Latest / Aurangzeb: The Emperor Who Expanded and Broke the Mughal Empire — Fexingo History / Aurangzeb's Coinage: The Emperor Who Minted His Faith
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked a lot about Aurangzeb's wars, his policies, his letters, even his elephants. But today I want to look at something he touched every single day of his reign, something that literally passed through millions of hands — his coins. Luna: Coins? Like, the money itself? Lucas: Exactly. And for Aurangzeb, coins weren't just metal for trade. They were a canvas for his vision of the empire. When he took the throne in 1658, the Mughal currency was still carrying the imagery and titles of his father, Shah Jahan. Aurangzeb changed that almost immediately. One of his first acts was to issue a new gold coin, the mohur, that carried the kalima — the Islamic declaration of faith. Luna: So he put religion on the money, right from the start. Lucas: Right. And it wasn't just a stamp. The full inscription read 'Aurangzeb Alamgir, the Conqueror of the World' — that was his regnal title. But he also had the kalima on there, which was a break from the more neutral royal titles his predecessors used. Some later coins even omitted the emperor's name entirely, focusing only on the kalima and the mint city and the year. That's a huge statement — the ruler subsumes himself into the faith. Luna: Hmm, so the coin is basically propaganda. Lucas: It is. And it's fascinating to see how that propaganda evolved. In the early years, the coins still had some Persian-style elements, including zodiac signs — things like a lion for Leo or a fish for Pisces. These were common on Mughal coins before, likely influenced by Iranian and Hindu astrological traditions. But in 1668, Aurangzeb banned those zodiac motifs outright. He saw them as un-Islamic, a form of divination or idolatry. From then on, coins were strictly calligraphic. Luna: Wow, he even scrubbed the zodiac off the money. Lucas: He did. And he didn't stop there. He also introduced a new silver coin, the rupee, which became the standard across the empire. The design was simple: the kalima on one side, and on the other, his name and title, plus the mint and the year. But he added something else — the title 'sahib i qiran', which means 'Lord of the Auspicious Conjunction', a title that harked back to Timur and the idea of a world-conqueror. So you have this mix of deep piety and imperial ambition, all on a little disc of metal. Luna: And the jizya — did that appear on coins too? Lucas: Good question. The jizya was a tax on non-Muslims, and Aurangzeb reinstated it in 1679. But it wasn't a separate coin. It was collected in the standard currency. However, there were some regional mints that produced tokens or copper pieces that might have been used for small transactions related to the tax, but that's pretty obscure. What we do know is that the jizya itself was a hot topic, and it's mentioned in contemporary accounts along with the coins. Luna: So the coins were a way to enforce the tax, kind of. Lucas: In a sense, yes. But they were also a practical tool. You see, the Mughal economy was heavily monetized. Land revenue was collected in cash, not kind, which meant there had to be a reliable supply of coins. Aurangzeb's mints were bustling — from Kabul in the north to Dhaka in the east, from Ahmedabad in the west to Hyderabad in the south. Each mint stamped its name on the coin, which tells us a lot about the reach of his empire. Lucas: And there's a beautiful detail in the chronicles. The maasir i alamgiri — that's the official court history — mentions that Aurangzeb personally reviewed the dies for new coins. He wanted the calligraphy to be perfect. The Persian script had to be legible, the weight had to be precise. He even ordered that no face or living creature should ever appear on a coin, which was a radical departure from some earlier Mughal issues that had portraits. Luna: He really thought about every detail. Lucas: He did. And it's not just official records. European travelers who visited India during his reign, like the French physician Francois Bernier and the gem merchant Jean-Baptiste Tavernier, wrote about these coins. Bernier described the gold mohurs as 'very pure' and noted that they were used for large transactions, while the silver rupees were the workhorse for everyday trade. Tavernier, who was always looking for profit, complained about the variety of coins — he found it confusing that different mints produced slightly different weights, which created arbitrage opportunities for money changers. Luna: So even back then, currency was a mess. Lucas: Well, it was a managed chaos. Aurangzeb did try to standardize the weight of the rupee — it was about 11.66 grams, and that became the standard for the next century. But with so many mints, there were bound to be regional variations. And that's actually a great window into how the empire worked: the coins are like little data points that show us the economic integration — or sometimes the lack of it — across the subcontinent. Luna: It's like a treasure map for historians. Lucas: Exactly. And there's a remarkable story about a coin that never was. In the 1680s, during the long Deccan wars, Aurangzeb wanted to mint a coin at a new city he founded near the battlefield, which he named Aurangabad. But the area was so unstable that the mint had to be mobile — it moved with the imperial camp. So you have this traveling mint, striking coins in the middle of a war zone. Imagine the logistics: they carried the dies, the bullion, the furnaces, all on carts. And yet, they managed to produce coins that circulated widely. Luna: That's incredible. A mint on the move. Lucas: It shows how determined he was to keep the economy going even while he was campaigning. And it also shows his obsession with control. He wanted his name and his faith to be on every transaction, from a humble vegetable purchase in a village in Bengal to a major trade deal in Surat. That's a kind of power that goes beyond armies and forts. Lucas: You know, it's funny how often we think of coins as just money. But for Aurangzeb, they were a constant reminder of his authority. And in a way, they were also his legacy. Long after his empire fractured, people were still using coins that bore his name and the kalima. I think that would have pleased him — his reign, literally circulating through the hands of ordinary people for generations. Luna: It's a different way to think about a ruler's impact. Lucas: And it's a reminder of how material culture can speak to us across centuries. When we hold a coin, we're holding a piece of his world. That's one of the reasons I love numismatics — it's history you can touch. Luna: Speaking of touching history — a lot of our listeners have been with us since the early episodes. For anyone who's been stepping into these stories with us, we just want to say that this podcast is made possible by listener support. If you've ever thought about helping us keep it ad-free, you can buy us a coffee at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. Lucas: Yeah, that's true. And it does feel a bit like what Aurangzeb was doing with his coins — putting a little piece of our work out there in the world. Every bit of support helps us keep digging into the archives. But back to the coins — one more thing I find striking. Lucas: By the end of his reign, Aurangzeb had issued coins with increasingly long inscriptions. Some have the full kalima, plus 'Alamgir', plus 'sahib i qiran'. There's even a series that mentions his title as 'khalifat ul masihi', which is a weird title — it echoes Christian terms, but it was actually a Persianate title meaning 'Vicegerent of the Messiah' — that was used by some Mughal rulers to align with the idea of universal sovereignty. So you have this incredible blend of Islamic orthodoxy and Persian imperial tradition, all on a coin the size of a thumbnail. Luna: So the coins are like a mini-history of his ideology. Lucas: They really are. And I think that's the takeaway — even the smallest objects can carry the weight of an empire's story. Next time you pick up a coin, just imagine what it would be like if it had your ruler's name and faith stamped on it.