“Princess Gulbadan was the daughter of the emperor Babur (1483-1530), the founder of the Mughal dynasty in India and a direct descendant of Timur (Tamburlaine). She was about eight years old when her father died in 1530, and years later, when her nephew Akbar asked her to write about her half-brother and his father, Humayun, she produced a vivid and detailed picture of the turbulent years of the conquest of Hindustan (India) by her father and later rule by her brother. Stimulating topics and events in her account include border-crossings from Kabul to Indian cities such as Lahore, Agra, and Fatehpur Sikri; various military campaigns by the rulers; and the complex kinship structures of the Muslim aristocracy, especially the role of women in relationships with men, other women, and children.
Only one manuscript copy of Gulbadan’s Humayun nama, as it is known, has been found, and there is no direct mention of the work in the period. Although a seemingly unfamiliar work among the many biographies and manuscripts of the Mughals, including her father’s more famous Baburnama (ca, 1528—1530), translated into Persian in 1589), Gulbadan’s narrative is unique in illuminating the world of early modern Islamic kingdoms and cultures from a Muslim woman's perspective. And, importantly, in offering a non-European perspective, Gulbadans memoir pluralizes and interrogates subsequent European history of the early modern period by charting the formation of Hindustan through the writing of the "culturally other” within intra-Islamic social, political, and cultural formations.
One has to place an imaginary compass point in early modern Timurid cities like Kabul, Herat, Samarkand, or Lahore, and the Safavid and Turco-Mongolian kingdoms of the west and north 一 including some parts of the Ottoman Empire to the east 一 to understand this central/south Asian Muslim world and to get a sense of the many intermingling peoples and communities within a broad central Asian Muslim aristocracy, often perceived as the Timurid cultural sphere. The languages within this circle also proliferate: Persian, Arabic, Turkish, and Hindi/Hindustani. From the Ottoman vantage point, Hindustan or India is the point farthest east in the Muslim world picture. Thus, Gulbadan’s travels in this world from Kabul to cities in Hindustan such as Agra, including a journey to Mecca in between, produce nuanced, gently gendered accounts of varied cross-border relationships, affiliations, and social arrangements that resulted from the sweeping thrust of early Mughal conquests.
In imagining this early modern Islamic world, we cannot think in terms of the category of the "nation" but, rather, more in the context of cultural, linguistic, religious, and lineage affiliations by which the inhabitants of these regions imagined their communities and kingdoms. Boundaries were inevitably porous, given that their invaders were conquerors who traversed borders across and beyond the traditional Islamic worlds. Gulbadan’s memoir captures this sense of almost nomadic movements into unstable and unfamiliar territories and depicts as well the beginnings of a new empire that implanted itself in Indian life for posterity.
She spent her childhood under the rule of her father Babur in Kabul and Hindustan; her girlhood and young wifehood saw the fall, exile, and return of Humayun, her half-brother; and her maturity and failing years were under the protection of her nephew, Akbar. Although her incomplete manuscript ends abruptly and does not cover actual events beyond Humayun’s rule, Gulbadan’s vision of the Mughal dynastic and familial networks and their attendant power struggles opens up a complex picture of the Central Asian Islamic worlds of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. This essay, I hope, will expand early modern Europe's increasing awareness of a trans-national and trans-cultural global world.
This was a world that Europeans began to recognize through their travel, explorations, commerce, and emerging colonization, but one that they could not always "translate"—either linguistically or culturally — in intelligible terms for themselves. While the traffic in goods and people brought the Islamic, especially the Ottoman, world closer to Europe, intra-Islamic interactions remained beyond the purview of European historicism for which Christian Europe remained the center of inquiry, Gulbadan’s narrative of early Mughal history offers a detailed exposition of a highly localized profusion of characters to counter the broad thrust of European memory-making and also describes the establishment of the far-reaching Timurid culture, which included Turco-Mongolian communities that had incorporated a Persian civilization.
Starting with Babur’s now famous Baburnama, which is generally considered the first true autobiography in Islamic literature, the writing or commissioning of autobiographies/biographies and chronicles became a standard practice of the Mughal rulers of Hindustan. “Although the biographical sketch had long been an integral part of the literary legacy and biographical dictionaries for various classes abounded, the autobiography as we know it was unheard of when Babur decided, to keep a written record of his life" (Thackston, xviii). He chose to write it in Chaghatay Turkish, which, by the end of his grandson Akbar’s reign (1556-1605), was not much in use in the Mughal court, but an aristocrat Abdul-Rahim Khankhanan translated it into Persian and presented it to Akbar in 1589, aptly after the ruler had visited Babur’s tomb in Kabul.
Later, in the reigns of the two successive Mughal rulers, Jahangir and Shahjahan, many copies of the Persian translation were produced, some of them lavishly illustrated. The circulation of Babur’s memoir is symptomatic of the popularity of biographies/autobiographies or individual chronicles, which became the practice in the Mughal court: consider Akbarnama, (ca» 1596) the chronicle of Akbar’s life, commissioned by the king and written by Abul Fazl, the court historian; Tuzk-i-Jahangiri, the autobiography of the Emperor Jahangir (1569—1609); and the Shahjahannama, a historical biography of the Emperor Shahjahan (1628-1658) compiled by the royal librarian.
We have to view Gulbadan’s Humayunama in this historically-attuned writing culture of the Mughal court; when she was in her fifties, Akbar had ordered historians to chronicle the lives of his father and grandfather. Thus, one can assume that Gulbadan wrote her account in the context of existing sources and models of writing. The details of Gulbadan’s life are largely unchronicled, except that she lived most of her adult life in Agra and Fatehpur Sikri and died in 1603 at the age of eighty. She was particularly mourned by Hamida-banu, Akbar’s mother, and the emperor himself carried her bier for a short distance. Throughout her account Gulbadan evokes a sense of an ancestral cultural community, which is apparent from her father, Babur, calling for "the families of Sahib Qiran [Tamburlaine] or Chinghiz Khan" to join him in Hindustan after the conquest of that land.
Furthermore, she writes about the impact of these forays on the domestic and social arrangements within the communities of women. The narrator weaves together the public and private worlds, most importantly, by taking the readers inside the women's private quarters and experiences as they were affected by the larger forces of war and conquest. Thus, Gulbadan’s attention seems divided between domestic arrangements and military and political events, between deeds of conquest and internal disputes and intrigues. Domestic female households were comprised of the emperor’s multiple wives, with somewhat overlapping or shared maternal roles.
Gulbadan’s mother, Dildar Begum, was one among several wives of Babur, and she bore him five children. His favorite wife, Maham, mother of the heir, Humayun, apparently adopted Hindal, one of Dildar’s sons, and also adopted and reared Gulbadan from the age of two, before her father left Kabul on his many expeditions. Gulbadan refers to her as "my lady”. Overall, the narrator depicts the women's kinship ties as complex, certainly lively, and important to dynastic stability, as these domestic relationships also show the affiliations between the different branches of the descendants of Timur and Genghis Khan. Thus, "the long list of names, confusing though they may be for the reader, show how closely related the different branches of the Timurid and Chinghisid families were".
Furthermore, according to Annette Beveridge, "there was no complete seclusion of these Turki women from the outside world as came to be the rule in Hindustan. The ladies may have veiled themselves, but they received visitors more freely, and more in accordance with the active life of much-travelling peoples” (7). Aristocratic women associated with the rulers and court life played a prominent role in the Mughal empire from its beginnings, which Gulbadan’s memoir covers, and perhaps more so when the rule was consolidated under Akbar, Jahangir, and Shahjahan. Chinghiz Khan is the spelling used by Annette Beveridge of the familiar version of the name Genghis Khan. The adjective Chinghisid is also used by various translators.
Annemarie Schimmel gives us some background on the specific role of women in the Timurid culture: "In order to understand the prominent role of women in the Mughal court [that Gulbadan’s memoir reveals] it has to be borne in mind that women in the Central Asian regions, from which the 'House of Timur originated, enjoyed considerably more freedom and were more active than one imagines in those Central Islamic regions” (144).
The opening pages of Gulbadan’s memoir pay honor to her lineage: first of all, by way or invoking a blessing on my work …a chapter is written about my royal fathers deeds, although these are told in his memoirs. From his Majesty Sahib Qiran [Timur or Tamburlaine from whom the Mughals were descended] down to my royal father there was not one of the bygone princes who labored as he did. … [T]he toils and perils which in the rul ing of kingdoms befell our prince, have been measured out to few, and of few have been recorded the manliness, courage, and endurance which he showed in battlefields and dangers. Twice he took Samarkand by force of the sword. …” (Beveridge, 84)
Gulbadan traces the path of her fathers (and, later, her brothers) con quests within the Afghani regions and gradually into Hindustan: "In seven or eight years since 1519, the royal army had several times renewed the attempt on Hindustan. She records her fathers’ decisive victory at Panipat in Hindustan against the current Muslim ruler: "he [Babur] arrayed battle at Panipat against Sultan Ibrahim.…By God’s grace he was victorious … and the treasures of five kings fell into his hands" (93). Conquests by the male rulers also meant a showering of gifts on the Mughal women, which is evidence of the seizure and movement of goods and bodies from the conquered peoples to the new rulers.
According to the Mughal princess, her victorious father tells his followers returning to Kabul: When you go, I shall send some of the valuable presents and curiosities or Hind which fell into our hands through the victory over Sultan Ibrahim, to my elder relations and sisters and each person of the harem …to each begum [lady] to be delivered as follows: one special dancing girl of the dancing-girls of Sultan Ibrahim, with one gold plate of jewels — ruby and pearl, cornelian, diamond, emerald and turquoise … and two small mother of pearl trays full of ashrafis [gold and silver coins]. (95) Among the "dancing girls” from Hindustan could well be some Hindus women, but we are not given any details; it is only apparent from Gulbadan’s perspective that the Mughal conquest of Hindustan was a harbinger of wealth.
The conquest of the new land resulted in both a sense of displacement and of fluid boundaries for the conquerors and their kin, Gulbadan’s memoir captures the personal dimensions of this displacement, but, interestingly, her account, unlike her fathers, does not offer details of the new land. Instead, we learn how the Mughals brought with them their existing kinship networks and relations. Thus, her vivid childhood memories of geographical names and settings evoke deeply affective family scenes. After the victory at Panipat, Gulbadan notes, her father sends a call for households to follow: "Whoever there be of the families of Sahib Qiran [Tamburlaine] or Chinghiz Khan, let them turn towards our courts The most High has given us sovereignty to Hindustan; let them come that we may see prosperity together” (97).
In response to his call "all the begums [high ladies] and khanums [women] went, ninety-six persons in all, and all received gifts to their hearts desire’’ (97). Among these were daughters of "His Majesty's maternal uncles” (97) The location where this female group settled, was the city of Agra: "He [Babur]] ordered that buildings be constructed in Agra on the other side of the river, and a stone palace with a garden built for him and his harem. He also had a palace built in the audience court, with a reservoir in the middle and four chambers in the four towers” (98). Although Gulbadan records that the Mughals claimed Hindustan by building edifices, often including gardens due to the hot climate ("One day it was extremely hot" [97]), she also reminds her readers of the Muslims sense of alienation from the Hinduland.
In 1527, facing a Hindu rana (chief) joined by other rajas (kings) and ranas, “who now became an enemy" Gulbadan’s father addressed all the amirs, khans, and sultans [rulers and chieftains]: Do you know that there lies a journey of some months between us and the land of our birth and familiar city [Kabul]? If our side is defeat ed, where are we? Where is our birthplace? Where is our city? We have to do with strangers and foreigners. (99) After a battle was won on the hill of Sikri, where later the important Mughal city of Fatehpur Sikri was built, we hear of the young Gulbadans arrival in 1528 with Maham, her adopted mother, from Kabul to Hindustan. “I, this insignificant one, came in advance of my sisters, and paid my duty to my royal father” (100).
Such journeys from Kabul to the Mughal establishments in cities such as Agra were probably arduous and long and revealed the Mughal conquerors' ambition. Gulbadan’s accounting of these journeys vividly brings to life both the intimate and ceremonial details, rather than the hardships. When Maham was on her way, Babur, her husband, met her near the house in the advance camp. She wished to alight, but he would not wait … [and later, they were joined by an elaborate display]: nine troopers, with two sets of nine horses and the two extra litters which the Emperor had sent, and one litter, which had been brought from Kabul, and about a hundred of my lady’s Mughal servants, mounted on fine horses, all elegance and beauty. (101)
Gulbadan narrates that within the Mughal communities, while the members were involved in familial interactions and intrigues, they were also facilitating the consolidation of their new rule. The rituals and political intrigues that followed Baburs death and the succession of Gulbadan’s half-brother, Humayun, offer an illuminating picture of the consolidation of a new quasi-national entity, the Mughal Empire of Hindustan. When Babur died on December 26,1530, his daughter notes, Black fell the day for children and kinsfolk and all [but] the death was kept concealed. After a while an amir of Hind said, "It is not well to keep the death secret because when such misfortunes befall kings in Hindustan, it is the custom of the bazaar [common] people to rob and steal: God forbid that the Mughals not knowing, they should come and loot the houses and dwelling-places.
It would be best to dress someone in red, and set him on an elephant, and let him proclaim that the emperor Babur has become a dervish and has given his throne to the Emperor Humayun.” This his majesty ordered to be done …On December 29th, 1530, Humayun mounted the throne and everyone said, “May all the world be blessed, under his rule" After that …he was pleased to order: Let each keep the office, and service, and lands, and residences which he had, and let mm serve in the old way.” (110) Humayun, the new emperor, reinforced his official edicts with rules requiring familial and communal ties with “his own people": "After that he [Humayun] came to visit his mothers and sisters and his own people, and he made inquiry after their health and offered sympathy, and spoke with kindness and commiseration” (110).
Gulbadan elaborates on her own familial intimacy with the new emperor but also reminds us that his travels took him to campaigns beyond the new land: “his Majesty used always, so long as was in Hindustan, to come to our house” (111) The narrative somewhat blithely declares that after Baburs death, “His Majesty [Humayun] was in Hind, the people dwelt in repose and obedience and loyalty" (111). This belies the turbulent history of Humayun’s rule, which includes several military campaigns, displacements and exile back to Kabul, struggles with the Afghans, and the rebellious behavior of his brothers Kamran and Hindal that Gulbadan later recounts. The Humayun nama ends on a note of triumphalism and cruelty, symptomatic of the power struggles that had shaped the early years of Mughal rule.
Humayun consolidates his rule, his son Akbar’s birth and circumcision are celebrated, but Gulbadan’s narrative ends abruptly in mid-sentence with Humayun’s order to blind his brother Kamran, the "breacher of the kingdom” (201). She notes, “the Emperor gave an order … ‘Blind Mirza Kamran in both eyes’ The Sayyid [follower] went at once and did so" (201) Although this final moment perhaps signals a dramatic oriental despotism, it also reminds us of European beheadings and torture of rulers and enemies found, for example, in Shakespeare's history plays.
Overall, while Europeans and English are completely absent in Gulbadan’s account of the formation of the Mughal rule, she offers Western historians an entry into intra-cultural Muslim worlds removed from European networks of access and intelligibility. And from the hindsight of history, we also learn of the powerful rulers of India with whom the British travelers, traders, and royal emissaries such as Thomas Roe, would have to contend in the early seventeenth century.”
- Jyotsna G. Singh, “Boundary Crossings in the Islamic World: Princess Gulbadan as Traveler, Biographer, and Witness to History, 1523—1603.” in Early Modern Women
