhi Sultanate is obscure. He argues that familial
relations were more important than iqta in governance. Kumar emphasises personalised ties
between sultans and gulams as the key means of ensuring loyalty and controlling nobles.
Additionally, he rejects the notion of weak and strong sultans.
CONCLUSION
Thus, the Iqta system, while ostensibly a mechanism for revenue distribution and military
provisioning, reveals the Delhi Sultanate's evolving struggle to balance central authority with
local autonomy. Its transformation—from a flexible administrative tool to a quasi-hereditary
entitlement—highlights both the adaptability and inherent instability of the Sultanate's
political structure.
QUESTIONS:
1] how internal, regional and external dynamics have helped us in understanding the making
of the political culture of vijayanagr?
2] in what ways was the structure of vijaynagar state based on martialisation of politics and
changed socio-economic institutions? Elucidate
3] analyse the significance of the ‘nayankara system’ in the vijaynagar state’ / nature of
vijayanagr state and reference to nayankara system.
4] describe the politico-military aspects of the vijaynagar empire. Is it justified to call it a war
state?
5] analyse the different elements evident in the political culture of the vijayanagar state.
6] analyse the articulation and organization of political authority in the vijaynagar empire,
with special reference to the nayankara system.
VIJAYANAGARA
INTRODUCTION
The Vijayanagar Empire is believed to have been founded in the mid-14th century by the
brothers Harihara and Bukka. Although 1336 is the commonly accepted founding year,
historians like Philip Wagoner and Hermann Kulke argue that 1346, marked by a significant
victory celebration, more accurately represents the empire’s true inception. The name
“Vijayanagar” comes from its capital, meaning “City of Victory,” rather than its founders. The
origins of Harihara and Bukka are debated—some believe they served a local ruler defeated
by the Delhi Sultanate, while others suggest they were former Hoysala commanders who,
after Tughluq’s power weakened, carved out their dominion. The Delhi Sultanate’s
aggressive campaigns in South India played a crucial role in enabling this new political
formation.
With the rise of the Khiljis, Islamic influence spread to southern India. As Islamic rulers
prepared to assert control over the South and Deccan, the Vijayanagar state emerged in
1336, founded by brothers, Harihara and Bukka. This marked a shift in political focus from
the ancient core of the Tamil plains to the city of Vijayanagar on the edge of the
Tungabhadra River. Over time, Vijayanagar extended its control over the Tamil region.
This essay examines the debated nature of the Vijayanagar state, referencing historians like
Burton Stein, Robert Sewell, Nilkantha Shastri among others. It discusses the state's
political culture with regards to Islamicization, dress customs (Kabayi and Kullayi), Ram
Navami festival, grand titles, and new institutions while incorporating critiques from Philip
Wagoner, G.S. Hodgson, Hermann Kulke, Noboru Karashima and others.
The nature of the Vijayanagar Empire has been subject to different interpretations: whether
it was a centralised or segmentary state, the role of the nayaks in shaping the state’s identity
and the question of feudalism. Scholars such as Robert Sewell, Nilkantha Sastri,
Mahalingam and others believed that ideological factors played an important role in the rise
and establishment of Vijayanagar.
Burton Stein argues that Robert Sewell’s A Forgotten Empire presents Vijayanagar as an old-
style regime that helped justify colonial rule by portraying its kings as oriental despots.
According to Stein, the rulers of Vijayanagar maintained power by forming strong ties with
feudal lords and using ritual to show their authority. This view was taken further by
Krishnaswami Aiyangar, who saw the empire’s rise as driven by religious motives and Hindu-
Muslim wars. He noted that while Vijayanagar initially supported local institutions like the
ur, sabha, and nadu, these were later ignored. N. Venkataramanayya linked the nayankara
military land system to the earlier Kakatiya kingdom, portraying Vijayanagar as a Hindu
resistance to Islamic rule. Sastri ultimately characterised Vijayanagar explicitly as a "war
state."
Sewell views Vijayanagar as a bulwark against the expansion of Muslim rule in South India—
a view echoed by Sastri and Iyengar. However, Cynthia Talbot and Catherine Asher argue
that neither a unified Hindu identity nor defined territorial boundaries existed in the 14th
century.
Thus, at this stage, two key ideas became central to Vijayanagar's historiography: that its
polity was shaped by alliances between powerful warrior families, and that its history
represented a struggle to protect varnashrama dharma from Islamic forces.
Burton Stein highlights that while the Vijayanagar state claimed to protect Hindu dharma
against Islam, its primary enemies were other Hindu rulers and the city included a 'Turushka'
quarter, a mosque, and Muslim tombs. Its architecture and urban character resembled a
Muslim capital more than a Hindu one. Stein rejects the feudal interpretation of the state's
polity, as argued by scholars like D.C. Sircar and instead describes it as segmentary, with
political power shared between the king and the Nayaks in a ritualistic sense.
Additionally, in her paper "From the Lion Throne: Political and Social Dynamics of the
Vijayanagar Empire," Carla Sinopoli examines material sources to understand the state's
self-projection and identity formation inside and outside. She notes that the Sangamas'
adoption of cavalry, which was crucial for the Delhi Sultanate, helped build the Vijayanagar
Empire. The presence of Muslim mercenaries in the capital indicates that Muslims were part
of Vijayanagar's political sphere, not merely religious enemies.
The ruler, or Raya, was the supreme authority in a hereditary monarchy that saw the king’s
power grow significantly compared to earlier dynasties like the Cholas. Scholars are divided:
some describe the Raya as an autocrat (Sastri and Smith), while others (Mahalingam) see
him as a benevolent ruler concerned with the public good. Talbot and Asher emphasise the
dual religious and administrative role of the king.
The king was seen as a righteous guardian of dharma and the Brahmanical order. Though
powerful, his authority was balanced by the council of ministers, which included nobles,
military leaders, and priests. Appointed by the king, these ministers played a key role in
governance but could be dismissed at his discretion. Local customs and religious texts also
influenced royal decisions.
A crucial administrative feature was the Nayankara system, where military chiefs (nayakas)
were granted land (amaram) in exchange for military support and tribute. The system
allowed nayakas autonomy as long as they fulfilled their obligations, including military
service and infrastructure development. Some nayakas also received tax-exempt land grants
(amara umbalige). Stein saw these chiefs as powerful intermediaries in a segmented state,
their rights resembling prebendalism—a term denoting fiscal privileges granted by a
superior.
Views on the nayakas vary: Satish Chandra calls them “subordinate rulers”, while others see
them as feudal lords or state agents. D.C. Sircar argues that their land tenure system
resembled feudalism, while Venkataramanayya sees it as a form of military service under a
centralized authority. Karashima, however, denies they were feudal lords, showing through
inscriptions that their power was legitimized only by the king.
Philip Wagoner's recent work offers new perspectives on Vijayanagar's political culture.
Unlike other scholars mentioned above, Wagoner argues that the conflicts in South India
from the 14th to 17th centuries cannot be simply explained as Hindu-Muslim clashes. He
suggests that Islamic influences impacted Vijayanagar's courtly life, evident in the secular
culture of the ruling class, beyond just religious doctrine and practices.
Dressing
The method of dress and address in Vijayanagar were influenced by Islamic culture. Murals
at the Virabhadra Temple in Lepakshi and foreign accounts from Paes, Nuniz, and Razzaq
reveal the adoption of Islamic garments like the Kabayi and Kullayi. The Kabayi, a long-
sleeved tunic varying in length, was typically made of white cotton or silk. The king's version
was embroidered with gold floral designs. The Kullayi, a high, brimless conical cap, was often
made of silk brocade with floral designs. These garments were primarily worn by male elites,
though the Kullayi was occasionally worn by women. The materials used varied according to
the value and prestige of the wearer.
Thus, the Vijayanagar Kabayi originated from the conservative Arab 'qaba', and the Kullayi
was inspired by the Persian 'kulah.' Garment use varied between 'residential' (akam) and
'performative' (puram) domains, with traditional Indic attire favoured in domestic settings.
The adoption of these garments indicates the kings' awareness of the broader political
climate and their desire to align with widespread Islamic culture.
Indigenous texts like Rayavacakamu and foreign accounts by Domingo Paes document the
Vijayanagar court's ritual of exchanging 'transactional symbols' to assert political authority
and hierarchy. Wagoner notes that Vijayanagar kings adopted the Islamic court practice of
bestowing royal garments and other items such as pan, scent, and jewellery. This ritual
served as a political ‘lingua franca.'
Titles
Architecture
Vijayanagar's courtly architecture, featuring domes and arches blending Indo-Islamic and
South Indian designs, reflects emerging collective values and political legitimacy involving
multiple states and empires. N. Karashima notes that Devraya II enlisted Muslim soldiers
and built a mosque for them in the capital, highlighting how demographic changes
influenced political culture and military strategy.
Rituals
Rituals and festivals played a crucial role in establishing the sovereign's authority and
asserting control over distant subordinates in Vijayanagar. Temples and Mathas served
political purposes in this regard. Karashima cites sources like Abdur Razzaq and European
travellers who described the annual nine-day Ram Navami festival. On the tenth day, the
king likely celebrated Rama's victory as a symbolic triumph over enemies, with the nayakas
required to be in attendance and pay revenue. The festival symbolised Vijayanagar's ruler’s
sovereignty, encompassing ritual, administrative and military dimensions.
CONCLUSION
Thus, Between the fourteenth and sixteenth centuries, Vijayanagara emerged as a major
cultural and economic force in South Asia. Its rulers combined indigenous traditions with
external influences, particularly in military and administrative practices like the Nayankara
system. Though once seen as a Hindu bulwark, recent scholarship highlights how its
adoption of Islamicate courtly norms—such as Persian dress and titles—was a strategic
move to assert supremacy in a diverse political landscape. Vijayanagara’s imperial identity,
therefore, went beyond religion, rooted instead in pragmatic adaptations to shifting power
dynamics.
QUESTIONS:
1] critically analyze state endeavour to regulate prices in the late 13th and early 14th
centuries. How far was it related to larger politico- economic issues? / why were they
abandoned in later years.
2] analyse the eco reforms of alauddin khilji with special reference to his market control
policy? / analyse the significance of this policy.
3] trace the characteristics of alauddin khiljis agrarian reforms. What was its impact on the
rural society?
4] describe khiljis market regulations. How far was he successful in reorganising the
economy?
Alauddin Khilji’s reign was marked by his military achievements against the Mongols and the
price regulation and market reforms introduced by him. They highlighted the state's need for
additional revenue which was done through direct and indirect fiscal intervention. This essay
explores the question of Tarikh-i-Firozshahi’s accuracy, Barani's critical perspective on the
reforms, analyses the areas affected by price control, the social impacts and aims to
understand Khilji's possible motives for implementing these regulations. It will further take
into account the varied historiographical critiques put forward by Irfan Habib, W.H.
Moreland and U.N Day among others.
The sources used for analysing these reforms includes primarily Barani’s Tarikh-i-Firozshahi,
with four other Persian sources: Amir Khusrau’s Khazain-uI-Futuh, Ibn Battuta’s Rihla,
Isami’s Futuh-us-Salatin and recorded conversations of Chishti saint Nasiruddin Mahmud.
Irfan Habib established the veracity of Barani’s account through a comparative analysis of all
the texts, including commodity prices, mention of imperial storehouses for grains, the role of
grain carriers in ensuring grain supply among others. He highlights Barani’s difficulty in
having access to these works himself, ensuring the independence of the four texts. WH
Moreland acknowledged the credibility of Barani’s narrative, considering his absence of
incentive to fabricate such a narrative and his limited capability in economic analysis to
invent its essence.
Contrarily, UN Day scrutinises Barani’s narrative, questioning his omission of instances where
prices decreased in the real sense or his interpretation of the mechanisms behind price
reductions. Additionally, Day raises concerns about deciphering Barani’s text due to his
usage of vague and obscure terms, which complicates a comprehensive understanding.
Habib highlights Barani's insight into how Alauddin Khilji ensured low grain prices. Barani
mentions the use of imperial storehouses and Sultan-managed grain carriers, but
emphasises Khilji's land tax policy. This policy involved extracting half of the agricultural
produce as taxes, along with taxes on cattle and houses, leading to the impoverishment of
local cultivators and intermediaries.
Khilji employed two measures to fill granaries and supply grains at low prices: First, he
collected grain as tax from Khalisa lands and partly in grain and cash from Chhain regions.
Second, local officials strictly collected taxes, forcing farmers to sell their produce to grain
carriers to pay. By tying grain prices to taxes, the Sultan could control prices and ensure a
steady, cheap grain supply in city markets.
Lower food prices reduced the cost of living, resulting in lower wages for both skilled and
unskilled labourers. Artisans also faced reduced wages due to lower profit margins. This
reduction in wages would decrease demand, leading to deflationary pressure in the
economy. Consequently, lower agricultural prices and wages would also lower the prices of
manufactured goods.
Commodities coming from outside the price-control zone (fine cloth, cavalry horses and
imported slaves) were not affected by these price control measures. To reduce prices,
alternative methods were employed, such as the creation of exclusive markets accessible
only to the nobility, and the advancement of loans to reputable merchants to ensure a
steady supply of goods. A new government market named 'Sara-i-Adl' was set up near
Badaun gate, overseen by the newly formed Diwan-i-Riyasat or Price Control Department.
The department’s goal was to ensure that traders sold goods at prices set by it.
U.N. Day, drawing on Barani’s account, examined the commitments made to Mustarifs and
revenue collectors to curb grain hoarding by farmers, ensuring that supplies reached
caravans. Such hoarding would otherwise have created artificial scarcity, enabling grain to be
sold at inflated prices. Day also highlighted Alauddin Khilji’s strategic revocation of iqtas
granted to various grantees—a calculated move to reassert central control without major
administrative disruption. Khilji first reclaimed all grants and then redistributed them with
formal documentation, thereby consolidating royal authority. The responsibility for revenue
collection, formerly held by iqtadars, was transferred to the Amil and his staff, with revenues
directed to the central treasury for regulated disbursal. Aware that this expanded
bureaucracy might lead to corruption, Khilji raised officials’ salaries and imposed harsh
penalties for bribery and embezzlement as preventive measures.
Furthermore, Alauddin Khilji increased the state's share of land produce to 50%, aiming to
prevent exploitation by intermediaries, benefiting the state rather than the farmers. By
raising taxes and collecting directly, the Sultan took control of intermediary profits. The
revenue department was also reformed to tackle mismanagement. Revenue officials were
closely monitored, and cross-checking with the ban of the patwari helped curb their
misconduct.
Delhi was the primary focus of these price control measures, as per to Barani. He notes that
famines did not occur in Delhi. The other four sources also vaguely mention Delhi. Habib
suggests, through Ain-ul-Mulk's letters, that the region of Ucch may also have been under
price control. He further argues that the zone was limited to areas with heavy-tax systems,
meaning places like Multan would not be affected by these measures.
Day views Alauddin Khilji as a pragmatic ruler who acknowledged the difficulties of enforcing
reforms uniformly across the vast expanse of the empire. As a result, Khilji concentrated his
reform efforts on a tract that could be directly administered from Delhi, which constituted
the core of his dominion. Similarly, Moreland argues that these reforms were largely
confined to Delhi and its surrounding areas, a limited yet strategic scope that effectively
insulated the capital’s markets from external economic pressures.
Reduced prices benefited specific social classes but adversely affected rural populations
reliant on land for their income. The lowered grain prices were maintained through a harsh
taxation regime in the countryside. It impoverished the peasants as any and all surplus was
extracted from them to prevent stockpiling. The upper rural population also suffered given
their novel subjection to taxation. The market reforms thus only favoured the city-man in
general, at the cost of the village man.
Even in urban areas, a significant portion of the population faced disadvantages. While the
prices of goods and grains decreased, people's purchasing power was limited. Marketmen
and brokers were left profitless. Artisans, labourers and servants also suffered given the
reduction in the real value of their income. All these groups were affected by bezari or a lack
of money in hand. Cloth merchants had to source their goods from areas beyond Alauddin's
control, where prices were higher. However, they were obligated to sell at fixed rates in
Delhi, with the king allowing only a small profit margin. This likely also led to substantial
losses for the treasury.
Barani notes that groups unaffected by bezari were in advantageous positions. Merchants
who were respected and received loans from Sultans, while nobles had vast wealth and
access to exclusive markets. Habib notes that nobles directed their wealth towards charities
and langars. Soldiers also fared a little better from the common populace as they had fixed
salaries by the Sultan. Prosperity was visible among cavalrymen.
Habib agrees with Barani, while refraining from discrediting the account of benevolence,
and suggests that lower food prices would have led to a general reduction in prices for all
goods facilitating the recruitment of a large number of troops at cheaper wages. Moreland
attributes these reforms to politico-military considerations aimed at securing the State,
internally as well as externally.
U.N. Day traces a path of causality leading to the implementation of price regulations,
emphasising the persistent exploitation of the peasantry by the Iqtadars. According to him,
this exploitative relationship and corrupt practices of the assignees were unsustainable and
needed reform, eventually undertaken by Alauddin Khilji. Thus, the reforms were an
outcome of a historical evolution, with Alauddin serving merely as an instrument in their
execution. L.P Sharma contends that the reforms were prompted by escalating inflation and
the devaluation of currency in the market.
HISTORIOGRAPHICAL CRITIQUE
Habib acknowledges Barani's insights into Alauddin Khilji's reforms and credits his
understanding of their workings. He notes that Barani’s analysis holds up under scrutiny,
particularly in terms of functionality and practical implementation. Moreland, focusing on
the core aims of the price regulation such as, controlling supply and transportation, rationing
consumption, maintaining a well-organised intelligence network, and instilling fear through
the threat of severe punishment, also finds Barani’s account credible within this framework.
Additionally, scholars like LP Sharma and IH Qureshi commend the effective execution of
Alauddin's reform policies.
U.N. Day, while accepting certain aspects of Barani’s account, raises significant queries. He
contends that there is insufficient evidence confirming that Alauddin's prices were lower
than those in the countryside or the market's ‘normal’ prices. Day highlights Barani’s
observation that villagers brought grain to government markets to sell at fixed prices,
indicating a potential profit margin for the peasantry. Regarding ‘normal’ prices, Day argues
that during Firoz Shah Tughlaq’s reign, commodity prices were similar to Alauddin’s fixed
prices. He interprets Alauddin’s policy as aimed at curbing market price rises caused by
business community manipulation, rather than reducing prices below normal levels. Other
scholars, including V.A Smith, K.S Lal, and R.C. Majumdar, have also criticised Alauddin’s
policy for its social cost of oppression and limited success after Alauddin’s reign.
CONCLUSION
Thus, Alauddin Khilji's market reforms, though celebrated for their administrative
innovation, reveal a complex interplay of fiscal necessity, military strategy, and social control.
While Barani's account remains central and largely credible, historiographical critiques
highlight the reforms’ uneven impact and the significant human cost of their enforcement.
QUESTIONS:
1] examine the spread and influence of sufism during the sultanate period with special
reference to the nature of relationship between the sufis and state
2] discuss the main doctrines and practices of chistiti and shrawardi silsilas
3] trace the growth of chishti order in the sulatanate period. What was their attitude
towards the state and society
4] relationship b/w sufis and state, in the context of the recent study of the chishtis.
INTRODUCTION
The interaction between Sufi shaykhs and Muslim rulers in medieval India, particularly
during the Delhi Sultanate, was complex and multifaceted. Sufi orders, particularly the
Chishti and Suhrawardi, wielded significant spiritual influence over the masses, often
positioning themselves as moral and spiritual authorities. This occasionally brought them
into competition with the Sultans, who exercised political authority. The concept of
wilayat—spiritual authority or dominion—lay at the heart of this tension. Through their
wilayat, Sufi saints were believed to hold sway over both spiritual and temporal affairs,
affecting not just individuals but the fate of entire regions and dynasties.
CONCEPT OF WILAYAT
The term wilayat, meaning a “friend of God” or a saint. In Sufi thought, it denotes divine
friendship and a saint's proximity to God. In the context of medieval India, wilayat took on a
territorial dimension, where a Sufi shaykh was believed to have spiritual authority over a
specific region. This authority was not merely symbolic; it was thought to directly influence
the prosperity and political stability of the area. The well-being of an entire realm, in this
worldview, depended upon the presence and baraka (blessings) of its spiritual master.
During Ala al-Din Khalji’s reign (1296–1316), Shaykh Nizam al-Din Awliya was widely
recognized as a source of such divine blessing. He was referred to as Sultan al-Mashayikh
(Sultan of the Shaykhs), and many contemporaries, including the chronicler Isami, attributed
the Sultanate’s stability and prosperity to the saint’s spiritual presence. Isami went so far as
to claim that after Nizam al-Din’s death, the fortunes of the Delhi Sultanate declined—a
reflection of the belief that his wilayat had safeguarded the realm.
This belief in spiritual influence extended to the idea that a saint’s nafas (breath or
utterance) had creative or destructive power.
Importantly, wilayat was not seen as passive or purely personal. It was mapped across cities
and regions, creating symbolic geographies of power. Delhi was considered the wilayat of
Nizam al-Din Awliya, just as Ajodhan was associated with Baba Farid. These symbolic
geographies often paralleled and sometimes directly contested the political territories ruled
by the Sultanate.
Despite the immense authority implied by wilayat, the Chishti understanding of sainthood
emphasized humility, piety, and a conscious abstention from worldly power. Yet the saint’s
refusal to seek power paradoxically amplified his moral and spiritual legitimacy, turning his
khanqah into a locus of popular devotion and influence.
The spiritual authority implied by wilayat inevitably clashed with the Sultanate’s claims to
centralized and exclusive rule. While some Sufis accepted royal patronage and maintained
cordial relations with rulers, key figures—especially among the Chishtis—refused any
association with the court. This deliberate autonomy made them appear as alternative
sources of loyalty and legitimacy, posing a subtle yet potent challenge to the Sultans.
Sultans expected acts of deference from spiritual leaders, such as accepting gifts, attending
royal courts, or admitting rulers into their khanqahs. However, Nizam al-Din Awliya actively
resisted these expectations. His frequent refusals led to numerous confrontations with
Delhi’s rulers, as recorded in the Siyar al-Awliya.
Four anecdotes have been mentioned in the Siyar al-awliya, a biographical source. For
example, Sultan Feroz Shah Khalji conspired with the poet, Amir Khusraw, also a murid
(disciple) of Nizam al-Din to pay a visit to him but Awliya found out about this and
immediately left Delhi for a visit to his pir’s resting place in Ajodhan. Another instance is
when Sultan Alauddin Khalji attempted to submit a letter suggesting mutual cooperation,
Nizam al-Din rejected it outright, stating, “What business have darweshs with the doings of
kings?” This reaffirmed his position as a spiritual recluse uninterested in temporal power.
Sultan Qutb uddin Mubarak (1316–1320) became hostile when Nizam al-Din refused to pray
in his newly constructed mosque and did not participate in monthly court gatherings. The
Sultan threatened to summon him by force and the conflict got serious. Shortly after,
Khusraw Khan assassinated the Sultan—an event seen by the shaykh’s followers as divine
retribution. The last anecdote revolves around the infamously strained relationship between
Nizam al-Din and Ghiyas al-Din Tughluq, where the latter, motivated by envy, called upon the
former to defend the legitimacy of the practice of sama (musical assemblies) in front of a
large gathering.
It is interesting to note that in the first two instances, the shaykh’s desire to avoid a meeting
prevailed without any contest. In the third case, it led to the brutal and exemplary death of
the Sultan. But in the fourth anecdote, the shaykh was in fact compelled to attend the
Sultan’s summons and hear his judgement. However, there were also sultans who may not
have taken Sufi claims to wilayat seriously, even though they find frequent reference in
contemporary chronicles as well as hagiographical sources. Nevertheless, such claims
remained a source of vague and recurrent discomfort.
These episodes reveal how Sufi shaykhs walked a fine line between resistance and
accommodation. Their authority rested not in force but in popular support and divine
sanction. Conversely, rulers like Ala al-Din Khalji—who sought to consolidate power through
autocracy—viewed Sufi networks as subversive. The state imposed restrictions on Sufi
gatherings, shrine constructions, and sama assemblies, seeking to curtail spiritual figures
who enjoyed mass appeal and operated independently of court control.
At the same time, Sufis subtly critiqued royal power. Nizam al-Din’s statements invoked
divine justice and spiritual truth, presenting a moral alternative to the Sultan’s coercive rule.
While the Sultan monitored Sufis as potential threats, the saints likewise passed moral
judgment on rulers, offering an ethical commentary on the conduct of kingship.
Alongside their spiritual power, Sufi shaykhs were believed to possess the ability to bestow
kingship through their nafas. This belief was particularly prevalent in a political culture
marked by frequent usurpations and lack of strict hereditary succession.
Anecdotes from as early as the thirteenth century recount how Sufis foretold the rise of
kings. Husain al-Din Awaz Khalji, for example, was reportedly told by two faqirs that he
would rule all of Hindostan. Such stories held particular appeal in the case of mamluk (slave)
rulers, who lacked hereditary rights and needed divine sanction to justify their rule.
Similar stories abound for figures like Shams al-Din Iltutmish, Ghiyas al-Din Balban, and Ala
al-Din Khalji. In each case, a Sufi saint is portrayed as bestowing kingship or foretelling future
sovereignty. This practice continued into the late fourteenth and sixteenth centuries,
cementing the image of Sufis as spiritual gatekeepers of kingship.
Even Nizam al-Din, despite his resistance to such narratives, was associated with this role. He
was believed to have predicted the fall of Mubarak Khalji and the rise of Ghiyas al-Din
Tughluq. These stories elevated the saint’s foresight above worldly intrigues, suggesting that
divine will—channeled through the saint—determined the fate of kings.
Although Nizam al-Din rejected the label of “kingmaker” and discouraged his disciples from
seeking royal patronage, the popular perception of his role persisted. Rulers, in turn, sought
his blessing, understanding that spiritual endorsement could strengthen their political
legitimacy.
A recurring motif in both hagiography and popular memory is that disrespecting a saint
invited divine retribution. This belief functioned as a moral check on the Sultanate’s power,
reinforcing the spiritual superiority of saints over temporal rulers.
The most famous instance is the conflict between Nizam al-Din and Ghiyas al-Din Tughluq.
After compelling the saint to appear at a tribunal, the Sultan was warned, “Hanuz Dilli dur
ast” (Delhi is still far away). When the Sultan was later killed by a collapsing pavilion, many
interpreted it as the fulfillment of the saint’s ominous words.
This belief system created a “moral economy” in which kings were accountable to saints, and
divine justice intervened when rulers overstepped. Stories of Ala al-Din Khalji’s later illness
or the decline of his dynasty were likewise viewed as spiritual retaliation for his arrogance
toward Sufis.
The authority of saints, then, was not enforced through arms but through the moral and
cosmic order. Wilayat represented a higher, divinely sanctioned sovereignty—one that no
king could safely ignore.
CONCLUSION
The relationship between Sufis and Sultans in medieval India was defined by a subtle yet
persistent conflict between temporal and spiritual authority. Through the concept of wilayat,
Sufi shaykhs claimed a divine mandate that often placed them above the reach of royal
power. While Sultans sought to assert dominance through force and patronage, Sufi saints
wielded influence through popular veneration and spiritual legitimacy. This dynamic made
the khanaqah a potent moral counterbalance to the court, and ensured that Sufism
remained a vital force in shaping the political and religious life of the Indian subcontinent.
QUESTIONS:
1] examine the socio- economic/ socio- pol bg of the nirguna bhakti movement of the 15th
and 16th centuries.
2] what contributed to the appeal of bhakti among the lower orders in north india during
the 15th and 16th centuries?
3] describe the socio economic and ideological bg of the varkari movement in maharashtra.
4] contribution of kabir and nanak to the bhakti mov. How have they impacted the
contemporary milieu?
5] Do you agree with the view that the popular monotheistic movements which were
represented by kabir and nanak has socio- economic base?
INTRODUCTION
The Bhakti movement was not a unified or homogeneous movement. The monolithic view
of the Bhakti movement has given leeway for general theorisations about its social political
impact (homogenisation), regardless of its many-sided character. The Bhakti movement has
been described as a radical movement aimed at socio-religious reforms and enforcing new
social values. The fact that it included certain fundamentalist and conservative forces as
well, is either ignored or underplayed.
SOURCES
Many scholars have worked on the theme of the Bhakti movement including H.H Wilson,
Albrecht Weber, Lorinser, Monier-Williams and George A. Grierson. Krishna Sharma states
that the definition of Bhakti which is used in most scholarly works, was formulated by
Western Indologists of the 19th century who connected it to Christian concept of personal
God. This was done to combat the impersonalisation of God in modern European
philosophy. While observing the Vaishnavas in Bengal, Wilson wrote that their religion could
be summed up in one word “bhakti”. His reference to Bhakti as a religion opened the way in
Western scholarship for treating Krishna-Bhakti as the ‘Bhakti Religion’ with Vaishnavism in
general. The works of Albrecht Weber and Monier-Williams contributed to this. Weber’s in
depth study of the Krishna cult made the connection between the Krishna cult and ‘Bhakti
religion’ more firm. Lorinser identified the Bhagavad Gita as the relevant scripture for Bhakti.
Following this, Monier-Williams used this information to connect Bhakti religion with
Vaishnavism.
Krishna Sharma states that the academic works of the western indologists have made the
Bhakti movement synonymous with Vaishnavism. He challenges the monolithic view of
Bhakti (concept of personal God), the idea that Bhakti was a response to Islam and the
marxist view that Bhakti reflected a feudal order.
SOCIO-POLITICAL BACKGROUND
In the late 13th century, the Khalji’s came to power. At this point of time, Jiziya was levied. To
escape this, many Hindus converted to Islam. By 1320 AD the Khalji dynasty was replaced by
the Tughlaqs who ruled for almost 80 years. This period witnessed an increase in the
number of sufis and saints like Namdev in Punjab and Ramananda in Benaras were working
with missionary zeal.
In 1398 AD the Mongols under the leadership of Timur broke through the northern part of
the Indian Subcontinent. After sacking Delhi, Timur left for Central Asia leaving behind a
nominee to rule over Punjab. The nominee in Timur’s absence used the opportunity to
capture Delhi and became the founding Sultan of the Sayyid Dynasty. It was during this
period that Saint and Sufi movements reached their high points. The demolition of Hindu
Temples, Jizya tax and other such measures towards non-Muslims weakened the people’s
resolve to follow the religion of their ancestors which gave them inferior status and the
rituals were also expensive. Hence, this period witnessed the conversion of the low caste
Hindus to Islam. This was the socio-political climate in which Kabir and Nanak lived.
There was a large section of people who were both Hindu and Muslim, meaning that in
reality they were neither Hindu nor Muslim. Kabir was also part of this group. Krishna
Sharma explains this using the concept of Monotheism or the ‘Oneness of God’.
Bhakti had a strong social base and was popular among the common man because the
Saints made no tall demands on them. They spoke of a religion of love. This arrangement
was very convenient during times when political instability and violence of all sorts was
prevalent. Krishna Sharma takes the example of Kabir as a case study to elucidate the point
that all mediaeval bhaktas can neither be adjusted with the present definition of bhakti, nor
with the ideological movements led by Ramanuja, Nimbarka, Madhava and Vallabha. This is
true for all Nirguna Bhaktas of the period. Kabir preceded Nanak and though they formed
separate sects, they shared many common beliefs. The movements they led gave shape to a
new cult called the. Nirguna Pantha. This cult was against the rigid and exclusive structure
of the caste system which gave supremacy to brahmins.
BACKGROUND TO KABIR
The Julaha community of weavers in which Kabir was raised was one such section of Hindus
who had converted to Islam, but whose process of conversion was still incomplete. William
Dwyer holds such transitional circumstances as responsible for Kabir’s Hindu leanings
despite being raised in a Muslim family. Kabir’s weaver clan must have been of very low
caste, who had undergone conversion just a few generations before Kabir’s birth.
Another opinion that many more scholars hold is that these particular Julahas were
originally those Nath yogis who had deviated from the strict Nath code of celibacy and
entered the practice of wedlock. Critics like Kshitimohan Sen and William Dwyer point out
that Hindu weavers are found at a variety of caste levels including some who, especially in
Bengal, call themselves Jugis or Yogis. Kshitimohan Sen in his work, on Medieval Mysticism,
identifies them as the Nath Yogis arguing that in the early days of Muslim conquest many
Naths became Muslims and Julahas. These Yogis who are said to have forsaken the strict
celibate state of the Nath sect, and to have married, were for this reason regarded as of very
low status in Hindu society. Even prior to conversion to Islam they had rejected caste, and
Brahaman domination. There are many facts that incline us to think that the Julahas into
which Kabir was born were married to Nath Yogis who converted to Islam.
Kabir’s references to yoga in his poetry signify that he took his practice of yoga seriously,
that he actually experienced some of the effects of it as described in yoga literature. But, as
is characteristic of Kabir’s Bhakti- all else is subordinate to, and used as a means to, his union
with Ram. He used the yoga terminology, modified it to express the idea of merging with
Ram.
Some prominent symbols in the yogic text are, (a) the inverted thousand-petaled lotus in
the cranium from which the nectar of immortality drips. Drinking the ambrosial nectar
dripping from the lotus is supposed to give immortality to the yogi. For Kabir, who is not
interested in immortality, that nectar is the way to union with Ram. Often the yogic symbol
of the thousand-petaled lotus is also replaced with (b) the metaphor of the sky, to denote
the highest point of yogic recession. And lastly (c), the reference to the ‘three strand snare’,
meaning the three gunas of sattva, rajas and tamas (representing subtlety, action and
grossness respectively).
Kabir rejected the concept of avatar vada and denied recognition to Ram as a human form.
He carried the concept of religious liberation even further and abandoned both Hinduism
and Islam, in favour of the pure essential Ram - that light of divine love in the heart. Kabir
was always in search of company of his own kind. He went around meeting bhaktas and wise
men of both Hindu and Muslim communities, holding dialogue with the Saints and Sufis of
his time. Among the Sufis of his age, he had a very close contact with Shaikh Takki who
belonged to the Suhrawardi branch of the Sufis. Whether Takki was his peer or his rival is
not clear. Nanak who shared the same ideology with Kabir, continued the task of cleansing
the socio-religious corruption of his times.
BACKGROUND TO NANAK
In [Link]’s book, ‘Guru Nanak In History’, he describes the reality of day to day existence
at the local level among people living around the bend of the fifteenth and sixteenth
centuries. He informs us that the mutual contact of Hindus and Muslims had been gradually
developing at several levels. Some Hindu works were being translated into Persian for the
benefit of Persian knowing Muslims, many Hindus were learning and teaching Persian or
even using it as the medium of artistic expressions. Regional languages were being
adopted by some of the Sufis for communication of their ideas to both Muslims and Hindus.
Even among the serious professors of religion it was not uncommon to exchange ideas on
matters of belief and practice. Mutual appreciation resulted in adoption of ideas or
practices from a faith other than one’s own. In the fifteenth century Muslim Sufis, it is said,
mixed with Hindu Sadhus, Sannyasis and Jogis for inspiration and guidance, without
acknowledging the source in public. Similarities between different forms of faith were
occasionally recognised and appreciated. Some new forms of belief and practice were
adding to the richness and variety of the religious scene. And there was a good deal of
rivalry between the various religious groups, in the midst of this rivalry, many of the
contestants had come to believe that salvation was the birth right of every human being
irrespective of his caste, creed or sex. This was the background in which Guru Nanak existed.
Nanak, like his Sant comrades, carried forth the idiom of reformative protest, which had
characterised the tradition of the Bhakti movement. The Sants denied all visible, external
manifestations, and advocated instead, a devotion that was subtle, natural, free of all
earthly ritual and bondage, and based upon love and devotion for the Nirguna (without
attributes).
The Bhakti movement in mediaeval India brought with it not only religious reform, but also a
linguistic and literary revolution of the highest possible order. It was the most modern of
the movements of reform until the late nineteenth century.
The mystic poets excelled; their strength lay in poetic appeal. By translating divinity into the
subtlest of experiences, the Sants had reached the same plain where great poets, great
thinkers, great musicians and great scientists reach in their quest for truth and reality in their
subtlest and final forms. In compositions of both Nanak and Kabir, there is a good deal of
emphasis upon the absolute need for the guru and the guru's grace. The guru more often
is, the shabad- the inner voice, the illumined conscience (that lies dormant in people at
large), of the fearless champion of truth. Therefore, the mystics stress upon inner cleaning
and purging so that grace can be received when it is given. In his verses, Nanak repeatedly
emphasises this aspect of Bhakti.
Nanak was the last of the major Sant poets and the first poet of the Sikh faith. The Sant
poets had taught people to become warriors of the soul and to pull out the tree of
temptation, ego, and sin, like weed. The nine Sikh gurus who were to follow Nanak, would
translate the tenets of the Sant tradition, and become, not only warriors of the soul, but
warriors of the soil as well. Nanak steered the Sant tradition further by translating the
doctrines of the Sants into practical life. The Sant traditions had already induced the practice
of satsang (community singing of elevating mystic hymns), among the Indian public. Nanak
added to this the practice of langar where all used to sit together and eat food cooked in a
common kitchen. A practical means of erasing caste distinctions - this was first begun by
Ramananda, but it was not followed too seriously.
The most significant contribution that Nanak made to society was, initiating the culture of
passing-on the spiritual leadership of a religion (Nanak disowned all social status and norms.
He is well known for saying, there is no Hindu. No Muslim’), which was perceived as a very
practical and responsible decision on Nanak’s part. For he ensured that the disciples were in
good care after his demise and that the vision of the Sants lasted stronger down the
centuries.
CONCLUSION
According to Irfan Habib, the movement led by Bhaktas like Kabir and Nanak had opened a
new avenue for social mobility of two classes in particular- the artisans and craftsmen in the
towns and the rural peasant groups. Since this meant breaking caste rules, the anti-caste
religious movement of Kabir and Kanank found a greater following amongst the growing
class of these artisans in North India. He states that Bhakti became popular within this class
due to the appeal of new egalitarian ideology.
In conclusion, the Nirguna Bhakti movement created a space for those oppressed by the
caste system, it appealed to the common man through poetry and provided a more
egalitarian system which seemed to be less rigid and more inclusive.
QUESTIONS:
1] to what extent did the medieval women bhakti saints challenge the conventions of
patriarchal society
2] explain the social context of the emergence of women bhaktas in medieval indian society.
Can they be labellled conformists or rebels?/ use suitable examples.
3] medieval women bhakti saints were not revolutionary’. Elucidate this statement with
suitable examples.
WOMEN BHAKTAS
The Bhakti movements in medieval India were monotheistic devotional sects that
emphasized love and surrender to a single god—either nirguna (formless) or saguna (with
form)—over ritual and scholarly knowledge. Often led by individuals from marginalized
castes, these movements offered spiritual access to all, regardless of caste, class, gender, or
religion. Women found a significant, though limited, voice within this tradition. The 12th-
century Virashaiva movement saw prominent women saints like Mahadevi Yakka and
Muktayakka, though this trend did not continue beyond the century. Nevertheless, figures
such as Mirabai and the Warkari women saints of Maharashtra carved out spiritual spaces
for women, challenging patriarchal norms. From the 7th century onward, as Bhakti spread
from South India to regions like Maharashtra, Bengal, and Orissa, it began to deviate from
the orthodox Brahmanical and Puranic traditions, incorporating more inclusive and
egalitarian ideals.
This essay aims at analysing the social context in which women Bhaktas emerged and their
‘conformist’ or ‘rebellious’ nature using the views put forth by Uma Chakravarty, Vijaya
Ramaswamy, Kumkum Sangari and Rekha Pande among others.
SOCIAL CONTEXT/BACKGROUND
Bhakti was a movement where lower castes found space to experience spirituality.
However, women faced certain restrictions due to the nature of patriarchal society. Among
the marginalised social categories, women suffered a dual deprivation - First, was the
Brahmanical laws prevalent which prevented women from embarking on the spiritual path.
Second was the existence of the oppressive patriarchal structure which ostracised ‘deviant
spiritual women’. For instance, Maharashtra in the 13th century was under Yadava rule and
was an example of a mediaeval state where there was a coalition of the ruling classes with
the Brahmans, which dominated and exploited the peasantry and lower castes. Women,
irrespective of their caste/class, were subject to domination in the patriarchal society.
Deviant behaviour on the part of a low-caste male can still be acceptable within the
patriarchal framework; and at least his wife and the women of his household will accept his
claims to spiritual apprenticeship. In a similar situation a woman who, like a low-caste male,
defies the Brahmanical taboo on female spirituality will find herself confronted with the
solid wall of male antagonism, whether in the form of her husband, father or brother. The
contestation of female spirituality was bound to be even sharper in the case of the husband
whose superiority vis-a-vis his wife is assured within the patriarchal society. Hence,
spiritually-inclined women would have to opt out of a society dominated by Brahmanical
norms as well as out of marriage, since marriage again would be conditioned by patriarchy.
The Bhakti movement provided Indian women with that freedom which orthodox Hindu
society denied to them. The emergence of women saints took place in the context of the
bhakti or devotional movements which characterised the mediaeval age in India.
The Warkaris were those who took annual pilgrimages or Waris to the samdhi sthals of
saints like Jnanseshwar,Tukaraman etc. Admission into the Varkari panth cut across caste
and gender distinctions. Most saints and followers were from underprivileged sections of
society, low castes, poor untouchables and women. Vijaya Ramaswamy describes the Varkari
movement in its conception as a spiritual confluence in which all binary oppositions were
submerged – man-woman, Brahmin-outcaste, wealthy-poor, etc.
REVOLUTIONARY OR CONFORMIST
Given a patriarchal social set-up which denied freedom to women, spirituality provided the
only means of self-expression. Women saints ranged from the conformists who were either
the wives, daughters, or sisters of male saints and the rebels who broke every social norm
including the discarding of clothes. Also important to note were the saints who looked upon
themselves as brides of the Lord. The compositions of rebel saints use mystic imagery and
reflect their social alienation. It is interesting that not only the conformists but also the
rebels have found acceptance in the modern Hindu pant. In this answer, we will seek to
examine the tenets of bhakti among women and especially, in relation to the conformists’
vis-à-vis the rebels. While examining this, if at one end of the spectrum one has the rebel -
Akka Mahãdêvi, one can locate the pious and chaste housewives, the ideal stereotype of
womanhood like Vãsukiyãr, the wife of Tiruvalluvar; the wives of the Vïrasaivite saints like
Basava's wives.
Interestingly, while it has often been argued that the lives of the women saints represent the
rejection of patriarchal society and the subversion of gender roles, Vijaya Ramaswamy
argues for the existence of patriarchy at the spiritual level. She argues that the expression
of the devotion of the bhaktins retains a familial paradigm. The deity worshipped is always
male and even though both men and women worship the deity in its masculinity, there is no
case of the deity being worshipped in a feminine form. The fact that most of these women
bhaktas seem to have had a male mentor (e.g. Ravidas in the case of Mira and Basava in the
case of Mahadevi Akka) is also an indication that it was not entirely a rebellion against
patriarchy. This is disputed by Uma Chakravarty who asserts that there exists a relationship
of equality between the bhakta and the deity and that subordination is purely voluntary.
Ruth Vanita and Madhu Kishwar assert that the conceptualization of the deity as the
bridegroom and the bhakta as the bride is a religious idiom and not indicative of a
patriarchal relation at the spiritual level. Further the acceptance of a feminine attitude and
the bridal metaphor by even male bhaktas indicates, they argue, that this idiom dissolves
gender roles at the spiritual level rather than reinforcing patriarchy.
The experience of bhakti was not the same for all women. The Alvar saint Andal refused to
marry anyone but Vishnu. Her poetry is filled with yearning for him. She describes a vision
of her marriage with him. Legend says that she disappeared into the idol of Vishnu at
Srirangam after having been married to him. In contrast, the Nayanar saint Karaikkal
Ammaiyar whose spiritual power so overwhelmed her husband that he left her to seek
another wife. She then called upon Shiva to take away her beauty so that she could spend
the rest of her life in his service; this wish is granted. From then on, she dances like a pey, a
demoness in the cremation grounds of Thiruvalangadu.
However, several women saints achieved union with God without leaving the household.
Saints such as Isainaniyar in the Nayanar tradition conform to the patriarchal role model of
dutiful wives. The saintly wife who achieves a spontaneous connection with God without
leaving the home is a prominent figure in the Bhakti tradition. It cannot be argued therefore
that all women saints functioned outside patriarchal norms. The saint Avvaiyar, for instance,
adheres to patriarchal norms in her hymns, despite her own rejection of marriage.
WOMEN SAINTS
The life and works of the women saints remain unknown unlike that of the men saints. This
was partly due to the fact that none of them established a guruparamparã or monastic
tradition with disciples who might have preserved the sayings or compositions of the
[Link] few of the north Indian women saints really gained any recognition of their
spiritual greatness during their life time. They were usually scorned by their
contemporaries as "mad" and "shameless." Lalla was called "mats” or mad and Mira
referred to herself as diwãni, one who is not in her senses. The one exception seems to have
been Venãbãi, the disciple of Samartha Rãmadãsa (17th century) who became the head of
the math at Miraj. This is, however, not true of southern India where the women saints
including Akka Mahãdêvi or the naked saint, and Kãraikkãl Ammaiyãr, called pëyar or
demoness, were greatly revered by their followers as well as peers. Akka Mahãdêvi was in
fact a leading member of the Vïrasaivite council of saints.
After examining who had access to spiritual knowledge, we can conclude that women who
came from priestly classes seemed to have access to spiritual knowledge even though they
were excluded from the Gurukul system. This includes Lalla and Rupa Bhavani of Kashmir,
Muktabai, Bahivabai and Mahadamba of Maharashtra. Lower caste women didn’t not have
access to [Link] relied on the spiritual knowledge found in folk traditions. Some common
themes in the life of women saints were marriage, bridal mysticism, sexuality and nudity.
Uma Chakravarty states that escape from marriage was almost necessary for a Bhaktin. A
male Bhakta could follow his chosen path and be a homeowner. Bhaktins on the other hand
were burdened by the obstacles of home, family tensions, the absent husband,
meaningless household chores, and restrictions of married life, including their status as
married women. They rejected traditional women’s roles and societal norms by leaving
husbands and homes altogether, choosing to become wandering bhaktas; in some
instances, they formed communities with other poet-saints For example, Mira wore the
tabooed ghunghroos and danced in public, Mahadevi Akka and Lal Ded discarded clothing
altogether. Avvaiyar who escapes the conflict between devotion towards god and devotion
towards the husband by transforming herself into an old woman. In the case of Karaikkal
Ammaiyar, she is able to pursue a spiritual path only after her husband leaves her. Lal Ded,
Mira and Mahadevi Akka all have to contend with marriage and a mortal husband. All three
refuse to consummate their marriage.
Bridal mysticism or the conceptualization of the bhakta as the bride of the Lord is a
recurrent trend in the devotion of many female bhaktas. The god is addressed by the
bhaktin as her lover or husband. Mira is a very popular example of this. Women saints used
their sexuality either to achieve union with the absolute like Andal, or renounce their
sexuality like Kariakkal Ammaiyar. While talking about nudity, Uma Chakravarty states that
nudity represented defiance of the vulnerability of the female body. These saints
channelled their femininity towards God rather than their mortal husbands. The saint’s fear
of violation is cast away with her clothing. Ramaswamy states that the casting away of
clothing (modesty) and adoption of an indifference to gender leads to liberation. Yet the
difference between women and men could not be completely resolved. The bhaktins may
have freed themselves from the social norms of behaviour, but they still lived within the
confines of their female body. The acceptance of women saints within orthodox religion
was also not an immediate process. Iconographic representations of Karaikkal Ammaiyar do
not appear until the 12th century. While the Tiruppavaiof Andal is sung on festive occasions,
especially marriages, her more erotic Nachchiyar Tirumozhi is never sung within the temple
context.
In conclusion, though many Women Bhaktas did reject the patriarchal norms of society, it
was not the main objective of their movement. Spirituality provided Indian women with
that freedom which orthodox Hindu society denied to them. Women Bhaktas, both
conformist and rebellious Bhaktas were able to obtain this spirituality.
Q.2 To what extent did the medieval women bhakti saints challenge the conventions of
patriarchal society?
The Bhakti movement began in South India in the sixth-seventh century and gradually
spread throughout the country. It was, by and large, marked by the rejection of the existing
ritual hierarchy and Brahmanical superiority; the use of the vernacular in preference to
Sanskrit (the language of the elite); the emergence of low-caste, non-literate persons as
great spiritual leaders and large-scale participation of ritually inferior classes. In the light of
this background, the emergence of women saints during this period takes on great
significance. Spirituality provided Indian women with that freedom which orthodox Hindu
society denied to them. From the earliest historical times, Dharmasãstras and the Smritis,
especially Manusmriti, prescribed female obedience, chastity and surrender to the male, be
it father, husband or son.
Two medieval customs reinforced and strengthened the exploitation of women. One was
purdãh or the veiling of women which was common among the upper class Hindus and
Rajputs, in particular in the north. The other more heinous custom was the practice of
mounting the funeral pyre of one's husband, glorified by the name of sati. Two primary
factors behind the social exploitation of women was their lack of education and economic
independence. Thus traditional society seemed to provide no scope for either the
independence or the self-expression of women.
The spiritual path helped women to break out of all stereotypes, chains of tradition,
orthodoxy and convention which attempted to control their sexuality. The life and works of
the women saints are shrouded in mystery unlike that of the male saints. This was partly due
to the fact that none of them established a guruparamparã or monastic tradition with
disciples who might have preserved their sayings or compositions. The one exception seems
to have been Venãbãi, the disciple of Samartha Rãmadãsa (17th century) who became the
head of the math at Miraj. Mira too had a following and the "Mira Bais" seem to have
constituted a minor sect in the medieval period. But very few of the north Indian women
saints really gained any recognition of their spiritual greatness during their lifetime. They
were usually scorned by their contemporaries as "mad" and "shameless." Lalla of Kashmir
was called mats or mad and Meera referred to herself as diwãni, one who is not in her
senses.
This is, however, not true of southern India where the women saints including Akka
Mahãdêvi or the naked saint, and Kãraikkãl Ammaiyãr, called pëyar or demoness, were
greatly revered by their followers as well as peers. Akka Mahãdêvi was in fact a leading
member of the Vïrasaivite council of saints. Women saints came predominantly from the
priestly class or from the shudra professional groups. One plausible explanation for this is
the higher awareness levels of both these groups. The Brahmin women had some access to
education, both sacred and secular. This is true of Lalleswari or Lalla and Rüpa Bhavãni of
Kashmir; Muktãbãi, Bahinãbãi, and Mahadamba of Maharashtra; and among the South
Indian saints Ãndãl, the only woman Ãlwãr saint. The awareness of the shudra women arose
from the fact that economically they were almost coequal with men. These women, though
excluded from scriptural knowledge, could and did have access to knowledge which was
based on folk traditions not in Sanskrit but in local languages.
Vijaya Ramaswamy classifies women saints into a few broad categories based on their choice
of spiritual path and their particular interaction with traditional society. On one end of the
spectrum is the rebel, like Akka Mahadevi while on the other is the chaste housewife like
Vasukiyar, the wife of Tiruvalluvar. Somewhere in the middle lie those women who gave up
their home and a conventional style of life only when they were driven to it and left with no
other option. Karaikkal Ammaiyar would be the best example of this category. Another
category consists of women saints who never went through an earthly marriage like Andal
(an Alvar), Muktabai and Janabai (Vaishnavites), among others.
A.K. Ramanujan has attempted a "flow chart of possibilities" of the stages of life for women
saints. But while his chart categorises variations in the behavior patterns of the
unconventional saints, it leaves out the conformists like Vasukiyãr. The majority of women
saints were not social rebels in the conventional sense of the term. Quite a few of them
seem to have accepted the yoke of marriage as inevitable. In fact, Vãsuki subscribed entirely
to the traditional role model of women. In contrast, the question of Akka Mahãdêvi' s
marriage is controversial due to the ambiguity in the medieval sources themselves. While
one source says that Mahãdêvi went to king Kausika's place but never married him because
he refused to give up Jainism, another writer, Harihara, refers to her marriage with king
Kausika and her ultimate renunciation. All sources, however, agree that her renunciation
came when she walked out naked from Kausika's palace with her long hair as her only
covering. This self-expression of nudity was also seen as a challenge to patriarchal norms of
chastity and femininity.
North Indian women saints like Lalla, Mirabai, and Rüpa Bhaväni abandoned oppressive
marriages to pursue spiritual paths. Rüpa Bhaväni, married before ten and abused for dowry,
left to study under the aegis of Sufi saint Shah Sadiq Qalandar. Mirabai's poetry reflects her
suffering under her in-laws' persecution. Combining ill-treatment with an unnatural
husband-wife relationship, Kãraikkãl Ammaiyãr's husband, intimidated by her spiritual
power, abandoned her. When reunited, he prostrated before her— a radical reversal of
traditional Hindu wifely devotion. Embracing her liberation, she transformed into a skeletal
pey (demoness), rejecting conventional feminine ideals of beauty and gentleness akin to
other women saints. The entire cult of the worship of pey or demonesses is to be viewed as
the antithesis of the feminine image.
It is interesting to note that many women saints embraced divine marriage, rejecting earthly
unions while paradoxically adopting patriarchal symbolism in spirituality. Mirabai considered
Krishna her true husband, ceremonially garlanding his idol.
Scholar Kumkum Sangari notes that Mira, like other widowed saints, denied her earthly
marriage entirely, rejecting familial and social structures. Akka Mahadevi expressed intense
devotion to Shiva as her lover, while the daughter of Periyalwar, Andal (named "Garland" for
adorning Vishnu's idol daily) and Kerala's Nanga Pennu— who fled her wedding to merge
with the image of Lord Visnu in the Trippunittura temple— demonstrated radical defiance
through spiritual spousal bonds. Their divine marriages subverted social norms while
mirroring patriarchal frameworks. Irrespective of the school of thought that she
represented, the woman saint unlike her male counterpart was totally free from inhibitions.
She recognised neither male nor female nor suffered from body consciousness.
An entire discussion by the male saints on the nakedness of Akka Mahãdêvi took place in the
"Anubhava Mantapa" and is narrated in the Virasaivite vachanãs. Allamma Prabhu led the
attack. Mahadëvi's reply is a telling one. She claims that she covers her body not so much for
herself as to save others from temptation. The best defense of Akka Mahadëvi's action,
however, came from her guru Basavanna, who said that a true devotee needed neither body
nor shame nor clothes. The Kashmiri saint Lalla is again said to have discarded her clothes
and danced naked. This shedding of all inhibitions constituted the ultimate act of defiance
by these women saints. It was their flagrant denial of women's sexuality and their refusal to
conform to sexual expectations.
Some like Auvaiyãr, however, got around the whole social problem of women's sexuality and
moral controls by achieving instant old age through an act of miracle. Another dimension to
the breaking of norms comes from the life of Karuramma, a 17th century saint from Kerala.
In a startling instance of the breaking of ritual taboo on female pollution during their
menstrual cycle, Karuramma entered the sanctum sanctorum and engaged in worship. Her
action shocked her contemporary, Vilvamangala Svãmi, who rebuked her. Karûramma
retaliated, asserting that the right to salvation was more important than the preservation of
ritual taboos.
These women saints also left their homes to mingle freely with male saints and scholars.
Mira sang: "By keeping company with saints, I have lost the respect of society." Akka
Mahãdêvi similarly asked how one could avoid the company of male saints after having been
part of the same spiritual tradition.
CONCLUSION
The emergence, life and creative works of these women saints thus had a significant impact
on contemporary society. Their contribution was both direct and conscious as well as
indirect and unconscious. By and large, the compositions of women saints represent the
intense personal search for God in the midst of wholly uncongenial familial and social
circumstances. Their comment on the overall social situation is an indirect one. As with the
male saints of the bhakti movement there is usually no overt effort to critically examine or
overturn the existing social order. In the saintly pantheon of Hinduism, the acceptance of
Andal and Auvaiyãr has been found to be easier than the acceptance of rebels like Lalla or
Akka Mahãdêvi. Andal was unconventional in her thought rather than in behavior and did
not openly flout any social rules except for opting to remain single, and in this respect she
had the support of her saintly father Periyalwãr. Mira's bhakti is contradictory; it protests
and assists in its appropriations, has both a radicalising potential and a compensatory
character. A product of social change, aspiring to level certain forms of inequality, it also
participates in making a vocabulary and structures of feeling which can compensate for the
absence of those desired freedoms. Thus, consciously or unconsciously, these women saints
made a departure from the norms of social behavior and spurned the limitations imposed by
their family and by society. It is a moot point whether their compositions carried the
overtones of protest. Their very emergence was a social revolt in itself.
The experiences of female bhaktas differed significantly based on regional and social contexts. In southern India, saints like Akka Mahadevi were greatly revered and were active members of spiritual councils, indicating more acceptance and respect for female spiritual leaders . In contrast, northern women saints often faced societal scorn and were less likely to gain recognition during their lifetimes . Additionally, women from priestly classes had greater access to spiritual knowledge, while lower-caste women had to rely on folk traditions . These differences underline the varying cultural and social dynamics influencing female saintly lives across regions in medieval India .
Women saints in medieval India faced significant challenges in achieving recognition for their spiritual contributions. Many were scorned by contemporaries as "mad" or "shameless," with very few, especially in northern India, gaining spiritual recognition during their lifetimes . Their works and lives often went unrecorded due to the lack of monastic traditions and disciples to preserve their teachings. However, in southern India, figures like Akka Mahadevi and Karaikkal Ammaiyar were revered despite these societal prejudices . This dichotomy highlights both the gender biases in spiritual recognition and the regional differences in the acceptance of female spiritual authority .
Bridal mysticism holds significant importance in devotional practices of women saints, as it embodies the concept of the female bhakta as the bride of the divine. This motif allowed women like Mira to express profound spiritual union with God, bypassing societal norms for female behavior . By addressing the Divine as a lover or husband, women saints could transcend earthly constraints, channeling their devotion through personal and spiritual relationships rather than traditional marital roles . This mysticism thus offered a means for women to assert their spiritual autonomy and connect intimately with the divine, despite societal limitations .
Barani's personal biases and ideological tensions profoundly influenced his depiction of political figures. His portrayal of Firuz Shah, resembling more of a eulogy, reveals political expediency and subjective biases . While he demonstrated an orthodox religious tone, his avoidance of criticizing Muhammad bin Tughlaq’s tolerance towards Hindus indicates pragmatic accommodation rather than strict adherence to ideology . These biases reflect broader ideological tensions, impacting his ability to provide an objective historical account and indicating that his personal and class concerns sometimes overshadowed historical truth .
Barani critiques the Delhi Sultanate's economy by highlighting the extraction of heavy surplus from the agrarian base, taxing half the grain, and imposing levies that weakened the rural aristocracy . He notes that this surplus funded grain price controls in Delhi, which led to low wages and poor purchasing power, thereby worsening rural poverty . Barani's analysis reflects an understanding of the socio-economic dynamics as he critically examines the consequences of the policies on different social classes, linking economic exploitation to broader political power structures .
The historiographical debates regarding Alauddin Khilji's market reforms center on their economic and social implications. Barani provides a comprehensive account, noting the successful control of supply, transportation, and consumption, as well as the efficiency of these reforms . However, scholars like U.N. Day challenge the reforms' success, disputing Barani's claims of lower prices and suggesting the measures aimed at curbing excessive market prices rather than achieving economy . Other critics, including V.A Smith, highlight the oppressive nature and limited long-term success post-Alauddin’s reign, reflecting divergent views on the reforms' legacy and human costs . This debate underscores the complexity of evaluating administrative policies within varying historical contexts .
Familial relations and personal ties played a crucial role in the governance of the Delhi Sultanate, as emphasized by Sunil Kumar. He argues that personalized ties between sultans and gulams were key to ensuring loyalty and controlling nobles . Unlike the more formalized iqta system, these personal relationships were vital for managing power dynamics within the Sultanate, indicating a governance model where individual bonds and familial connections could supersede institutional arrangements .
The Iqta system demonstrated stability by providing a structured means of revenue extraction and troop maintenance, supporting centralized bureaucratic governance . However, instability arose as the system evolved towards hereditary entitlements, which weakened central control . Strong sultans could exert control over the iqtas, but weaker rulers often conceded power to nobles, highlighting a tension between central authority and local autonomy . This dual nature of the Iqta system underscores the Sultanate's struggle to balance power, showcasing its adaptability yet also its inherent fragility .
Barani's integration of religious and economic insights into his historiography reflects a complex understanding of the Delhi Sultanate's socio-political landscape. His emphasis on the impracticality of a literal interpretation of Sharia in governance highlights a pragmatic approach to religion and statecraft . By linking economic practices like taxation with issues of class and governance, Barani portrays a society where religious ideals interact with economic realities, offering a nuanced perspective of the Sultanate's operations beyond pure theological or economic lenses. This approach allows him to critically assess policies such as those of Alauddin Khalji, acknowledging both the moral and material dimensions of governance .
Sufi spiritual authority had a significant impact on the political dynamics of the Delhi Sultanate, particularly through the Chishti and Suhrawardi orders. These Sufi orders wielded considerable spiritual influence, often presenting moral authority that occasionally rivaled the political authority of the Sultans . The concept of wilayat, or spiritual dominion, allowed Sufi saints to hold sway over the masses, challenging the state's political control. This competition for influence created a complex interaction between the Sufi spiritual and Sultanate political realms, influencing governance and societal values during the period .