The Taj and the Elephant

Strange, you will mutter, reading the title. Well, I had been wondering about elephants in Istanbul after I had finished the research on the embassy of Tipu Sultan to the Rum in 1787. In that large effort, four elephants were sent along as gifts to the Ottoman Sultan, accompanied by a wasteful 700-person retinue. Continuing on with that story, I chanced on the marvelous book (The Architect's Apprentice) written by Elif Shafak, a fictional tale about an albino Indian elephant named Chota in the Ottoman stables and the story of its young Indian mahout Jahan. That book takes you from India to Istanbul and back finally to the Taj Mahal and well, this touches on two of the aspects around whom Shafak, whom I admire greatly, wove her delightful caper. More as we go along, but if you have not, please do pick up the book and give it a read, you will not regret it. Following all that, I visited the elephant stables at Guruvayur with our little granddaughter a couple of months ago and regaled her with the sight of many elephants being tended to. That was indeed a marvelous sight, that too, seeing them up and close.

Shafak mentions that it was a palace painting showing an elephant behind the Ottoman Sultan, which set her mind to the tale. Commencing with Chota’s arrival in Istanbul sometime in the second half of the 16th century, the evocative novel takes you through medieval Istanbul, educating you on the palace intrigues, the scheming of the eunuchs, and Jahan’s collaboration with one of the world’s greatest architects – Mimar Sinan. For me, it struck many chords, simply because I had spent over 5 years in that magnificent city and could follow Shafak through the streets and buildings of erstwhile Constantinople, feel the smells and sounds she wrote about, just like I was right there. I still think often about Istanbul, and in our home, I have two large panoramas of the city, which I look at every time I pass them. Readers, please take note, that this is not a book review, but some aspects of connected history.

In the medieval period, when ships became the camels of the ocean, large objects could thence be moved from place to place. As traders and colonizers came across the elephant in India, an animal that had been a source of amazement since Alexander’s battles with Porus, the desire to take one back to the West became paramount. The indenter of the elephant, usually a king or a sovereign, could now boast of something unique and boast of not only his long reach across the universe but also the extent of his power and wealth with this new ‘larger than life’ acquisition. Many elephants were thus moved across the oceans, and the Indian elephant was perfectly suited for it, as it was the most docile of the lot. Tragically many of them died in transit or soon after they arrived, mainly due to the lack of good attention, bad weather, and wrong diet, as we saw in the case of Suleiman and Hanno. In the initial dispatches, mahouts were also sent with the elephants, but I guess many of them suffered from the same amount of homesickness and perished quickly in foreign lands.

As we read over many articles, the monsoon trade connected India’s south, especially Calicut and Cochin with many Red Sea ports. Egypt became an epicenter for imports, with the establishment of the Mamluk sultanate. Later, when the Ottomans conquered it in 1517, the reins of the Indian spice trade moved to Turkish masters. The Egyptian government was now headed by bureaucratic officials sent from Constantinople and supported by Ottoman troops, though the Mamluks continued to rule as the powerful emirs under them.

Trade with Malabar did not suffer and continued, with the marked regularity of the monsoons. Goods arrived at Egypt after being initially unloaded at Red Sea ports and branched either towards the spice bazaars of Istanbul or Westwards to Venetian ports for disbursement into Europe. To get to the finer details, one may peruse this study of mine covering the final years of the Mamluk era. (See link). There were powerful forces vying to wrest this trade away from the Arabs and so, Western interlopers from Spain and Portugal, as also from Easterly China, were viewing the scene with keen eyes. Spices, textiles, and gems traveled westwards, while horses moved East to buyers in the Sultanates of Deccan as well as the Mughals. Space in the small dhows which traversed these oceans was always at a premium and therefore only prized animals found occasional charter. Transporting elephants was particularly difficult as they needed huge amounts of food and water to be carried along during the voyage, and this took away cargo and crew space. They could as you can now understand, only be afforded by very rich buyers, typically sovereigns.

The first notices of Elephants in Turkey, date way back to the 6th century at Cappadocia and at Constantinople (Pre Ottoman-Istanbul) as well as the menageries at Fustat in Cairo during the 9th century. Byzantine Emperor Constantine IX paraded an elephant during the 11th. These reached their new destinations via Egyptian emirs, as gifts. There were several elephant stables in Byzantine Constantinople, from which the animals were brought to the Ottoman court, on special occasions. Several of these stables were converted into mosques after the Muslims finally captured the city in 1453.

After the 1517 sack of Egypt, the Ottoman capital of Constantinople got itself directly linked to the Indian Ocean trade. Tigers, monkeys, rhinos, birds, and of course elephants were in demand, especially for the menageries in Constantinople. These menageries were located near the great Topkapi palace and curiously, within an ancient church, the St Johns Church near the Hippodrome. Pierre Belon du Mans a visitor, mentions that larger animals were located within the palace grounds. It seems reasonable to assume that a mahout (elephant handler) accompanied elephants on their journey from the subcontinent and then remained in Istanbul for at least some time to care for the creatures. There is, moreover, some evidence suggesting that elephant handlers were in demand in Istanbul since Ottoman authorities occasionally sought them out and paid for their travel to and maintenance in the city. The gifting of elephants continued as a diplomatic practice in South Asia and as a sign of power and prestige. Mentions continue through the 16th century of elephants heralding battles and gracing palaces. 16th century Istanbul exhibited two skilled elephants, the sight of which was recorded by European envoys. By the 18th century, there was always at least one elephant in the royal stables and large budgets were allocated for its upkeep as well as its mahout. By all accounts, being a mahout accorded meant a comfortable life, and by 1742, there were as many as fourteen men tending to a single elephant.

But we now zoom to one of the two elephants possessed by Sultan Suleyman. He used them for his 1521 campaign, and we can also see mentions where these elephants accompanied his army in the 1526 campaigns. Kemalpasazade mentions them walking like graceful clouds before the Sultan as he marched out of the city on 23 April 1526, and so do Bragaddin and Luigi Bassano.

Melchior Lorck was one such artist who did many sketches of Istanbul. N Westbrook writing about Lorck’s panorama explains - The artist Lorcks, who departed the city in 1559, traveled widely, and spent his time in Istanbul making many drawings that recorded Ottoman costumes, customs, and monuments—an elephant and its driver, a funeral procession, women of a harem, and others depicting building structures. It is not known whether he was commissioned by the sultan to make his portrait, but there are several engravings of the Sultan based, presumably, on drawings he made in Istanbul, and which Melchior Lorck included in his book of views of the city. Lorck did in his portraits of Suleiman, while his panorama of the city of Constantinople, was more than 11 meters long. He is also recorded as having painted twelve portraits of the Sultan, though they were later destroyed in a fire.

Marina Warner reviewing a Lorch book (A view of a view) states - Lorck had a brief audience with the sultan, which he re-created afterward in two different prints, both extraordinarily impressive, revealing his underused capacity for psychological insight: a head and shoulders portrait, and a full-length figure positioned in front of the Suleimaniye mosque, completed in 1557 (Lorck was in Istanbul for its opening). In the full-length portrait, Suleiman is standing with his right hand extended in a gesture that admonishes all those who are present to remain alert; everything about him is grave, and imposing; he appears to be 12 feet tall, erect and majestic, with a curved sword reaching down to the floor, his frame flowing with gleaming silk, dwarfing an elephant which is entering the palace through the archway behind him. The painted version, which Lorck sent to the emperor Maximilian II, seems to have vanished.

The engraving of Suleyman II, (the Sultan shown standing, with an elephant with the Süleymaniye mosque in the background, a print of 1574, thought to be based upon a drawing of 1559), was again altered in 1688 to represent Ibrahim I. This above painting, which you can see above is the one that Shafak Elif observed. She explains - Inside the book - Gülru NecipoÄŸlu’s - The Age of Sinan: Architectural Culture in the Ottoman Empire, one particular drawing caught my eye: it was a painting of Sultan Suleiman, tall and sleek in his kaftan. But it was the figures in the background that intrigued me. There was an elephant and a mahout in front of the Suleimaniye Mosque; they were hovering on the edge of the picture, as if ready to run away, unsure as to what they were doing in the same frame as the Sultan and the monument dedicated to him. I could not take my eyes off this image. The story had found me.

So much for the elephant, and though I could gather nothing about its antecedents, I would assume that like many who preceded them and many after, they too had been captured near Nelliyampathy or the Anamalai forests near Palghat, and shipped through a port in Malabar, usually Calicut or Ponnani.

Now we come to the second part which deals with the fictional involvement of Jehan and his dome-building skills being put to test in building the greatest edifice at Agra, the Taj Mahal. But let us see what that story is about. I won’t spill the beans on what Jehan did in the fictional account, but he arrived at Agra in 1632. The draftsman in charge of construction Mir Abdul Karim takes him in, after seeing the seal of Mimar Sinan the great, with Jahan (Mimar Sinan- The son of Greek or Armenian Christian parents, Sinan entered his father’s trade as a stone mason and carpenter and rose to become the most celebrated of all Ottoman architects, whose ideas, perfected in the construction of mosques and other buildings, served as the basic themes for virtually all later Turkish religious and civic architecture) takes him in. Jahan Khan Rumi is then appointed by Shajahan to contribute to the building of the Taj Mahal. Jahan invites his favorite student Isa and they set about designing the magnificent edifice and what the Turkish craftsmen were in those days famous for, building the dome. If only, the story is as pat as Shafak puts it, though the Taj part of the book is hurried through with an aging Jehan, becoming a family man.

In reality, the architecture of the Taj Mahal is still a hotly contested topic. For such a prominent monument, there are no clear records of its architect, and the general conjuncture is that it was the effort of a huge team (1,000 - 20,000) that worked for 10-22 years from 1632 AD, on land/structure purchased from Raja Jai Singh, with even the emperor Shahjahan contributing to its design.

Arguments fly, not without sparks, from some who say that it was a temple complex retrofitted into a mausoleum, with others contesting it stating that the Taj looks like no other temple, while some experts chime in saying it cannot be a retrofit (old structure re-laid with marble, with a single door and decorative minarets around) as there are no clear clues of an earlier construction in the design or in its structure. Then there are comments that the dome is based on the Lotus canopy (bulbous dome) - an old temple concept, and that this dome is unlike any Turkish mosque dome (true, it does look more like most Samarkand domes), especially Mimar Sinan’s Blue Mosque.

P. N. Oak in his book "The Taj Mahal is a Temple Palace” opines that it was originally a temple in the 12th century AD, which fell to Rajput kings during the period of Humayun and was later used as a palace by Raja Man Singh of Jaipur. This according to him, was then commandeered by Shahjahan from Raja Jai Singh of Jaipur and converted into a mausoleum. Proponents of this thinking add further that it does not accurately align (off by 15 degrees) to Mecca, as most Muslim monuments do. Then there is the Aurangzeb letter of 1652 which records that the master architects had no solution to dome leaks, suggesting they were washing their hands off something they had nothing to do with, in the first place. Yet others state that Samarkand domes were in the first place, actually built in the lotus style by Buddhist architects taken as prisoners by Timur, the lame. Nevertheless, neither side present clinching arguments or evidence.

After some pottering about, trying to get to the bottom of this, I realized that I would find no clear answer and that the surviving legends had taken deep root. Strange also is the fact that the Mughal court had so many European emissaries and none recorded details of this massive construction effort – barring a few sparse mentions by Peter Mundy the EIC man in town, Tavernier, the French gem trader, F Bernier, and also Thevenot, thereby raising questions as to whether it was a 1,000-person effort spanning 10 years or a 20,000-person effort spanning all of 20 years. The deeper one went, the more the questions he ended up with, suggesting that the real truth may be somewhere in the grey zone.

Two names however stand out to support the traditional argument that it was built from scratch on Hari Singh’s land – Ustad Isa (Discounting names such as the Italian Geronimo Veroneo, the Frenchman Bordeaux, and Persian Ali Mardan) and Ustad Ahmad Lahori. There are even mentions of Shahjahan having drawn up the design, but then again, in those days like in the case of some musical compositions, the credit for a building's design also went usually to its patron, rather than its architects.


There are draftsmen, masons, goldsmiths, and so on named in palace accounts, and Prof Nath in his books, provides details. For example, there are - Mukrimat Khan and Mir Abdul Karim from Shiraz, chief supervisors and administrators, Ismail Effendi (Ismail Khan Rumi) who had worked for the great Ottomans in Turkey as a designer and builder of the dome, Mohammed Hanif, Chief mason as well as other master masons from Iran, Central Asia and India. The list goes on, naming many artisans and craftsmen, but nobody as a chief designer. The world heritage monument register # 252, Oct 15, 1982 states - The monument, begun in 1632, was finished in 1648; unverified but nonetheless, tenacious, legends attribute its construction to an international team of several thousands of masons, marble-workers, mosaicists, and decorators working under the orders of the architect of the emperor, Ustad Ahmed Lahori.

There were mentions, from no lesser an authority than James Fergusson (supported by Dr Burgess) that Ali Mardan, the Persian refugee was the designer of the Taj Mahal, perhaps based on the similarity between the Shalimar Gardens and the Taj’s Garden. This never found any acceptance among Taj historians. Those in support of Ustad Isa’s name believed the British explanation, which is considered flawed. One Carlo Basil suggested that Ustad Isa was actually Geronimo Veroneo! This was echoed by Rev Heras and Vincent Smith, but contemporary writers also failed to support the theory of a European designer. As it turned out, Ustad Isa Khan was a draftsman in the team, not a mimar.

Sometime in 1930, a work in Farsi, named Diwan I Muhandis was discovered by a scholar in Bangalore, a work penned by Lutfullah Muhandis which went on to mention that one Ustad Ahmad Lahori from Lahore designed both the Taj Mahal and the Red Fort. The record which also praised Dara Shikoh (Shahjahan’s son and Aurangzeb’s enemy) was held in secret as Lutfullah was his follower. Fearing retribution from Aurangzeb the family went into hiding and died in penury, survived only by the book. It turns out that Lutfullah was Ustad Ahmad Lahori’s son and he states in the book that his father was the king’s chief architect who built the Mumtaz Mahal mausoleum and the Delhi fort. This was formally presented in a paper by Dr. Nadvi and has been accepted as fact by most historians.

Fergusson, the pioneer in the field of Indian archaeology and an authoritative historian makes this brief but startling remark about the Taj Mahal, "When used as a Baradhari, or pleasure palace, it must always have been the coolest and loveliest of garden retreats, and now that it is sacred to the dead it is the most graceful and the most impressive of the sepulchers of the world" making it clear that he too had doubts about its origins.

Prof R Nath is steadfast in his works that there may not have been any chief architect (other than perhaps Ustad Isa), and decries the naming of Lahori, stating that a verse of a son praising his father’s work, in a private diary cannot be considered factual, without additional corroborating evidence.

But it should be noted that construction work in the Mughal dynasty was usually executed under the supervision of a senior mimar. The term normally denoted a mason but was also used for the chief of works or its supervisor. Ustad Ahmad and Ustad Hamid, were both expert mimars, so one or both of them may have been in charge.  

A rather pessimistic Robert Chisholm had this to say in a 1910 paper - In regard to its architectural merits, buildings can be found in India surpassing it (The Taj Mahal) in every direction: thus, for size and boldness of construction, the Taj falls far below the Gol Gombez at Bijapur. In his paper he details at length the various architectural flaws and explains - It is as if the man with the idea (the so-called chief architect) had been allowed to experiment with white marble in Shahjahan's time on Humayun's tomb, and that while he worked, the idea of the Taj grew and became perfected; that he worked only on those features which he intended the Taj to possess - the great dome and the facade. That a successor, knowing Humayun's tomb to be his source of inspiration, but not understanding the principle on which his predecessor worked, constructed the four smaller domes and the lighthouse-looking minarets at the angles of their platform after the man with the idea left.

It will certainly be a never-ending effort to determine if it was once a temple, just a Baradhari, or built as a sepulcher, but we do know it turned out to be a lovely building, and certainly each argument has its merits and demerits allowing us to reach no firm conclusion. For now, we can conclude that it was a mammoth effort that took many years and many men to complete, and the result is as we all agree, a lovely edifice, and one which we are all proud of, irrespective of who designed it.

References

The Architect's Apprentice - Shafak, Elif
Islamic Culture, Vol 48, 1974 - Ustad Ahmad Lahori – H I S Kanwar
Eastern world, Jan 1958 - Designer of the Taj – H I S (Hari Inder Singh) Kanwar
The Taj Mahal and its incarnation – Dr R Nath
Taj Mahal – An illuminated Tomb – Begley & Desai plus review/ rejoinder by Dr Nath
The Taj Mahal, Agra, and its relations to Indian architecture - Robert F. Chisholm
The Myth of the Taj Mahal and a New Theory of Its Symbolic Meaning - Wayne E. Begley
The Question of the Taj Mahal - P. S. Bhat and A. L. Athawale
Constructing Melchior Lorichs's Panorama of Constantinople - Nigel Westbrook, Kenneth Rainsbury Dark and Rene van Meeuwen
The Animal in Ottoman Egypt by Alan Mikhail

Also read – Maddy’s Ramblings, Historic alleys

A Pope and an Elephant

Tipu’s delegation to Istanbul 

 

 

 

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