Archaeology of a Mughal capital

Swapna Liddle's <i>Chandni Chowk: The Mughal City of Old Delhi</i>

CHANDNI CHOWK

The Mughal City of Old Delhi

Swapna Liddle

Speaking Tiger

176 pages; Rs 399

As one crosses the Khooni Darwaza, on one’s way to Daryaganj in an auto or a car, one cannot help but remember the urban legend associated with this monument: It’s said, on rainy nights, the ceiling of the structure leaks — not water — but blood. According to one source, this legend started soon after 1857, when two sons and one grandson of the last Mughal emperor, Bahadur Shah ‘Zafar’ II, were shot dead and their bodies hung at this very spot. (This is the 160th anniversary of the Mutiny.) There is some debate on whether the bodies were hung there at all, but as one crosses the traffic circle and enters Daryaganj, one is acutely aware of having left behind the bureaucratic symmetry of central Delhi and entered something a little chaotic, a little nostalgic.

Historian Swapna Liddle’s book provides a ready reckoner for those interested in that part of the modern metropolis, often referred to – inaccurately – as Old Delhi. In the Introduction, she explains the reason for writing this book: “For many years I have been leading heritage walks through Shahjahanabad, with a view to raising awareness about the need to preserve its rich history and tradition... Events and characters from different eras... are intricately connected to spaces one walks through today. Inevitably, an important question that is posed to a walk leader at the end of the walk is — is there a book where I can read about the history of Shahjahanabad?”

Of course, history junkies can accurately point out Bhagirath Palace, and tell you that this was in fact the 18th century town house of Begum Samru, who headed a trained mercenary army. And, “Old Delhi” is, in fact, incorrect nomenclature because the older medieval cities – Siri Fort, Kotla, Purana Qila – are all actually in New Delhi. But, for the rest, a book such as Ms Liddle’s can serve an essential purpose, as it intends to: “The books seeks to answer the need to give the general reader a reliable history of the city, its people and major events.” 

The book begins with the description of the construction of the city by Shahjahan, the fifth of the great Mughals, during whose reign Mughal architecture reached its peak as evidenced by the Taj Mahal. Delhi was already a bustling town, and decision to move the capital of the sub-continental empire metamorphosed it into a medieval metropolis. Yet, glorious as the architectural achievement was, one is aware quite early that it was a tad lacking in utilitarian aspects. “In a letter to a friend, [French traveller Francois] Bernier, who visited the city in 1660, described the fortifications as being very inadequate....No doubt given the position of the capital at the heart of the empire, it was never imagined that strong defences would be required.” This would prove to a crucial factor in the bloody history of the city, as the empire declined and invaders appeared on the banks of the Yamuna.

Another important point that Ms Liddle stresses on through her book is the cosmopolitan nature of the city and the essential religious harmony that characterised it from the very beginning. For instance, soon after the construction of the city, Shahjahan “invited Dipchand Sah, a well-known Aggarwal Jain merchant of Hisar, to set up his business in Shahjahanabad... a major Jain temple was built in front of the Lahore Gate of the Red Fort (this is today called the Digambar Jain Lal Mandir), and another was built near the Delhi Gate of the city.” That’s how the street of Dariba Kalan was created. Another system that Shahjahan initiated was the darshan he used to grant his subjects from a balcony in the Red Fort. Ms Liddle quotes historian Khafi Khan, who described some Hindu subjects who were “called ‘darshani’ — ‘for until they had seen the person of the King at the window, they put not a morsel of food into their mouths’.” 

There has been, of late, an attempt by some rather vocal sections to depict the Mughals as essentially oppressive rulers and Islamic fundamentalists. Yet, as Ms Liddle points out, medieval secularism was not a choice for the Mughal rulers but also a necessity. A telling evidence of how the Mughals imagined themselves is their iconography. Ms Liddle writes, “The depiction of animals – predator and prey – was in fact a common allegorical theme in Mughal paintings. It symbolised overarching justice and protection of the emperor... all lived together in peace and harmony.” 

Readers are likely to find this to be a panacea for such ignorant and malicious historiography as is evident in the Rajasthan, where members of the state government are insisting on rewriting the history of the battle of Haldighati. For those with curiosity, this book will spark it further and the detailed bibliography at the end would be a help. For others, it surely has the potential to add the spice of history to Changezi chicken or daulat ka chaat.