One significant disconnect between me and my History textbook was over the events of the third Battle of Panipat.

Ask any Maratha above the age of seventy, educated or otherwise. The mere mention of Panipat brings out an uncanny sadness. The pain of a singular event is carried down by generations in their collective memory. However, in my History textbook, the Third Battle of Panipat was just another battle. You had the first two battles at Panipat fought and won by the Mughals that established their dynasty. And then, you had the third battle lost by Marathas, paving the way for the British to capture India. A few paragraphs in the middle of a chapter, all that there was to it.

To understand the great disconnect I felt, we need to first explore the pain. In the Third Battle of Panipat, around forty-five thousand Maratha troops laid down their lives. Even if we deduct the Gardi men and other local forces from the North, we still end up with around thirty thousand Maratha troops. To put this in context, the 1961 census used documents from British India to estimate populations in the nineteenth century. The best figure we have is for 1826, wherein the Maratha country is estimated to have a population of six million (sixty lakh). Even if we retain this figure for 1761, to lose thirty thousand in a single day is akin to losing 0.5 percent. The emphasis should be on able-bodied men, mainly of fighting age, twenty to thirty years old. If we consider the sub-group, the impact would be much higher, somewhere in the range of two to three percent.

We all know at least a couple of families or more affected by the Pandemic in corona times. Similarly, the jolt from Panipat must have been felt by almost every family in the Maratha Kingdom. In today’s terms, it is equivalent to the twelve crores Maharashtra population losing six lakh of its able-bodied men in a single day. Thus, each and every family must have felt a real loss from Panipat. Like the Holocaust, it cannot be wiped out from the memory of its people.

Thus, when Panipat is discussed, the pain is evident. The regret is apparent, and a few paragraphs here and there are mere lip service.

The Society that turns a blind eye

When I was in Texas (around 2003), I was astonished by the level of consideration for disabled people in Texan society. Each building, classroom, the library had wheelchair ramps for easy access. Restrooms, lifts, gardens, sidewalks, basically every public space try their best to accommodate the differently-abled.

In a free-wheeling discussion, my friend remarked, “India is a cruel society; it leaves its weak behind, largely ignored.” Instead of reducing the distance for disabled people, we make them walk another mile. Only those who are truly willed, only those who have family support or institutional support from institutions like the army, can cope ahead. The rest are forgotten by society. We turn a blind eye to them. The last couple of decades have seen considerable improvement for the physically challenged. However, children with autism or Down’s Syndrome still form the invisible population of India.

Why does this happen? One thesis was that ours is a society where survival itself is a challenge. Even being completely fit and healthy doesn’t guarantee you survival. In such a resource-poor society, who will bear the extra expense of accommodating the disabled.

The other explanation was that it is somehow culturally embedded in us. We do not like to talk about our failures. We do not accept responsibility for loss. We do not acknowledge failure. Being disabled is equated to failure of some kind and hence is to be ignored. I am not a sociologist; hence I do not have the answer. But, I feel that, with Panipat, the Maratha society has done the same. We carry the scar of the loss, but we do not acknowledge it. Any discussion might throw more expressions on the face of the person than actual sentences from their mouth. It was a failure; why talk, why lament about it.

So it isn’t surprising when Holkar’s Vakil, Krishnarao Gangadhar, wrote in the aftermath of the Panipat,

What is the point in being eloquent about a lost battle?

 

The Author’s perspective

History is about the interpretation of events. Two people differ in their accounts of an event they witness. In History, the difficulty is twofold. The Historians are not witnesses to the event and rely on documents, accounts, and other sources. Every Historical document written carries the biases of the writer. The Historian has to navigate these biases.

Furthermore, the Historian may not have access to all the sources. They face barriers like access, language, and limitation on the sheer volume one can read. Secondly, the Author carries some opinions and biases, which can affect the interpretations and conclusions they arrive at.

Additionally, with Panipat, half of the actors never made it out alive to tell their version of events. What we have is the account of the victors and the survivors.

Hence, it is crucial to understand what is the central thesis of the Author.

The core pillars of the book are :

a. A war between the Marathas and Abdali was inevitable. The power that claimed to be the country’s dominant power (Marathas) could not turn a blind eye to repeated invasions and looting by Abdali. Hence a confrontation was unavoidable.

b. The Author seems to have a soft corner for the Maratha commander – Sadashivrao Bhau Peshwa. His valor and courage are undisputed, but his tactics and conduct of the war are open to arguments. In such an argument, the author sides with Sadashivrao Bhau. For the Author, it was a combination of bad luck, situations, and circumstances that forced Sadashivrao’s hand the way it did. The mistakes are largely mistakes we can see with the benefit of hindsight, which was unavailable to the Commander.

Keeping this in mind, let’s proceed to the book.

War Games (Abdali v Sadashivrao Bhau)

The salient feature of the book’s structure is that we understand the complexities of war. A couple of paragraphs in a textbook convey an impression that the battle was a matter of a day. However, it was anything but.

For those who consume their History through films and series, you need to understand the fundamental aspect of war – No one wants it. No matter how powerful a general, how large the army, the Commander constantly explores ideas to avoid conflict. Even the great Lord Krishna offered peace terms on behalf of the Pandavas, Peace in exchange for five villages. The Lord claimed, “Peace is a necessity. In war, people from both sides die, though only one side wins.”

Since we are talking about the Mahabharata here, let’s see things in context. The epic war at Kurukshetra lasted roughly eighteen days.

In comparison, the Marathas and Abdali forces were eyeballs to eyeball from the First day of November. The conclusion of this stand-off was reached on the Fourteenth of January. The intervening period of seventy-five odd days was full of skirmishes, battles, sieges, and death. It was a very long war by the military standards of nineteenth-century India. In the intermediate period and even for months before, both sides were trying to settle matter diplomatically. Emissaries visited each other regularly. Not only the two chief commanders, other players were also carrying out negotiations. Najib with Holkar, Shuja with Shinde, Bhau with Abdali.

The entire period was of moves and countermoves like an elaborate chess game. Some pieces were in the control of the two commanders Bhau and Abdali. However, some were not in the control of either party, namely, the harsh winter weather, the river floods. Both commanders were master tacticians, and through the book, we see how each side was trying to read the other’s mind before making their own moves. This makes the book an exciting read.

The inevitability thesis.

As discussed earlier, one primary thesis the book tries to establish is that confrontation was inevitable. For this, the book relishes us with an aspect of Maratha’s History that has not been widely discussed.

The Mughals, the so-called great Mughals, were largely subdued to a titular head by the middle of the eighteenth century. And who was responsible for their downfall – The Marathas. The Marathas had weakened the Mughals since the early part of the century. They had begun a practice of installing their preferred Mughal prince as the Emperor. In turn, the Marathas acquired concessions, rights to territories, revenue shares, and legitimacy from the Emperor.

Here lies a curious aspect of the Maratha rule. Why didn’t the Marathas simply depose the Emperor and acquire the throne for themselves?

It seems the general trend in that century was to maintain institutions. Kings, Kingdoms, and the institution of the King were treated separately. The rise of Marathas was rapid, in a sense too rapid to set up administrative institutions. Thus, it seems the powers that be felt maintaining current organizational setups was better than demolishing them. They might have feared chaos from the collapse of those institutions.

So, generally, Marathas kept the existing institutions but dominated their operations. This made Marathas the arbiters of power in North India. This further meant they had to settle disputes amongst the claimants to the head of the throne. This was not limited to the Mughal throne, but other regions like the Rajputana, Punjab, and closer home. However, settling disputes meant siding with one party of the many vested interests. This naturally created animosity amongst those who were left out. Individually these dissatisfied people had no chance against the Maratha might. Even uniting and resisting was hopeless for them. In Abdali, they saw someone who had the strength to challenge the Marathas, and so they courted him to come to India and settle things in their favor. Najib Khan was one such miscreant.

Reparations: A Two-Fold Process (The Ways of the nineteenth century)

Maratha wars during this period were wars of expansion. Not just territorial expansion, the key was revenue expansion. The warrior Sardars of the Maratha kingdom formed a unique structure during this period.

The genius of the structure was its outward outlook. It is said that sharp swords are always thirsty for blood. To avoid Maratha swords spilling Maratha blood, a system was devised. Each prominent Sardar was given territory in each direction at the borders of the kingdom. For example, the Gaekwads were stationed west at Baroda. At the same time, the Raghuji Bhonsle clan became the kings of Nagpur to the east. Each Sardar, besides the allotted territory, was allowed to expand outwards, like the Bhonsles were assigned Bengal, Bihar, Orissa for expansion. The underlying pact was if one of them was under threat, then everyone combined their forces to respond.

To sustain this structure, a revenue model was developed. Each Sardar deposited a set revenue from conquest and territories under them back to the Peshwa. The Peshwa reported the revenue back to the Chatrapati. Each battle was a battle to maintain or expand this revenue stream. One way was collecting direct tax revenue (chouth) from the controlled territory. The other was subduing an enemy and collecting reparations from them.

Collecting reparations was not easy. You first defeated the enemy, brought them to their knees, and made them agree to the terms. Some payment was immediate, but the rest was post-dated. Once gasping for the breath, the enemy heaved a sigh of relief when they rushed back to their fort. And, typical to behavior, they reneged or delayed further payments. So the Maratha forces had to lay a siege/defeat them again to recover the dues.

This two-stage process was more the norm than the exception. Mistrust was abounding amongst the rulers. The Marathas defeated the Nizam of Hyderabad in early 1760; however, a year later were still to receive full dues. One Commander, Raghunathrao Peshwa, was deputed to complete the collection. The mistrust meant that armies from the South could not be rushed North to Panipat. Sensing weakness, the Nizam could raise his head and pounce on the weaker Marathas.

A promise made during a peace treaty was not set in stone, and it was routine to disregard it.

Talking of unkept promises, even those who called on the Marathas for help had a tendency to go back on their word. Military assistance was not free, and the rulers typically promised the Marathas money, wealth, and territory. In their eagerness to get the support, sometimes these rulers overpromised. Territory, revenue rights were easy to give, but liquid cash or gold of those times was not always available. Thus payments to the Marathas were delayed. The Marathas again had to resort to sieges and other pressure tactics to collect dues.

For example, Madhoo Singh of Jaipur promised crores of rupees to Malharao Holkar in the fight against the rival claimant for the Jaipur throne Ishwari Singh. After victory in 1750, when the calculations were made, Madhoo Singh needed to mortgage large parts of his territory for thirty-six years. Considering the times wherein a forty-year-old person was termed to be old, thirty-six years spanned a couple of generations. Consequently, Madhoo Singh reneged on his promises.

All such people, the Najib, Madhoo Singh, the lost courtiers of Mughals, thought an Abdali invasion could keep the Marathas in check. They actively courted Abdali to invade India with the primary objective of uprooting Marathas from North India.

These factors give credence to the thesis that the clash between Abdali and the Marathas was inevitable. Abdali was coming to loot India and subdue Marathas. Marathas were claiming sovereignty over large parts of Northern India; any challenger had to be crushed. A clash was the logical outcome.

The Marathas were also an expansionary power. 1758 is etched in Maratha memory as the symbol of Maratha expansion with the phrase ‘अटकेपार झेंडा.’ The combined Maratha forces of Raghunathrao Peshwa, Tukoji Holkar, Sabaji Shinde, Manaji Paigude reached Attock, a town to the west of Peshwar. The Maratha kingdom touched the borders of present-day Afghanistan. Even the King of Persia acknowledged Maratha power and proposed a Persian-Maratha alliance to depose Abdali. This never fructified; it is speculated that Marathas saw Kandahar as potential Indian territory, while the Persians wanted to retain it. However, this confirms another possible trajectory of conflict with Abdali. Maybe, the Marathas could have invaded Afghanistan in later years, and a war with Abdali would have been inevitable then.

 

The Last Straw – Dattaji Shinde’s Death

Once Abdali entered India in 1760, the air was filled with the possibility of war. However, Abdali had never spent long months in India. His tactic was quick loot and back to his homeland. The Marathas were also busy against the Nizam of Hyderabad in early 1760. All signs pointed towards avoidance of conflict. Chances were that by the time Marathas became free from the South, Abdali would have returned.

However, the tides changed. Sadashivrao Bhau led his armies to a brilliant victory against the Nizam at Udgir in February of 1760. Before they could celebrate, news reached them about the death of Dattaji Shinde. The veteran commander was called ‘God’s own soldier’ and held in high esteem by the Marathas. His death at Abdali’s hands-on tenth January 1760 after the Battle at Burari Ghat was a blow to the Marathas. The Peshwa was duty-bound to avenge the death of such a celebrated soldier. An army had to be dispatched North.

During the same period, in March of 1760, another celebrated Maratha Sardar, Malharrao Holkar, suffered defeat at Abdali’s hands at Anupshahr. The prestige of the Maratha kingdom was at stake. Any show of hesitation could undermine Maratha efforts to dominate the North.

In such a scenario, conflict was still avoidable if Abdali stayed true to his nature and returned with the loot. But, the likes of Najib Khan persuaded him to stay by using religious zeal to mask their personal interests. Abdali decided to linger on and so began the chess game.

The Pieces on the Board

The Indian summer of 1760 was spent by both parties arranging the pieces on the board. Both parties approached powers in the North to become their allies. Some were natural, some were loyal allies of the two parties. The Rohillas aligned with Abdali by way of their Afghan ancestry. Govind Pant ‘Bundele’ and others were faithful servants of the Maratha kingdom, and their alignment was by default.

In this context, a few pieces remained on the board. Shuja-ud-daulah of Oudh (Awadh), Madhoo Singh of Jaipur, Surajmal Jat of Bharatpur, the Sikhs of Punjab, and the Mughals of Delhi. A combination of inducements and fear was used to gain support from them. However, for these players, the decision was tricky, back the wrong side, and get destroyed in the aftermath. Everyone vacillated and tried to maintain distance from both parties.

Of these, Najib and Abdali successfully managed to convert Shuja to their side by using a combination of flattery, the promise of reward and appeals to a Muslim brotherhood. This was a major coup for them as Shuja came with considerable strength and logistical support.

The Mughals swayed to the Marathas. Swaying would imply they had a choice; they had to compulsorily join the Marathas. But then, their support was minimal compared to that of Shuja. Mughals were a spent force, and their support added only ‘legitimacy’ value to the Marathas. The optics of having a Hindu power from the South trying to uproot the Muslims of the North was avoided.

The others, Madhoo Singh and Surajmal Jat, maintained distance. Madhoo Singh was leaning on Abdali’s side and was invested in an Abdali win. He understood the consequences of openly defying the Marathas would be grim. Surajmal Jat initially joined the Maratha force; however, his demand for control of Delhi in lieu of support was not granted. He left the Maratha camp and stayed neutral. The enmity between Sikhs and Abdali should have provided a natural alliance between them and the Marathas. However, river floods and logistical problems kept the Sikhs away from the action.

Thus in terms of alliance making with Shuja by their side, the round went to Abdali.

 

 

 

Sadashivrao Bhau Peshwa

At the time of Panipat, Sadashivrao Bhau was by far the tallest Commander in Peshwa forces. A campaign experience of over a decade in the South wherein he had a string of victories in the Carnatic region. He expanded the Maratha cause greatly in the South, brought in order, and solidified hold over the territories.

The only significant power holding out was the Nizam of Hyderabad. In 1760 Bhau subdued the Nizam in the Battle at Udgir. In the war, he oversaw a decisive victory by combining quick moves and a coordinated attack from his artillery led by the Ibrahim Khan Gardi. Bhau’s march northwards in the first half of 1760 was hugely successful. The Battle of Udgir was followed up with victory and re-capture of the Red Fort of Delhi in August of 1760. Bhau had made his mark in both North and South of India.

If Sadashivrao Bhau had won the Battle at Panipat, the feat would have been comparable to the Napoleonic victories at Austerlitz, Friedland, Jena-Auerstedt in terms of military achievements. And in terms of the area captured, it would have been far greater. “Only IF…..”

In terms of tactics, Bhau managed the campaign quite well. After consolidating hold over Delhi, the Marathas captured the fort of Kunjpura in October. This was significant as they destroyed an entire Durrani garrison and looted the Abdali army supplies. Furthermore, when at Panipat, he instructed Govind Pant Bundle to raid and ravage Rohilla territory. The intention was to cause distress amongst the Rohilla soldiers pressuring them to return and defend their homeland. Secondly, it disrupted supplies to Abdali’s army. The tactics worked; in November and early December, the food prices kept rising in Abdali’s camp.

Thus these rounds went to the Marathas.

Food Prices at Panipat

In the previous paragraph, we discussed the rising food prices in Abdali’s camp. This is closely related to one major criticism of the Maratha campaign: they were burdened by the non-combatants they carried with them. The presence of these non-combatants is cited as the primary reason behind Maratha defeat.

This is a myth. In movies and stories, armies go to war, fight, die, win, lose. In the real world, troops need supplies, including food. The Maratha army left for the North in March of 1760. To reach and capture Delhi, it took them till around August. Troops need to eat daily, not only the men but also the horses and other animals they carry. It is impractical to carry grain in amounts that last months and months for fifty thousand people. Hence, the general practice was to reach a particular place and buy supplies locally. For buying supplies, you need a market because there was no single dealer you could approach for supplies. The procedure was you set up a market, local farmers and traders reached the market to make some money. The market operated on the basic economics of Demand and Supply. When supply to Abdali reduced, his food prices kept climbing.

In this context, the logistics and service chain needed to operate markets, store the produce, maintain stocks and weapons requires people. These people are classified as non-combatants. No army in eighteenth-century India moved around without these non-combatants. At the least, you need cooks to prepare food and feed your army.

Another task you needed people were for simple activities like collecting wood. In the winter of 1760, the Maratha army needed firewood to protect itself against the harsh weather. The Maratha army was lightly dressed in thin cotton, a perfect uniform for the intense heat of the South. However, the long campaign from summer dragged to winter, and the same uniform was not adequate against the winter chill.

In the later weeks of December, Abdali’s men started skirmishes with these non-combatant wood seekers and slaughtered many of them. Supplies to the Maratha camp began dwindling. The Afghans caught a lucky break when Atai Khan (Afghan General) ran into Govind Pant Bundele in Doab. This added to the Maratha woes. Both armies were fast-traversing the territory, and Bundele accidentally fell into Atai Khan’s hands. Bundle’s army was broadly non trained soldiers designed to loot and disrupt supply lines. When they came in confrontation with the trained soldiers of Atai Khan, they had no chance. They perished.

After this, the tide turned. Abdali’s supplies were restored, whereas the Maratha supplies dwindled. By the end of December, Marathas were short of food and rations. Hunger and consequential death began to rise. The freezing temperatures were too much for some men. This round was Abdali’s.

Solstice of 1761

By the winter Solstice of 1761, which fell on the Tenth of January 1761, hunger and death were rife. Supplies were dwindling. The Sardars approached Bhau; the common theme of the meeting was that it was better to die in battle rather than die by hunger. Battle was inevitable.

The Maratha strategy was not for a decisive victory. Instead, they planned to run through Abdali, move southwards, re-group, re-supply, and fight again.

To protect the non-combatants, the Marathas formed a Hollow square. Technically it takes the shape of a rectangle, where you have soldiers standing at the perimeter of the rectangle. The empty space in the center is occupied by non-combatants, thus protecting them from direct enemy onslaught. The front of the square was taken by the artillery forces of Ibrahim Khan Gardi, to their right was Bhau with the famed cavalry ‘Huzurat,’ The right branch of the rectangle was completed by the forces of Malharao Holkar and Jankoji Shinde. The left arm of the rectangle was going to face the Yamuna and had some natural protection, so it was staffed by light troops with guns. The rear also had some light troops and guns.

At the outset, numerically, Abdali’s forces outnumbered the Maratha forces. Sixty thousand troops on Abdali’s side formed a straight wall in front of the Maratha square of forty-five thousand soldiers. On the morning Fourteenth of January 1761, Maratha forces marched into the battle.

The Leaders and The Fight at Panipat

Though Bhau was the default commander of the forces, Nanasaheb Peshwa’s son Vishwasrao was the titular head of the army. The likes of Holkar and Shinde were veteran Sardars and commanded tremendous respect. Ibrahim Khan Gardi was a recent entrant to the fold but had distinguished himself at Udgir in the defeat of the Nizam. Many writers have criticized that the Maratha army lacked unity in strategy. There were many opposing views within the commanders. You have to remember that the names listed above were strongmen with a distinguished and impeccable military career, and with strongmen come strong opinions. The Maratha process was consultative, and some might find it argumentative. But you need to remember none of them had left the extremely long campaign and had stuck together in times of severe hardships. Lack of unity cannot be an appropriate terminology for these men.

On the other side, Abdali was the whole and sole, almost dictatorial Commander. His Afghan troops were loyal to him. When Najib and Shuja tried to advise him on battles and formations, Abdali ignored them and explicitly told them to keep away from military matters. Secondly, Abdali never led from the front. He did not participate in the battle with his troops. He always stayed at the rear of his army. In contrast, Bhau always led from the front and entered the battle with his troops.

When the battle began, Gardi’s artillery ripped through Afghan troops at the right of the blockade. The artillery faced significant casualties but pierced the Afghan right like butter through the knife. By noon Afghans begin to panic. Post the artillery attack, Bhau, with the Huzurat cavalry, fell on the Afghan center. The fierce attack destroyed the line, and only a thin line of defenders remained between Marathas and Abdali’s own tent. Many Afghan and Rohilla forces began running away from the battlefield.

At this point, by virtue of having a bird’s eye view of events from afar, Abdali sensed the danger. He divided the loyal forces with him into two parts. One half was sent back to the tents to begin an evacuation and fleeing process. The other half was sent into the battlefield to kill any deserting soldiers to force them back to the battlefield.

After about one hour post noon, Abdali dispatched more reserve forces to the center of the battlefield to combat Bhau. At this stage, the main battle was at the center. The Maratha right arm was still miles from meeting the Afghan left. The Afghan left had Shuja and Najib; both were tentative in their movements. The Maratha front was mostly destroyed, and the heavy artillery had become grounded and hard to move. The tired and starving Marathas were surprised by the fresh onslaught from the Afghans.

In this intense Battle, Bhau and Vishwasrao were in the thick of things closer to each other. Bhau on his elephant and Vishwasrao on his horse. In a stroke of bad luck – at around three in the afternoon, a bullet hit Vishwasrao, and he died instantly. Bhau struck with grief, came down from his elephant, pushed Vishwasrao’s body atop it. Bhau himself got on a horse to continue fighting.

Now we enter the realm of speculation. Vishwasrao’s death sent panic amongst the Marathas, and some began to flee. At the same time, not finding Bhau on top of the elephant created a rumor that Bhau had died. The ensuing panic meant that the Marathas began to lose nerve. Bhau tried to stem the panic by asking the drums to play victory music to restore confidence. But by then, the panic was overwhelming. Marathas also had some Afghan defectors at the rear. To identify them, they were put in saffron headgear. Finding the tide of the battle turning, they abandoned their headgear and began attacking the non-combatants. Some dramatists have even said that news reached Bhau that his wife Parvati bai was attacked, which made him leave his elephant.

Whichever version you want to believe in, the fact is that after Vishwasrao’s death, the tide turned decisively in Abdali’s favor. In the panic, the forces of Malharrao Holkar and Sabaji Shinde escaped from the Maratha right. This left space for Najib Khan and Shuja’s forces to further encircle Bhau and his forces. Bhau fought bravely till his last breath and died the death of a warrior on the battlefield. Sardars like Manaji Paigude, Tukoji Shinde, Yashwantrao Pawar, Khanderao Nimbalkar, Sonji Bhapkar joined their Commander’s martyrdom on the field. Ibrahim Khan Gardi lost his son and son-in-law in the battle, and he was taken prisoner. Jankoji Shinde was also imprisoned. Samsher Bahadhur (Bajirao’s son) was fatally wounded and met his death a few days later in Jat territory. An injured Damaji Gaekwad, Vitthal Shivdeo managed to escape. Mahadji Shinde was given a chase by an Afghan soldier, who injured him, causing permanent disability. Parvati Bai managed to escape courtesy of Janu Bhintada and Virsingh Baravkar.

The battle was lost, death was everywhere. But, what followed the war was even more cruel. Most of the Maratha survivors were slaughtered in cold blood in the name of revenge. The womenfolk were imprisoned. Killing the Marathas was not enough; their bodies were mutilated. There was no honor amongst the victors.

Strangely. as if exhibiting remorse, Shuja tried to give proper ceremonial rites to the fallen Marathas. He bought off the body of Vishwasrao from the looting Afghan soldiers. Abdali wanted to stuff Vishwasrao’s body and take it back with him to Kabul. Shuja persuaded him against doing so, ‘enmity should be left to the life of the enemy.’

Shuja’s vakil Kasiraj tried to protect and free Jankoji Shinde by paying a ransom. However, the treacherous Najib ensured that Jankoji was murdered. A similar fate awaited Ibrahim Khan Gardi. Shuja managed to get his men to recover the body of Sadashivrao Bhau. Both Bhau and Vishwasrao were given a proper funeral as per Hindu customs.

The strangeness of the battle of Panipat

Shuja’s behavior contrasted with the behavior of the other victors in the battle. He wanted to be descent in victory. The whole aspect of Shuja was strange.

Shuja was a Shia Muslim. He was despised by the Sunni collective of Abdali, Najib, and the Rohillas. Yet, somehow they managed to gain Shuja’s support in the name of Muslim brotherhood. But once he joined the camp, Shuja was kept at arm’s length from all the strategy and diplomatic discussions. More strange is the fact that the most loyal component of Shuja’s forces were Hindu tribesmen – the Naga Gosavis. The fierce Axe-wielding Naga sadhus formed the mainstay of Shuja’s army.

Some historians want to concur with Abdali’s narrative of the war being a Hindu-Muslim conflict. However, on the ground, it was more complex.

After Shuja, if we look at the people who wanted Abdali to invade India. Najib was the agent provocateur, but Abdali was also invited to invade by the Hindu Rajput King Madhoo Singh. On the Maratha side, Surajmal Jat left the Hindu Maratha army over the dispute of who will control Delhi. On the Maratha side, the most damage and death was seen by the artillery of Ibrahim Khan Gardi. The Muslim Gardi army stayed loyal, fierce and embraced death in the fight against the Muslim Abdali.

Post battle, the strangeness continued. Shuja-ud-daulah’s alliance with Abdali ensured that Marathas had no real northern ally of significance. However, post-battle, Shuja realized he had been used, and the promise made to him will not be realized. As clashes between his Shia troops and the Afghan Durrani’s grew at Delhi, Shuja saw it wise to decamp and leave for his territory.

But, the most disappointed of all was Ahmed Shah Abdali. He had spent more days in India than any of his previous campaigns. He had lost more men in battle than all his previous campaigns combined. Yet, he had nothing to show for it. The loot he got was minimal in comparison to his previous visits. The dream of vanquishing the Marathas once and for all was nothing but a pipe dream. Within a month of the Battle at Panipat, Abdali was staring at another Maratha army marching towards him. Nanasaheb Peshwa marched towards Jhansi by February 1761. Abdali had to agree to a settlement with the Peshwa; he could not afford another fight. The Indian princes who had called upon Abdali as their savior realized that they had to fend for themselves. Najib ran to the Kumaon foothills, Madhoo Singh approached the Peshwa for Peace. The other Rajput kings wrote letters professing loyalty to Marathas and even offered territories like Ajmer.

On Twenty-Second March 1761, Abdali returned to his homeland.

Post-Panipat

Many people like to comment that Panipat was the beginning of the end for Maratha rule over India and led to the rise of the British. Many such commentators also view the role of Malharrao Holkar with suspicion. Some view him as a traitor who ran away from the battlefield. Some blame him for the loss, and some speculate that he had a secret pact with Najib to allow for an escape.

The Peshwa also took a dim view of Malharrao’s role in the battle and confiscated some of his territories.

The whole episode reminds me of the movie ‘The Last Samurai.‘ The attitudes towards war and what is to be done on the battlefield. In Samurai tradition, the warrior commits ceremonial suicide “seppuku” if they lose in the battle. Their opponent in a battle is an American Captain Nathan, who has an entirely different set of values. The difference is highlighted in a conversation between Captain Nathan and the Samurai Katsumoto. They recall a battle fought by the Captain’s Colonel – Lieutenant Colonel Cluster. In the battle, the Col took a company of around two hundred men to charge against five thousand angry American Indians (Braves.) By the weight of numbers, the Colonel’s men were massacred.

The Samurai looks upon the Colonel’s death and his men on the battlefield as a glorious death. A death every warrior should have. The Captain views the whole action as foolhardy and views the Colonel as a murderer who fell in love with his own legend.

This highlights the difference in attitude towards what is to be done on a battlefield. What is the Warrior’s Way?

Many people romanticize death on the battlefield as a glorious one. Description of such a death might raise your hair in awe. Such valor, courage, and fearlessness to face one’s own death is definitely admirable, not a feat for the ordinary folk. But, the crucial question is, what was the Maratha way of battle.

Marathas had begun the way of battle by guerrilla tactics. In guerrilla warfare there are no decisive battles; it is war by attrition, war by surprise, war by loot, war by exhausting the enemy, war by raising the costs for the enemy. Single-day battles were rarely decisive wins or losses. Sieges and prolonged skirmishes were the way of life. Malharrao Holkar was a veteran of this strategy; it was more of a ‘live to fight another day’ way of war.

In his defense, Malharrao mentioned that there was a secret pact between Bhau and him, that if the mood of the battle changed, then Malharrao should escape salvaging as much as he can. Furthermore, he and his troops were on the battlefield until way past noon; fleeing did not seem to be their primary aim. Could Holkar have stayed more, could his presence have affected the outcome? Are all speculations. Did he have a pact with Bhau is another such speculation. The men who died on the battlefield took the secrets with them. Even the Shindes did not manage a full escape. Mahadji escaped with severe wounds while the other brothers laid down their lives.

The other problem is that no one had a drone view of things. The Abdali front was thinner, but how thin it was, no one then could have seen from the front. Secondly, Abdali had a numerical superiority of over fifteen thousand, which meant he could add fresh soldiers in the afternoon. Maybe the tide had turned when those fresh soldiers came in to fight the starved and fatigue Maratha soldiers. Perhaps this, and Maybe that.

In the same breath, we need to acknowledge that the survivors of Panipat led Maratha expansion from the front in the coming decades. Malharrao defeated Madhoo Singh later in the year. By 1771, the Marathas had regained everything they had lost at Panipat. They laid waste to many of Abdali’s allies, including the Rohillas and the successors of Najib. Hence, to say that Panipat stopped the Maratha advance is unfair. It was a major battle, which showcased the bravery of the Marathas. Remember, by the time of the battle, the Marathas were starving; their men and horses were dying of starvation. A lesser army would have given in and agreed to terms, but the Marathas chose to make a last stand. And, even with the odds stacked against them, they almost pulled off an unlikely victory. The very fact that Marathas were never going to give in made the northern rulers re-evaluate their positions.

 

As for Sadashiv Bhau, the Author aptly compares him to Abhimanyu, who entered the Chakravyuh with his head held high, never displaying fear, perishing in the process.

Lingering Questions about the Battle

Many historians and authors have commented that Sadashivrao Bhau getting down and raising Vishwasrao’s body to the elephant created uncontrollable panic in the Maratha army. This is said to be a feature of Indian wars. The King or Commander entered the battle on an elephant, where he served as a source of strength and inspiration for his entire army. However, in the same vein, the loss of the Commander was equally visible to demoralize the whole army.

In this sense, a shrewd and seasoned commander like Bhau would have known this fact. He would have considered all consequences when he got down from his elephant and rode a horse into the fight. So to put the blame on a singular factor of him getting down from the elephant is unfair.

Another ‘if’ from the battle. What if Vishwasrao was alive when the tide turned after three in the afternoon? What strategy would have Bhau undertaken? Could he have asked Vishwasrao to be taken to safety? Could he have himself found a way like Holkar did? I am not a psychoanalyst by any means; however, the letters and behavior of Bhau portray a straightforward warrior. Probably, Bhau would have stayed back to ensure safe passage to Vishwasrao and sacrificed his own life to save the Peshwa successor. Now, I am getting into the realms of speculation.

Many dramatists say that Bhau got down from his elephant to rush to Parvati Bai’s defense. We should urge all such narrators – Please Stop.

In Conclusion

The book is a must-read. It is slightly detailed and might bother the casual reader. Many characters are mentioned in passing, so it might be challenging to keep track of them. However, once you get into the groove of things, it is a quick read. The book is divided into three parts. The first part sets the scene, and then we jump into the chain of events subsequently. It took me a couple of days to read the first part and a single seating to read the remainder.

Also, buy the book. The Author is an independent researcher and an independent publisher. He does not have fellowships and sponsors for the research and does much of it for his own interests, using his own resources. So encourage him to write more by purchasing more and more.