Latest / Aurangzeb: The Emperor Who Expanded and Broke the Mughal Empire — Fexingo History / Aurangzeb's Elephant Corps War Beasts of the Mughal Empire
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked a lot about Aurangzeb's wars — the sieges, the guerilla tactics, the famine. But there's one weapon he relied on that we haven't really touched: the war elephant. Luna: War elephants — I always think of them as these living tanks. Lucas: Exactly. And Aurangzeb used them on a massive scale. At the siege of Golconda in 1687, he brought something like four thousand elephants with his army. Not just for battle — for hauling siege guns, carrying supplies, even as mobile command platforms. Lucas: The Mughals had a whole department dedicated to elephants, called the Filkhana. They kept detailed records — how many elephants, where they were acquired, even their personalities and temperaments. Some elephants were famous individuals, just like generals. Luna: Individuals? Like named elephants? Lucas: Oh yes. The most famous during Aurangzeb's reign was an elephant named Mastan. He was said to be absolutely fearless in battle — would charge straight into enemy lines, trampling soldiers, smashing through barricades. Aurangzeb personally awarded him a silver howdah — that's the carriage on top — and special ceremonial trappings. Lucas: Mastan was a gift from one of his Deccan allies, actually. And he served for decades. When he died, Aurangzeb reportedly mourned him — which is unusual, because Aurangzeb wasn't exactly sentimental. Luna: So these elephants were more than just tools — they were symbols of imperial power. Lucas: Absolutely. A Mughal emperor's status was partly measured by his elephant stable. Shah Jahan, Aurangzeb's father, had over a thousand elephants just for ceremonial purposes. But Aurangzeb, being the pragmatist, put them to work in war. Lucas: The training was brutal. Young elephants were captured from the forests of Bengal, Assam, and the Deccan. They'd be starved, beaten, and then slowly acclimated to the chaos of battle — the sound of drums, the smell of blood, the sight of men charging. It's a dark side of military history, but it's the reality. Luna: How effective were they really? I mean, against disciplined infantry or cannon fire, wouldn't they just be big targets? Lucas: That's the thing — by Aurangzeb's time, their effectiveness was actually in decline. The Marathas, for example, rarely used elephants. They relied on light cavalry that could outmaneuver the Mughal behemoths. And the Mughals themselves started using more artillery, which could panic elephants. Lucas: But in siege warfare, they were still invaluable. At Golconda, elephants were used to batter down gates — they'd be armored with chainmail and driven repeatedly against the wooden doors. And they could carry heavy siege equipment up steep terrain that carts couldn't manage. Lucas: There's a famous incident at the siege of Golconda where a wounded elephant named Gajmukta went berserk and trampled a dozen of his own mahouts — that's the driver — before being put down. It shows how risky they were. Luna: And they were expensive to maintain too, I imagine. Lucas: Enormously. An elephant eats about three hundred pounds of fodder a day. On campaign, the Mughal army had to move entire forests of grass and leaves ahead of the elephants. The logistics were staggering — and it's one reason the Maratha guerrilla tactics, which didn't require that kind of supply train, eventually wore the Mughals down. Lucas: But before we get too deep into the military analysis — you know, it's shows like this that rely on listeners who appreciate these deep dives. And we keep it ad-free, which means we depend on small donations to keep going. If you've enjoyed these episodes, particularly the South Asian history ones, a couple of dollars a month on buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo genuinely makes a difference. Luna: Yeah, it's a nice way to support the work without any big commitment. Lucas: Exactly. Anyway — back to the elephants. One of the most interesting aspects is how the Mughals deployed them in battle formation. They'd place a line of elephants in the vanguard, with archers and musketeers on top. The idea was to break the enemy's formation before the cavalry charged. Luna: So it was psychological as much as tactical. Lucas: Huge psychological factor. The sight of a massive elephant bearing down on you, trumpeting, with soldiers firing from the howdah — it could break even veteran troops. But it only worked if the elephants were well-trained and the enemy wasn't prepared. Lucas: The Mughals also used elephants for executions. Criminals, especially traitors, would be trampled to death by elephants. It was a public spectacle designed to instill fear. Aurangzeb used this method for some of his enemies during the Deccan campaigns. Luna: That's grim, but it shows how elephants were woven into every aspect of Mughal power. Lucas: Right. And after Aurangzeb's death, the elephant corps declined. The later Mughals couldn't afford to maintain them, and the British, when they took over, phased out war elephants entirely by the 19th century. It was the end of an era. Lucas: There's a poignant note in the maasir i alamgiri — the official history of Aurangzeb's reign — that after his death, many of his favorite elephants were sold off or given away. Mastan had died years earlier, but the glory days were over. Luna: So in a way, the elephants mirrored the empire itself — massive, powerful, but ultimately unsustainable. Lucas: That's a beautiful way to put it. And it's a reminder that behind every great empire, there's not just human labor, but animal labor too — often at great cost. The Mughal elephant corps is a fascinating lens through which to see the empire's rise and fall.