Let Music Prevail

Illustration by Gemini AI

Ensconced majestically on his throne, Babur was checking the tautness of his bowstring when Ahmad Khan and his team were led in by the soldiers. A few arrows kept by the side of the emperor, sharpened recently, didn’t fail to catch Khan’s notice.

Ahmad Khan was a leader of the Yusufzai tribe in the Pashtoon land. When he was summoned by Babur, who was already known for his conquest of much of Central Asia, Khan naturally smelled danger. He was wise enough to realise that he and his men could never resist the belligerent Mughal. So he adopted music diplomacy. He brought the best musicians and singers of his tribe with him.

He was not surprised when he, along with his music troupe, was chained and led to a dungeon in Babur’s fort in Kabul. It was the Bala Hissar fort that Babur had captured. From this fort, he governed Kabul, launched expeditions, received envoys, and consolidated power. Ahmad Khan and his troupe spent the night in the dungeon and was summoned to the Emperor’s presence in the morning.

Ahmad Khan was perceived as a potential threat by Babur. He was a tribal chief. Anyone with some political power and a considerable number of loyalists is a potential threat to rulers who consider themselves as entitled to absolute power. Thus Ahmad Khan became Babur’s enemy. Perceived enemy.

There have been more perceived enemies than real ones at any time in human history. Are all men who hanker after political power essentially cowards who perceive enmity all around?

Ahmad Khan and his troupe sang the most soothing of their tribal songs as they approached Babur’s throne.

Babur had a dream for his kingdom: the whole kingdom should be a garden, with plenty of running water, fruit trees, cool climate, and an abundance of fragrant and colourful flowers.

Ahmad Khan’s troupe was singing of a garden with a sweet stream, fruit trees, cool air, and an abundance of fragrant and colourful flowers.

Babur put down his bow. “Unchain them. Bring the musical instruments. Let them play on the strings of the sitar and the harp. Give them shehnais and bansuris.”

Babur’s fort was soon redolent of joy and festivity. There was celebration where bloodshed was planned.

The above episode is mentioned in the Baburnama. Unlike many imperial memoirs, the Baburnama records such moments with genuine appreciation. Babur was not merely a warrior; he was a poet who wrote ghazals, admired Persian and Turkic verse, and believed that culture mattered even amid political chaos. Unfortunately, the good side of that man – like many others – is being obfuscated if not buried altogether by the present powermongers of India.

For Babur, empire was not just territory and armies. It was also civilisation: music, language, memory, and refinement.

I wish our present leaders learnt some of those good lessons from their perceived enemies.