A supremely well-trained collection of Pashtuns, Persians, Arabs and Chaghatai Turks, Babur’s men revered their consummate commander. He was a warrior of legendary strength—it was reported that he could run up slopes carrying a man on each shoulder, and that he had swum across every major river he had encountered, including the Ganges. The Mughal armies terrified their enemies and not without just cause, for vanquished combatants were beheaded and their heads strung up from parapets. Babur considered his son and heir Humayun’s decision to have 100 prisoners of war shot at Panipat, rather than released or enslaved as was the custom, “an excellent omen.”
In contrast, as a ruler, Babur was merciful. The Muslim emperor ruled over an array of peoples with immense tolerance and respect. He never forced their conversion or sought to alter their practices. Preach Islam “by the sword of love and affection,” he told Humayun, “rather than the sword of tyranny and persecution.” His clarity of vision and his humanity allowed him to see that his vast empire could flourish in all its diversity: “Look at the various characteristics of your people just as characteristics of various seasons,” he told his son. An advocate of justice regardless of race or religion, he hated hypocrisy, describing it as “the lies and flattery of rogues and sycophants.”
Babur’s respect for his conquered lands helped to forge an exquisite and unique culture. Babur brought to India his Timurid inheritance: the skills and practices of the jewel-city of Tamurlane’s old capital, Samarkand. The resulting fusion produced centuries of breathtaking art and architecture, such as the monumental Taj Mahal. Himself a skilled author, calligrapher and composer, Babur initiated his dynasty’s patronage of all these arts. He created magnificent formal gardens as a respite from India’s ferocious heat. They were the first of their kind on the subcontinent, stocked with plants and fruits that he brought from his homelands to the northwest. Buried according to his wishes in the garden of Baghe-Babur in his beloved Kabul, the inscription on Babur’s tomb reads: “If there is a paradise on earth, it is this, it is this, it is this!”
Babur’s flaw was his excess. He drank heavily and developed a notable fondness for marijuana. His extravagant generosity emptied his coffers. And when Humayun seemed mortally ill, Babur was said to have offered up his life in return for his son’s. Babur’s last words say much about the ruthlessness of the time and the humanity of the man: “Do nothing against your brothers,” he told Humayun, “even though they may deserve it.”
Babur’s extraordinary story is recounted in his personal journal, the
CORTÉS
1485–1547
Neil Young, “Cortez the Killer”
Hernán Cortés was like Pizarro the personification of the triumphant conquistador whose deeds—both blood-spattered and heroic—brought so much of the New World under the harsh rule of Spain. Arriving in Mexico at the head of a tiny mercenary army, he slaughtered the innocent and pillaged the land, destroying the civilization of the Aztecs and enriching himself beyond his wildest dreams. But the evidence suggests he was not himself cruel and rarely initiated atrocities. He was however a wholly remarkable leader—probably with Pizarro (a distant relative) the outstanding Spaniard of his time, who literally conquered a new empire.
Cortés was born of a noble Castilian family in Medellín, Spain, in 1485. After a sickly childhood, his parents sent him to the prestigious University of Salamanca in the hope that the rarefied intellectual environment might be the making of their son. It was not to be, however, and Cortés soon returned home. Small-town provincial life proved no more satisfactory to young Cortés (except where women were concerned), and in 1502 he decided to move to the New World. Arriving in Hispaniola (modern-day Haiti and the Dominican Republic) in 1503, he soon established himself as a capable man with an eye for an opportunity.