Days before Maharashtra went topolls on October 15, the 25-year-oldalliance between the BJP and ShivSena came to an end. Even before

the results confirmed victory for the BJP in thestate, it was clear that the break-up was goingto hit the Shiv Sena hard. So bitter was Senachief Uddhav Thackeray that he equated Na-rendra Modi and members of his party to thearmy of 17th-century Bijapuri general AfzalKhan. Now, if you are acquainted with Maha-rashtra, you’d know that Afzal Khan is a villainthe state loves to hate. As the war of words es-calated during campaigning, I embarked on ajourney to Pratapgarh — the site of the legend-ary encounter between Shivaji and Afzal Khan— to revisit a tale that continues to rear its con-tentious head in every election.

In 1659, despite being outnumbered andoutgunned by Afzal Khan’s men, Shivaji led hisarmy to victory over the troops of the BijapurSultanate, in what came to be known as theBattle of Pratapgarh. This triumph marks thebeginnings of the Maratha Empire. Synony-mous with Marathi pride since then, Shivajibecame a household name. Every school childin the state learns of his heroic exploits andMaharashtrian bakhars (traditional histories)treat Shivaji as a quasi-divine figure, often in-

spired directly by the Goddess Bhavani. Eachtown in Maharashtra will have an equestrianShivaji statue in its main square, and in thecapital city of Mumbai, its airport, its largesttrain station, largest park and principal mu-seum, are all named after the Chhatrapati .

Given the popularity of Shiv-aji, it is not surprising that hishistory is often pressed into ser-vice whenever it is convenientfor politicians. So, way back inthe ’50s, Jawaharlal Nehru hadto actually apologise for makingsome allegedly disparaging re-marks about Shivaji in his TheDiscovery of Indiaand when polit-ical cartoonist Bal Thackeraywanted a name for his new chau-vinist party, he simply called it‘Shivaji’s army’. This tradition lives on till to-day and more than three centuries after hisdeath, Shivaji is an active part of Maharash-trian politics.

The battle siteThe town closest to Pratapgarh fort today isMahabaleshwar. Situated on a plateau, the co-lonial-era hill-station has various ‘points’ thatoverlook the valley below. At Bombay Point,

once I had zoned out the boisterous families, abeautiful sight greeted me: the lush monsoongreen valley stretched out for miles below,dotted with the canary-yellow sonki flowers. Ifyou were at this place on November 8, 1659however, a more sinister sight would have pre-

sented itself. In the Radtondipass below, you would havewatched the massive Bijapuri ar-my rumble by, headed to Pratap-garh fort where Shivaji was.

For a long time, the BijapurSultanate — Deccan’s most pow-erful state — had ignored Shivaji,even as his men captured one Bi-japuri fort after another in the Sa-hyadri hills. With Bijapur miredin internal strife and conflictwith a belligerent Aurangzeb,

Shivaji had a free run. Finally, in 1659, the sul-tanate dispatched one o�ts top generals, AfzalKhan, to confront Shivaji.

En route to Pratapgarh, Khan’s army adopt-ed an unexpected policy o�ntimidation, de-stroying several Hindu temples in their path,including the famous Vithoba temple in Pand-harpur. Historian Stewart Gordon writes that“this behaviour was unprecedented for a Bija-puri force,” given the kingdom’s past syncre-

History retoldAfzal Khan is a villain Maharashtra loves to hate, but history tells a more complex story

Given the popularityof Shivaji, it is notsurprising that his

history is oftenpressed into service

A point of viewOn November 8, 1659,the mighty Bijapuriarmy headed toPratapgarh Fort,where Shivaji and hismen were hiding shashi ashiwal

SOURCE: http://www.thehindubusinessline.com/features/blink/know/history-retold/article6530010.ece

25-10-2014, PAGE 2.

tism. Not only was this seen as anunconscionable act, but it was highly impru-dent as it alienated most of Bijapur’s civil andmilitary bureaucracy — the Marathi Brahminsand Marathas. Even as a strategy to force Shiv-aji’s hand, it failed. He knew his forces wouldbe no match for Bijapur’s well-equipped armyon the plains and, wisely, retreated to the near-impenetrable hill fort of Pratapgarh.

However, time was running out for both ar-mies. Forced to wait at the foothills of the Sa-hyadri in the district of Wai, Khan’s massivearmy needed to be fed. Lodged inside the fort,Shivaji’s men too were grappling with limitedfood supplies. So, Khan sent his envoy Krishna-ji Bhaskar to promise Shivaji that if he surren-dered, he would be treated with respect andrewarded. The future Chhatrapati agreed tomeet Afzal Khan, but on his terms — at the baseof the fort, deep in the ghats. In this terrain, Bi-japur’s heavy artillery would be useless andShivaji’s men, who knew the Jawali forestsaround Pratapgarh intimately, would have atactical advantage.

The encounterGreatly underestimating Shivaji, Khan accept-ed the offer. He moved his army to the villageof Par, a few miles short of the fort. Par is todaya small hamlet of about 30 shingle-roofedshacks and one tiny convenience store. When Iarrived at noon, the shop attendant was quiet-ly dozing. Interrupting his afternoon siesta, Iask him about Afzal Khan. “There is an old ma-zaar from that period. Talk to the caretaker,Ramzaan,” he says. In gratitude, I bought a bagof chips.

Ramzaan is 70. His wife and he are the onlytwo Muslims left in the village. The mazaar, heinforms me, is the tomb of Amir Shah Bijapuri,Afzal Khan’s maternal uncle. Shah had diedthe day the Bijapuri army had moved in to Par.While nothing remains of the original tomb,which had collapsed 50 years ago, a new, mod-ern structure has taken its place, surrounded

by the graves of soldiers who had fallen in theBattle of Pratapgarh. Ramzaan, I discover, is arepository of the region’s history, rattlingaway names of the sultans of Bijapur, AfzalKhan’s entourage and dates of battles withease. As it turns out, he also claims to be the de-scendant of one of Amir Shah’s aides. “I am the15th generation in the family to act as caretak-er of the tomb,” he says, a note of pride creep-ing into his voice. 

Back in 1659, on November 10, Khan andShivaji met in private, unarmed, at the base ofthe fort to discuss the terms of the Maratha’ssurrender. What followed next is a Rashomon-like tale that depends greatly on the source. Inthe Marathi bakhars, the tale goes that Khanresorted to treachery, attacking Shivaji with akataar (dagger) hidden on his person. Parry-ing his blow, Shivaji hit back, disembowellingKhan with a concealed weapon of his own — aset of tiger claws. In the Persian accounts ofthe Mughals and Bijapuris however, histori-

ans such as Khafi Khan claim Shivaji was thefirst to attack. No matter the means, the endresult was that Shivaji ended up killing AfzalKhan. Immediately after, Shivaji’s forces at-tacked the unsuspecting Bijapur army in Par.In the ensuing Battle of Pratapgarh, victorycame swiftly for Shivaji — one of many instanc-es when his intelligence combined with his re-markable personal bravery resulted in animprobable win.

Khan was buried at the base of the fort and,chivalrously, Shivaji even had a tomb con-structed for his fallen opponent. Time passed,and the tomb became a local shrine for the ar-ea’s Muslims.

In the name of KhanIn 2004, all this came to a grinding halt when,right before the general elections, the VishwaHindu Parishad made an issue of the tomb’sexistence. They threatened to demolish thestructure. The place was rife with tension and“for months, no tourists came to Pratapgarh,”says Tanaji, my guide. Bowing to pressurefrom political parties, the police closed downthe tomb for visitors and it remains shut tothis day. Even now, a garrison of nearly 30 po-licemen stand guard outside Khan’s tomb. I-ronically, 10 years after the VHP’s call for the

demolition of Afzal Khan’stomb, it is the sister outfit — theBJP — that is being compared tothe Bijapuri general. Both inci-dents indicate how history hasbeen twisted to conform tomodern politics. Once distort-ed as a Hindu versus Muslimbattle, the Battle of Pratapgarhnow is being presented as aMaharashtrian vs non-Maha-rashtrian one. Both the armies,Bijapur’s and Shivaji’s, weremade up of a mixture of faiths,as was the norm in the Deccan

at the time. Shivaji’s closest confidant was aMuslim called Nur Khan Beg; his line of de-fence began with Sidi Ibrahim; Afzal Khan’smost trusted aide, Krishnaji Bhaskar, was a Ma-rathi Brahmin. And both opposing armiesconsisted primarily of Marathi-speaking Ma-rathas. Religious or linguistic identity was notequated with political loyalty as is often imag-ined these days.

Our politicians may not care much for his-tory but this is one comparison that UddhavThackeray might regret making. Afzal Khan’sarmy came to Maharashtra only to be soundlydefeated — the BJP, on the other hand, hasswept the state.

shoaib daniyal is based in Mumbai and writes onpolitics, history and linguistics

The monumentsmen (above) In 2004,the VHP called for thedestruction of AfzalKhan’s tomb. Shutdown since then, eventoday, a garrison of 30policemen standsguard pti; (right) Shivajiis synonymous withMarathi pride,equestrian statueshave sprouted acrossMaharashtra

QTen years after the

VHP’s call for thedemolition of Afzal

Khan’s tomb, its sisteroutfit, the BJP, is being

compared to theBijapuri general

R