In late spring, Kashmir appears as a vast inland lake. Rustic villages rise as islands above rice paddies flooded by the spring snowmelt. The views from Pir Panjal Pass afford a breathtaking panorama that extends across the entire Vale of Kashmir. Tiny settlements nestle in pristine oak and conifer forests that merge with alpine meadows set beneath soaring Himalayan peaks. It was a vista that the Mughal Emperor Akbar eagerly anticipated, as he set out on his first journey to Kashmir.

Long before the Emperor’s entourage set out, astrologers and wise men were consulted to determine the most auspicious time for the Emperor to enter Kashmir. Nothing was left to chance. Over 3,000 stonecutters and labourers were hired to improve the condition of the road, while officials headed to the hills to determine the location of the huge camping areas fit for an Emperor and his court. The arrival was a sight to behold. Bystanders watched in disbelief while wide-eyed ragamuffins scurried for cover as their village was transformed into a camp city packed with merchants and vendors, astrologers, men of arms and men of letters accompanied by a huge retinue of advisors and attendants

Leaving the heat and humidity of Lahore far behind, the Emperor’s party gradually ascended the Himalayan foothills. The trails through the forests and verdant meadows became increasingly attractive. The spring flowers thrived at the margins of the snowmelt, shepherds lead their flocks to the summer pastures, while golden eagles glided on the thermals. It was a world away from the bustling markets of Lahore or Agra. In such alpine splendour Akbar relished the prospect of undertaking an extended tour through the enchanted Vale of Kashmir.

It took the best part of a month for Akbar to reach the base of the Pir Panjal. It was the last week of May 1589 and rumours were rife of snowdrifts blocking the pass. Akbar’s advisors met late into the night, mindful that the decision to advance could not be taken lightly. While the Pir Panjal Pass (2,830 m) is not high by Himalayan standards they were acutely aware of the ferocious pre-monsoon storms that could descend on the pass for days on end. They might also have been aware that the ancient sages had cast spells on the pass so that whenever a foreign force attempted to cross the pass, ‘black clouds soon gather and rain and snow pour down’. The next day would determine who was right, the court astrologers or the ancient sages.

Reaching the camp beneath the Pir Panjal Pass the weather seemed perfect. As darkness fell, no one read the ominous signs in the night sky. Whether the Emperor’s entourage were equipped to withstand the elements was soon to be put to the test. When Akbar set off the morning was clear and the day was full of promise. Within the space of an hour gale-force winds slowed his advance to almost a standstill. When he finally set foot on the pass his view was totally obscured in a maelstrom of deep swirling clouds. The distant claps of thunder were a further portent not to linger. Any chance of Akbar savouring his first spectacular view of Kashmir was vanquished in the storm. It was not the most auspicious start to Mughal rule over Kashmir.

Akbar had been Emperor for over 30 years before he visited Kashmir. By then Kashmir had been secured by his army. After crossing the Pir Panjal Pass they encountered little resistance before making a triumphal entry into Srinagar in the first week of October 1656. The Mughal Empire now extended from Kashmir as far as Kabul and Kandahar, a vast territory that had not been governed by a single entity since the times of Kanishka and the Kushan Empire in the first century. The groundwork was now in place for Akbar’s arrival.

Akbar’s three visits to Kashmir offered a welcome escape from the prosaic demands of ruling his empire. Kashmir was to be known as his private garden, a retreat from the rest of his empire. A popular yet in some ways misleading reference, for it was his son, Jahangir, and grandson, Shah Jahan, who were responsible for commissioning Kashmir’s famous Mughal gardens.

Akbar spent five weeks on his first tour of Kashmir. The countryside with its meadows dotted with spring flowers, the scented pine forests and the temperate climate, a world away from the soaring heat of the Indian plains, exceeded his expectations. Yet, if this was a paradise on earth no one had informed the people. Court officials forewarned Akbar that the people were forever subject to famine and abject poverty. The country was in dire need of sound administration, but where to start in a land where ‘there is an abundance of futile talks and concealers of the truth’. It was fortunate that the Emperor could turn to Todar Mal, his acclaimed Finance Minister, who proposed wide-ranging land reforms including an equitable tax system that was not too onerous for the villagers.

As the Shahenshah—the King of Kings—Akbar assumed an almost god-like status. In his exalted position he encouraged debate between Muslims, Brahmins, Christians and Jains, while his Court facilitated freethinking, granting patronage to poets, writers and artists. Not surprisingly, he made time to seek out pious men and hear their version of the divine. Less than a month after his arrival he sought out Wahid Sufi, who lived in solitary existence in a cave deep in the countryside to the south of Kashmir. The highly regarded Sufi led a life ‘gathering happiness on an old mat … Concerning himself little with men’s customs, some called him mad and some called him an atheist. He lived apart from joy and sorrow and took nothing from anybody except broken bread’ .  It is a testimony to Akbar that he acknowledged how the humble Sufi taught him how he could, ‘keep his soul always well pleasing to God as far as his power would allow’.

The Emperor made his third tour of duty to Kashmir in 1597. By now the Mughal army needed to secure its presence and an order was given to build a fort at the base of the Hari Parbat hill. To ensure the army did not place undue strain on the local economy, the precincts of the fort were made into a cantonment. High-ranking government officers were quick to acquire the most prestigious blocks of land to build opulent houses with uninterrupted views across Dal Lake to the ridges of the rugged Zabarwan Range. The huge walls encircling the cantonment were completed later during the reign of Akbar’s son Jahangir. Sections of the masonry remain intact, including the Kathi Darwaza—the main entrance— where an inscription remains in place commemorating Akbar’s reign.

Well before his father’s death in 1605, Jahangir was enamoured with Kashmir. He returned briefly two years later but it was not until 1620 that he came back and spent the best part of nine months in the valley. It was a heaven-sent opportunity to experience the full change of seasons. Little of beauty escaped his notice and like his father he was enthused with the natural wonders of the valley.

Kashmir is a garden of eternal springs or an iron fort to a palace of kings—a delightful flower bed and a heart expanding heritage for dervishes. Its pleasant meadows and enchanting cascades are beyond all descriptions. There are running streams and fountains beyond count. The red rose, the violet and narcissus grow of themselves; in the fields there are kinds of flowers and all sorts of sweet scented herbs, more than can be calculated. In the soul enchanting spring the hills and plains are filled with blossoms; the gates, the walls, the courts, the roofs are lighted up by torches of banquet adorning tulips.

Jahangir took particular delight visiting the mountains. He recounts the beauty of Toshamaidan close to Gulmarg, where he identified over 50 varieties of wildflowers. He describes the flowers with all the passion of a man temporarily removed from the tedious life of day-to-day politics. Indeed the retired British administrator H. Beveridge who edited Alexander Rogers’ translation of the Tuzuk-i-Jahangiri or Memoirs of Jahangir (also known as the Jahangirnama) from Persian to English, asserts that ‘had Jahangir been the head of a National History Museum (rather than an Emperor) he would have been a better and happier man’.

[Niyogi Books has given Fair Observer permission to publish this excerpt from Kashmir: A Journey Through History, Garry Weare, Niyogi Books, 2020.]

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Fair Observer’s editorial policy.