Rachna Singh, Editor, The Wise Owl, talks to Ranjit Powar about her book The Veil and the Sword.

 

Hi Ranjit. Let me start by congratulating you for writing a book that spotlights the contributions of women in the creation of the Sikh Empire. Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to talk with The Wise Owl about your book.

 

RS: History has celebrated Maharaja Ranjit Singh as the architect of the Sikh Empire. What was the moment or discovery that made you realize the women around him deserved to be the protagonists of a parallel history?

 

RP: I cannot say it was any one particular moment. I am fond of reading history, and it irked me that, mostly, when at all, women were mentioned only in the context of famous men, and their introduction was glossed over in one or two sentences. They were marginalised as a certain man’s mother, wife or sister, seldom people in their own right with a discerning mind of their own. This was true of the books I read about Maharaja Ranjit Singh, too. His mother-in-law, Mai Sada Kaur, was celebrated in Dhadi folklore and noted, but not really studied, as the sterling leader she was. Besides, writers portrayed women more for their beauty and physical attraction than for a deeper analysis of their personalities as a whole. I felt the women in the Maharaja’s life deserved a better deal.

 

RS: Your book brings queens, courtesans, widows, and political strategists out of the shadows. Which woman's story surprised or moved you the most during your research, and why?

 

RP: While researching the meagre literature available on the women related to Maharaja Ranjit Singh or those who were his contemporaries, I was surprised to discover that many women had played pivotal roles in some misls by acting as regents for their young sons after the death of their husbands, taking on full responsibilities of managing and governing the misls, including leading them in war. This included Ranjit Singh’s mother-in-law, Mai Desan, his mother, Raj Kaur, and Mai Sukhan of the Bhangi Misl, who actually stood up to the Maharaja’s attack on her territory of Amritsar. Mai Sada Kaur was the most amazing character who took formal charge as Misaldar of the Kanahiya Misl at the young age of 22 and led her armies from the front. She was a woman of dispassionate intellect and tremendous courage. Not only was she an astute strategist and a visionary, but she was also the major force behind making Ranjit Singh the Maharaja of Punjab.

 

RS: Historical records often marginalize women's contributions. What were the biggest challenges in recovering these voices, and how did you distinguish between documented fact, historical inference, and legend?

 

RP: That is correct, historical records generally do not waste paper on writing about women’s contributions beyond citing the number of sons they produced or did not produce and whether they found favour with their husband or not. The biggest challenge in recovering their voices and reconstructing them as living, breathing people who did not just while away their time adorning themselves was the scant material available about them. As we said, history did not waste time writing about them. Ancestry came from men, not women. Empires were headed by men. Not women. Battles were fought and won by men, well, mostly. So if a writer insisted on bringing certain female characters to life, what tools would be available? The basic groundwork was reading the scraps of information scattered here and there in the history records of Ranjit Singh’s era. I also delved into the social structure and ethos of Punjab,

 

RS: The zenana is frequently imagined as a secluded domestic space. Your book presents it as a centre of influence and power. How did women within these confines negotiate authority in a deeply patriarchal political order?

 

RP: The royal zenana was secluded, but only from the general public. That would not hold true for the Maharanis, Ranis, and other favoured women who were bestowed jagirs by the Maharaja, since they administered their jagirs and managed the revenues they received. Women like Mai Moran held their own Durbar and forwarded petitions from the common people to the Maharaja. Many women of the zenana, such as Maharani Guddo of Kangra, were patrons of the arts and embroidery. Maharani Jindan discarded the pardah and stepped out to take charge as regent of the child Maharaja Duleep Singh. The influence of any Maharani, Rani, or courtesan was in direct proportion to her closeness to the centre of power: the Maharaja. Even though Kunwar Kharag Singh was not the best candidate to inherit the throne after Ranjit Singh, Maharani Datar Kaur’s influence with the Maharaja helped secure his anointment as the Gaddi-nasheen to the Khalsa empire. Maharani Chand Kaur ruled Punjab after Kharag Singh’s death as the Mallika-e-Muqaddas, albeit for only three months.

 

RS: As a psychologist, did you find yourself interpreting the ambitions, rivalries, loyalties, and betrayals of these women differently from a conventional historian? What insights did psychology bring to your understanding of history?

 

RP: Even though I am not able to peer into the minds of historians, I have found history to be a chronicle of landmark dates: wars, the rise and fall of empires, and the dates of birth and death of rulers. The dry narrative largely misses the human element. Why do people behave as they do? Why do they make the decisions that affect thousands of people adversely? What are the motivations that drive the human mind? My training in psychology definitely helped in deducing insights into the overt and covert behaviour patterns of the women in the Maharaja’s life and court. In modern times, women would find it hard to comprehend a situation in which forty women co-exist as wives of one monarch, and compete for his attention and time. What kind of a frustrated conjugal life would it be for a woman who waited indefinitely for her husband to visit her boudoir, and maybe never? Most of these marriages were formed to forge political alliances, not for love. Add to it the bewitching courtesans, who possessed far more skills to entice a man than a well-brought-up girl from a respectable family! It is very natural that for survival in such a competitive set-up, rivalries would arise. Besides, the royal wives who were mothers to sons, possible heirs to the throne, would connive to ensure their sons' legacy, even if it meant betraying the trust of their co-wives, the Maharaja and others, to downplay and push other princes out of the race.

 

 

RS:Many of the women in your narrative were navigating love, duty, motherhood, politics, and survival simultaneously. Do you see echoes of their struggles in the lives of women today, despite the centuries that separate us?

 

RP: You have a thoughtful question here. To analyse this question, let us examine how much the social order in Punjab has changed regarding the status, rights, and respect for women over the last 287 years since the rule of Maharaja Ranjit Singh. Society still expects women to be pure, compliant, subservient to their husbands and in-laws, devoted to producing heirs, and committed to familial duties throughout their lives. Attitudes toward women vary across rural, semi-rural, and urban societies, as well as across education levels and socio-economic status.

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I would say many of them continue to struggle when they make choices that differ from what their families and class expect. They face the difficult task of balancing careers while fulfilling the expected roles of wives, mothers, and daughters-in-law. The hardest part is being the person they are rather than casting themselves into a given mould. They often have to make sacrifices to reassure their husbands, in-laws, and children that they love them. Unfortunately, a woman’s love is often weighed against obedience and sacrifice. She also carries the burden of family honour, which can easily be destabilised.

 

RS: The Sikh Empire entered a period of instability after Maharaja Ranjit Singh's death. To what extent do you think the stories of these women alter our understanding of the empire's rise, decline, and eventual fragmentation?

 

RP: The Sarkar-e-Khalsa, created and nurtured by Maharaja Ranjit Singh into an exemplary empire, plummeted into violent bloodshed and decline after his death. The bloodshed was triggered by contenders for power and loot. This race for the throne included women of the Ranwas, as well as their supporters and opponents. It began with Maharani Mehtab Kaur and Datar Kaur, both mothers to sons who would contend for the throne. It continued with Maharani Chand Kaur, who reigned as the Mallika-e-Muqaddas for three months, and Maharani Jind Kaur, who was regent to her son and heir, Duleep Singh. Sada Kaur, Ranjit Singh’s mother-in-law, was also a major player in the constitution and dynamics of the empire of Punjab. These women were integral to the events and destiny of the Khalsa empire after the Maharaja’s death. Their ambitions, intrigues to secure their sons’ destinies, their relationships with men of consequence in the Darbar, and the sagacity or lack of it in their decisions deepen our understanding of the rise and fall of the Khalsa Empire.

 

 

RS: If readers could take away one enduring lesson from the lives of the women in The Veil & The Sword, what would you hope it would be: a lesson about power, resilience, history, or the cost of being forgotten?

 

RP: I wonder if people really have taken lessons from history very often, and the same goes for women. Human emotions remain the same throughout the centuries. Love, envy, ambition, insecurity, frustration, longing and vulnerability. Every woman’s battle for survival is different. Her challenges are different. The forces she tries to fight are different.

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One lesson that I personally feel needs to be kept uppermost in one’s mind is to prioritise a balance of reason, emotion and ambition.

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Thank you for talking about your book, Ranjit. We wish you the very best in all your creative endeavours.