Babur is one of the most romantic and interesting personalities in the history of Asia. A man of indomitable spirit and remarkable military prowess, he was no ruthless conqueror exulting in needless massacres and wanton destruction. An affectionate father, a kind master, a generous friend and a firm believer in God, he was an ardent lover of Nature and truth and “excelled in music and other arts”. He probably inherited from his father the restless spirit of adventure and geniality of temperament that he did not lose even in the most troublesome period of his life, and derived his literary tastes from his maternal grandfather. As LanePoole observes: “He is the link between Central Asia and India, between predatory hordes and imperial government, between Timur and Akbar. The blood of the two great scourges of Asia, Chingiz and Timur, mixed in his veins, and to the daring and restlessness of the nomad Tartar he joined the culture and urbanity of the Persian. He brought the energy of the Mongol, the courage and capacity of the Turk, to the subjection of the listless Hindu; and, himself a soldier of fortune and no architect of empire, he yet laid the first stone of the splendid fabric which his grandson Akbar completed. . . . His permanent place in history rests upon his Indian conquests, which opened the way for an imperial line; but his place in biography and in literature is determined rather by his daring adventures and persevering efforts in his earlier days, and by the delightful Memoirs in which he related them. Soldier of fortune as he was, Babur was not the less a man of fine literary taste and fastidious critical perception. In Persian, the language of culture, the Latin of Central Asia, as it is of India, he was an accomplished poet, and in his native Turki he was master of a pure and unaffected style alike in prose and verse.
Humayun and his Early Wars
Three days after the death of Babur, Humayun ascended the throne of Hindustan at the age of twenty-three. The situation at his accession was not indeed a very easy one. He was confronted with several hostile forces on all sides, disguised and so the more dangerous. There was hardly any unity in the royal family, and his cousins, Muhammad Zaman and Muhammad Sultan, were pretenders to the throne. Moreover, as the law of primogeniture was not strictly enforced among the Musalmans, his three brothers, Kamran, Hindal and ‘Askari, also coveted the throne. As Erskine remarks: “The sword was the grand arbiter of right, and every son was prepared to try his fortune against his brothers.” His court was also full of nobles who engineered plans for the possession of the throne. Further, the army at his disposal was a mixed body, composed of adventurers of diverse nationalities having conflicting interests. Thus, he could not safely count on the support of his relatives, his court, or his army. Again, Babur’s legacy to Humayun was of a precarious nature. The former, as we have already noted, did not leave behind him a consolidated and well – organized Empire. In fact, “he had defeated the armies and broken the power of the reigning dynasty; but the only hold which he, or his race, yet had upon the people of India was military force”. The Rajputs had been only temporarily subdued. Though the Afghans had been defeated, they were far from being permanently crushed. The numerous scattered Afghan nobles, always ripe for revolt, required only a strong and able leader to galvanize them into life, and this they found in Sher Shah. The growing power of Gujarat under Bahadur Shah was also a serious menace to Humayun.
A ruler, possessed of military genius, diplomatic skill, and political wisdom, was the need of the hour. But Humayun lacked all of these. In fact, he himself proved to be his worst enemy. Though endowed with intellectual tastes and love of culture, he was devoid of the wisdom and discretion, as well as strong determination and perseverance, of his father. As Lane-Poole observes, “he was incapable of sustained effort and after a moment of triumph would bury himself in his harem and dream away the precious hours in the opium-eater’s paradise whilst his enemies were thundering at the gate. Naturally kind, he forgave when he should have punished; light-hearted and sociable, he revelled at the table when he ought to have been in the saddle. His character attracts but never dominates. In private life he might have been a delightful companion and a staunch friend. But as a king he was a failure. His name means ‘fortunate’ and never was an unlucky sovereign more miscalled”.