Latest / Aurangzeb: The Emperor Who Expanded and Broke the Mughal Empire — Fexingo History / Aurangzeb's Kashmir Summer Retreats
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked a lot about Aurangzeb in the Deccan — the wars, the famines, the grim end in a commoner's hut at Bidar. But there's another side to this emperor that rarely gets attention: his relationship with Kashmir. Luna: Kashmir? I thought he spent almost his entire reign in the Deccan. Lucas: He did — he left the north in 1681 and never returned. But before that, he visited Kashmir several times as a prince and as emperor. And even from the Deccan, he maintained a keen interest in the valley. He commissioned gardens, patronized the shawl industry, and even wrote about Kashmir as a glimpse of paradise. Luna: Paradise — that's a strong word for a man who banned music and wine. Lucas: Exactly. That's the paradox. On one hand, he enforced a strict Islamic code — the fatawa e alamgiri, the bans on music and wine. On the other, he poured resources into creating earthly paradises in Kashmir. The Shalimar Bagh in Srinagar, for instance — he expanded it and added a black marble pavilion. And the Nishat Bagh, though built by his brother Dara Shikoh, was maintained under Aurangzeb. Luna: So he wasn't opposed to beauty — just certain expressions of it. Lucas: Right. The Mughal garden tradition, especially the char bagh — the four-part garden divided by water channels — was deeply symbolic. It represented the four rivers of paradise described in the Quran. For Aurangzeb, building these gardens wasn't vanity; it was a religious act, a foretaste of Jannah. He even wrote letters from the Deccan ordering specific flowers and trees for the Shalimar Bagh. Luna: What kind of flowers? Lucas: Tulips, roses, narcissus — the classic Mughal favorites. But also fruit trees: cherry, apricot, almond. He wanted the garden to be productive, not just ornamental. And he was deeply involved in the Kashmir saffron trade. Saffron from the fields of Pampore, near Srinagar, was a major Mughal revenue source, and Aurangzeb regulated its cultivation and export carefully. Luna: Saffron — that's the most expensive spice in the world, even today. Lucas: Exactly. And under Aurangzeb, Kashmir's saffron was prized from Isfahan to London. But his real passion was Kashmiri shawls. The famous pashmina and shahtoosh shawls — incredibly soft, lightweight — became a Mughal court staple. Aurangzeb wore them, gave them as diplomatic gifts, and even set up state workshops in Srinagar. Luna: So the emperor who lived so austerely in the Deccan — sleeping on the ground, wearing simple clothes — indulged in luxury shawls? Lucas: It seems contradictory, but there's a nuance. He didn't ban luxury for himself entirely — he banned what he saw as un-Islamic. Shawls weren't prohibited; music and wine were. He also made sure the shawl industry was ethically run, at least by his standards. He appointed a superintendent to oversee the weavers and prevent exploitation. But the reality was messy — the shawl trade enriched the nobility while the weavers often lived in poverty. Luna: So it's the same tension we've seen in other episodes — the gap between his ideals and the actual outcomes. Lucas: Yes. And Kashmir itself was a site of that tension. The valley was home to a large Hindu population, including the Kashmiri Pandits, who served in Mughal administration. Aurangzeb didn't persecute them in Kashmir the way he did in other regions. In fact, he appointed several Pandits to high positions, like the scholar Pandit Shivram. But he also imposed the jizya tax on non-Muslims there, as elsewhere. Luna: So it's complicated. He could appreciate the beauty of Kashmir and its people, but he still enforced his religious policies. Lucas: Exactly. And that's what makes him such a fascinating figure. He wasn't a one-dimensional tyrant or a saint. He was a man who genuinely believed he was doing God's work, even as he built pleasure gardens and traded in luxury shawls. He even wrote a letter from the Deccan, longing for Kashmir: 'The cool breezes of Kashmir are a balm to the soul.' He signed it 'Zinda Pir' — the living saint, as he called himself. Luna: And yet he never saw it again after 1681. Lucas: He chose the Deccan over Kashmir. He believed his duty was to expand the empire and enforce Islamic law, even if it meant dying in a dusty tent in Bidar. But he kept Kashmir in his heart. The gardens he built there still stand — the Shalimar Bagh, the Nishat Bagh — they're tourist attractions today, but they were his vision of paradise. Luna: It's almost like he was trying to build heaven on earth, even while he was making earth more like a battlefield. Lucas: That's a perfect way to put it. And honestly, if this conversation about the paradoxes of Aurangzeb's Kashmir was worth a coffee to you, that's what keeps us ad-free — buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. Luna: Yeah, we don't have sponsors or ads, so listener support really makes a difference. Lucas: So back to the gardens — one of the most interesting features of the Shalimar Bagh is the black marble pavilion called the diwan e aam, the hall of public audience. Aurangzeb would sit there, overlooking the Dal Lake, hearing petitions. It's a far cry from the military camps of the Deccan. Luna: Did he ever hold court there? Lucas: He did, during his visits in the 1660s. He would travel from Delhi to Srinagar with a huge entourage, taking the Mughal road through Pir Panjal. The journey took about a month. Once there, he'd spend the summer in the Shalimar Bagh, conducting business, receiving ambassadors, and yes, enjoying the cool climate. He even composed poetry there — though only a few lines survive. Luna: He wrote poetry? I thought he was too busy with war and piety. Lucas: He did write some Persian verses, mostly moralistic or devotional. One couplet attributed to him goes: 'What is this world but a garden of thorns? / The wise man seeks the garden of the spirit.' But he wasn't a great poet — he was more of a patron. He supported poets and scholars in Kashmir, including the historian Muhammad Kazim, who wrote the Alamgirnama. Luna: So he was a patron of the arts, but on his own terms. Lucas: Exactly. He supported calligraphy, architecture, and history writing, but not music, dance, or painting. The famous Mughal miniature painting declined under him. But Kashmir's natural beauty inspired a different kind of art: garden design. The char bagh layout, with its water channels and terraced levels, reached its peak in Kashmir under Aurangzeb. Luna: And what about the people of Kashmir? How did they see him? Lucas: That's a complex question. The Kashmiri historian Muhammad Azam wrote in the 18th century that Aurangzeb's reign was a time of relative peace for the valley — no invasions, stable administration. But the jizya tax was resented. And there were famines, though not as severe as the Deccan. The shawl weavers, as I mentioned, were often exploited. So it's mixed. He wasn't loved, but he wasn't hated as much as in other regions. Luna: It sounds like Kashmir was his escape — a place where he could be a builder instead of a destroyer. Lucas: That's a lovely way to think about it. And it's true. In the Deccan, he was constantly at war, constantly pushing his army to the brink. In Kashmir, he could be the patron, the aesthete, the gardener. But he couldn't stay. The empire demanded his presence elsewhere. And so he left paradise behind, never to return. Luna: Do you think he regretted it? Lucas: We don't know for sure. But in his letters, there's a wistfulness. In one letter, he writes: 'The gardens of Kashmir are a reminder that this world, too, can be beautiful — but only for a moment.' He knew he was trading beauty for duty. And he made that choice, again and again.