Latest / Aurangzeb: The Emperor Who Expanded and Broke the Mughal Empire — Fexingo History / Aurangzeb's Fatwa-e-Alamgiri: Codifying Hanafi Law in an Empire
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked a lot about Aurangzeb's military campaigns, his religious policies, the wars in the Deccan. But one of his most lasting legacies isn't a battle or a tax—it's a book. The fatawa e alamgiri, or the 'Alamgir's Rulings', a massive compendium of Islamic law. Luna: I've heard of it, but I don't know much. Was it like a Mughal version of the Justinian Code? Lucas: In some ways, yes. It was a systematic compilation of Hanafi jurisprudence, meant to standardize legal practice across the empire. Hundreds of scholars worked on it for years, drawing on earlier authoritative texts like the Hidaya, a 12th-century work by the Central Asian scholar Burhanuddin al-Marghinani. Luna: Hundreds? That's a lot of people trying to agree on one set of rules. Lucas: Right. And they almost didn't. Aurangzeb himself tasked his chief jurist, Shaikh Nizam Burhanpuri—a native of Burhanpur in the Deccan—with overseeing the project. The work began around 1663 and took about a decade. They convened scholars from across the empire, including from Hindustan, the Deccan, even Central Asia. Over two hundred jurists, all Hanafi, because Aurangzeb was a staunch follower of that school. Lucas: And the scope was enormous. It covered everything from prayer and fasting to marriage, divorce, inheritance, criminal law, taxation, warfare, and more. The idea was to create a single, authoritative reference that qadis—judges—could consult so that rulings wouldn't vary wildly from one province to another. Luna: But was it actually binding? Could a qadi just ignore it if they disagreed? Lucas: Technically, no—it wasn't a code of law in the modern sense. It was a compilation of authoritative opinions, a reference work. But because it was sponsored by the emperor and backed by so many leading scholars, it carried immense weight. In practice, judges across the empire deferred to it, and it shaped legal education and practice for centuries. Luna: I imagine that also centralised power. The emperor gets to define what 'correct' Islam is. Lucas: Exactly. And that was part of the point. Aurangzeb was deeply pious, but he was also a savvy ruler. By standardising the law, he was asserting his authority as the defender of the faith, and also making the legal system more predictable. That helped with tax collection, land disputes, and even trade—merchants could rely on consistent rulings. Luna: But I remember from earlier episodes that Aurangzeb also antagonised non-Muslims with policies like the jizya. Does the fatawa e alamgiri reflect that? Lucas: It does. The compendium includes sections on the treatment of dhimmis—non-Muslim subjects—and it generally follows traditional Hanafi views, which are restrictive. For instance, it forbids building new temples in Muslim-dominated areas, though it allows repair of old ones. It also stipulates that dhimmis cannot hold authority over Muslims. So the code provided a legal foundation for the kind of policies Aurangzeb was already pursuing. Lucas: But it's not all about discrimination. The fatawa e alamgiri also has progressive elements for its time. For example, it affirms a woman's right to own property independently, and it sets limits on divorce that protected women's financial interests. Hanafi law was actually more flexible on some issues than other schools. Luna: So it's a mixed bag. Like the emperor himself. Lucas: Exactly. And one more thing: the fatawa e alamgiri was not just a legal code—it was a statement. It said that the Mughal Empire, under Aurangzeb, was the inheritor of the Islamic legal tradition. It excluded Shia and Sufi perspectives entirely, because the Hanafi school was the official one. So it also served as a tool of religious homogenisation. Lucas: The work remained influential long after Aurangzeb's death. It was printed in Calcutta under the British in the 19th century, and it's still cited in some religious courts in South Asia today. For better or worse, the fatawa e alamgiri shaped the legal landscape of the subcontinent for centuries. Luna: You know, speaking of legacies that last, this project is exactly the kind of thing that makes me appreciate what we do here. We go deep into these topics, without any ads interrupting. If you want to support that choice, there's a link: buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. It's a small way to keep these conversations going. Lucas: Absolutely. Every bit helps, and we're grateful. Now, back to the Fatawa—one of the interesting debates among historians is whether the code was actually used as a systematic legal reference or more as a symbol of authority. Evidence from court records suggests that qadis did consult it, but they also relied on local custom and imperial decrees. Luna: So it was more of a guideline than a rigid rulebook. Lucas: Right. And that's typical of pre-modern legal systems. The fatawa e alamgiri was a monumental achievement, but it was also a product of its time—a time when an emperor could commandeer the wisdom of hundreds of scholars and compress it into one text, all to bring order to a sprawling empire. And in doing so, he left a mark that's still visible today.