Malik Ambar: from Ethiopian Slave to a King in India

The Saga of Ancient Indians
25 followers
One obedient slave is better than 300 sons, for the latter desire their father's wealth,
the former his master's glory. When Malik Ambar was sold into slavery by his own parents in mid
1500s East Africa, he probably didn't expect to make history on the shores of distant India.
But Malik Ambar was no ordinary man. In India, he transformed himself into a king in all but name.
By the turn of the century, he commanded a mercenary army,
married his daughter into royalty, and became the de facto leader of the Amadnagar Sultanate.
But he would soon find himself defending his adopted home against invasion,
locked in a long and bloody conflict with the growing power in North India, the Mughal Empire.
Malik Ambar was born with the name Chapu in 1548 CE in the Harar region of the Christian
Abyssinian Empire, today known as Ethiopia. Chapu was a member of the Oromo tribe,
a group of pagan livestock herders on the fringes of the empire.
Accounts of his early life are mixed. Some records indicate that he was sold into slavery by his own
destitute parents, while others indicate that he was captured during a village raid. In either case,
he was now at the mercy of slavers, who were keen to resell him for a profit.
First, Chapu was transported by ship to the port of Mokha in Yemen,
where he was sold to a slave-trading middleman for 20 ducats, a sizable sum. He was then brought
by caravan to Baghdad. There, ownership briefly changed hands to another middleman before he was
finally sold to Mir Qasim al-Baghdadi. Chapu would stay with Qasim for several years, during which
time he developed skills that would serve him for the rest of his life. It was through Qasim
that Chapu was educated and converted to Islam, and was given a new name, Ambar, meaning the
intelligent one, for having impressed his master with his quick wit and ability to retain enormous
amounts of information. Chapu, now Ambar, became versed in multiple languages as well as the
sciences. Most importantly, he was trained in the art of war. Though Qasim may have had a fondness
for Ambar, the relationship was fundamentally transactional. Once Ambar developed into a
desirable slave for high-end clients, Qasim secured an interested buyer located in India.
In 1571 CE, Ambar was brought by ship to India, specifically to the territory of the Amadnagar
Sultanate, located in the Deccan Plateau region. There, ownership was transferred to his final
master, Mirak Dhabir, who served as a minister in the royal court. It was at this point that Ambar
might have felt a glimmer of hope for his future. Mirak Dhabir was not only of Abyssinian ethnic
origin, like Ambar, but also a former slave. And yet his new master had somehow secured his
freedom and a high status position in Deccan society. Impressive. But while Dhabir's success
was uncommon, it was not unprecedented. Both Ambar and his new master belonged to the Habshi
community. In the medieval era, the Abyssinian Empire increasingly demanded luxury goods from
India and the Arab world. This led to a flourishing trade, which included the sale of human captives
from tribal areas of East Africa. In India, these slaves came to be known as Habshis.
As slave status did not generally pass from parent to child, the Habshi community grew to include
substantial numbers of free Africans and their descendants. As their connection to East Africa
had been severed by the institution of slavery, they had no choice but to embrace their new homes.
While other immigrant groups maintained familial and commercial networks abroad and continued to
speak their original languages, the Habshis learned the vernacular languages of the Deccan
and readily integrated with local communities. Habshi ex-slaves transferred their loyalties
from their masters to their adopted land. This loyalty endeared the Habshis to native Deccani
factions, who saw them as important and capable allies, and over time they came to play an
increasingly significant role in political affairs. Though Habshi men were brought over
to serve as rank-and-file slave soldiers, a select few became officers, commanders,
and administrators. Meanwhile, Habshi women were prized as wives and concubines,
and secured high status through marriage into elite families.
When Portuguese traveler Tomé Pérez visited India between 1512 and 1515 CE, he wrote that
the Habshis were indispensable to the governance of its kingdoms. According to Pérez, they were
looked upon as knights and greatly esteemed. It became clear to Umbar that in India he could
transcend his fate, but it wouldn't be easy. In 1571, he was just one of thousands of slave
soldiers bound to Merak Dhabir. Given the circumstances, he would have to demonstrate
extraordinary ability and loyalty to stand out from the crowd. Fortunately for Umbar,
his intelligence and dignified manner left an immediate impression. He was soon engaged as
his master's personal aide, both in matters of the court and the military. Umbar served Merak Dhabir
faithfully and gained stature in the Madinagar court, learning diplomacy and military strategy
at the highest level. But the 1570s were a chaotic period for the Madinagar Sultanate,
and disagreements over royal succession spiraled into a violent, factional dispute. Court intrigue
eventually led to Merak Dhabir's assassination in 1576 CE. This was a defining event. Habshi
slaves were generally freed upon the death of their master, and that was the case here too.
After Dhabir's death, his widow manumitted Umbar from slavery. But with no support structure in the
state apparatus, Umbar decided to put his soldiering skills to use as a mercenary.
Over the next two decades, he built up a mercenary company with 150 cavalrymen under his command,
and offered his services to whoever would pay, mostly the Bijapur Sultanate but also the Gokunda
Sultanate. In fact, his benefactors in Bijapur were impressed enough that they saw fit to bestow
upon him the noble title Malik, giving rise to the full name by which he is known today.
But in 1595 CE, nearing 50 years of age, Malik Umbar sensed opportunity in the Madinagar Sultanate,
the kingdom he'd served under his former master. Madinagar was in bad shape. It was not only being
torn apart by yet another dispute over royal succession, but was also being invaded by the
Mughal Empire. Malik Umbar joined his mercenary company to the forces of a well-established
Habshi warlord named Aban Khan, who commanded 3,000 men. Together they entered into the service
of the Madinagar Sultanate. But the Sultanate began to crumble around them. In 1595 CE,
the Mughals sieged Madinagar Fort, forcing Queen Chandbibi to give away the province of Berar
to buy peace. But the Mughals only temporarily relented. Berar soon became the staging ground
for the Mughal Empire and their decades-long attempt to conquer the Deccan. By 1597 CE,
the Mughals began to take frontier forts one by one. Queen Chandbibi declared war against the
Mughals, and though the Bijapur and Gokunda Sultanates lent some assistance, she lost.
Frustrated, the Madinagar nobility descended into civil war over an attempt to oust Queen
Chandbibi from power. Exploiting this weakness in their enemy, the Mughals prepared for a final
assault on the Madinagar Fort. They sieged the city and forced Chandbibi to negotiate peace
once again. For this, Chandbibi was murdered by her own soldiers, and the capital was taken by
the Mughals. It seemed as though the Madinagar Sultanate would finally collapse. But if chaos
is a ladder, then Malik Ambar climbed straight to the top. Taking advantage of changing loyalties
due to succession disputes and unpopular peace negotiations, Malik Ambar fanned the flames of
anti-Mughal sentiment and attracted thousands of soldiers to his banner. And when the Mughals
defeated and captured his mercenary partner Abang Khan in 1599 CE, thousands of Khan's soldiers were
absorbed into Malik Ambar's command. And as each month passed, more and more men joined Malik Ambar's
cause. Now a major power broker in the Deccan, Malik Ambar realized the need to solidify royal
authority after decades of internal squabbling. Having established a temporary capital at Paranda,
Malik Ambar placed his own handpicked claimant on the throne, young Crown Prince Murtaza Nizam Shah
II. He then entrenched his authority by marrying off his daughter to the new Sultan and becoming
regent. In all but name, Malik Ambar had become the de facto leader of the Madinagar Sultanate.
In fact, his authority was so complete that the Sultanate came to be known to outsiders as
Ambar's land. In 1605 CE, the legendary Mughal Emperor Akbar finally died. The Mughals descended
into a royal succession dispute of their own, and there was a brief stint of peace in the Deccan
region. But peace could never be permanent. The Mughals would not allow it, for they saw their
dominance of all of India as inevitable. As one courtier famously said, the Mughal force is
double that of the entire Deccan. It is absurd for a few drops of rain to claim an equality with
the infinite ocean of the Mughal Empire. It's obvious why one would think that, just take a
look at the vastness of the Mughal Empire on the map. But it's important to keep things in context.
The Mughal Empire's advantages were real, but hardly definitive. See, the Deccan plateau is
semi-arid with a single, short harvest season. Peasants therefore had the time and financial
incentive to develop new competencies as artisans, merchants, and militarists. This,
in conjunction with the Deccan's large immigrant population, caused the region to swell with talent,
and its kingdoms knew how to take advantage of it. Competency was rewarded. The best administrators
were given court appointments, the best soldiers were given titles and lands. The Deccan had become
fabulously wealthy on the back of this cosmopolitan society. Court records indicate that the Bijapur
Sultanate alone had annual revenues exceeding 130 million rupees, while the Mughal Empire had
annual revenues of 224 million rupees. This despite the fact that the Mughal Empire was several times
larger than Bijapur in both geographic size and population. And that's just one of the Deccan
Sultanates. So, all things considered, the Deccan Sultanates could marshal the resources and armies
necessary to challenge the Mughal Empire, but only if they worked together. Rallying an army
comprised of men from the many ethnic, religious, and political groups of the Deccan, Malikambar
pitted their strong regional identity against the northern imperialism and racial arrogance
represented by the Mughal ruling class. He swore himself to this cause. As Malikambar wrote in a
letter to the Bijapur Sultan, it is my design to fight the Mughal troops so long as life remains
in this body. By the end of 1605 CE, the Mughal succession dispute was over. Emperor Jehangir
ascended the throne in Delhi and reinvigorated efforts to expand Mughal power further south,
but these efforts would be consistently averted by Malikambar. Court records reveal the hatred
and frustrations that Malikambar roused in Emperor Jehangir, who called him a black-faced rebel and
claimed that he was addicted to sorcery. Jehangir was so upset that he even commissioned a painting
of himself shooting Malikambar in the head with an arrow. This anger was born of failure.
By 1610 CE, Malikambar had not only driven the Mughals out of Amarnagar Fort and reclaimed old
lands, but had even ventured into Mughal territory and sacked the empire's principal port at Surat,
causing significant damage to Mughal trade infrastructure.
The secret to Malikambar's success on the battlefield was his commitment to fighting
only when he had a strategic advantage. He was not afraid to retreat and would often feign
weakness so as to exploit Mughal overconfidence. Malikambar made use of light cavalry that were
trained for the mountainous terrain of the northern Deccan and developed a technique that
would later be used by the Marathas to great effect. He unleashed hit-and-run guerrillas on
the slow-moving armies of the Mughal Empire, wreaking havoc on their supply lines and sowing
discord among their troops. 1610 was an important year for Malikambar in other ways too. He'd become
a renowned leader of men and his armies now numbered 50,000. It was in this year that Malikambar
also completed his planned city of Kirki and made it the new capital of the Sultanate.
Contemporary traveler accounts raved about Kirki, describing it as a beautiful city with many
palaces, fountains, avenues, and public gardens. And though Kirki had poor water access, Malikambar
was an innovator. He implemented a unique water piping system known as Neher, which enabled the
to grow to a population of 200,000 in just a few years. It was at Kirki that Malikambar could
project his own inclinations upon the state cultural apparatus. In his time, he was widely
praised for his patronage of both Hindu and Muslim craftsmen and educational institutions.
But 1610 CE was also a test of Ambar's authority. Malikambar's son-in-law was beginning to assert
himself as Sultan. This problem was exacerbated by the fact that the Sultan's second wife,
a white Persian woman, had verbally attacked Malikambar's daughter, the Sultan's first wife.
The Persian wife screamed racial insults and claimed that the daughter was nothing more than
a slave concubine. Malikambar was furious, and he had both the Nizam Shah and his Persian wife
poisoned. He then ensured that his daughter's son with the deceased Sultan was put on the throne.
Malikambar remained in his position as regent, with full control over the kingdom.
Malikambar engaged his political powers effectively, but perhaps a bit recklessly.
For example, Malikambar understood that he needed the support of the local nobility,
and so he reformed the centralized land policies of the Sultanate, which had previously assigned
all land to the state. Simply put, Malikambar gave ownership rights back to the local landowning
class. Here, the Marathas. This initially won him the loyalties of the Maratha lords,
who grew mightily under his leadership. In doing so, he created both a powerful ally
and a political problem. As the Marathas gained influence, some began to play both sides,
at times working with the Mughals. Malikambar was targeted for assassination several times,
though he survived all attempts. But he was not immune to defeat.
He suffered significant losses in 1616 CE, when, in a rare episode, he was strategically outmaneuvered
the Mughals in a battle near the city of Paitan, on the banks of the river Godavari. The Mughals
trapped his Hapshi cavalry regiments in a hidden ditch and opened fire with their artillery,
reportedly killing thousands. Perhaps Malikambar was distracted,
for on the eve of war he had been betrayed by several Maratha chieftains under his command.
They changed their allegiance to the Mughal side and sacked Kirki, putting him in a vulnerable
position. In any case, Malikambar was forced to buy peace, giving up nearly half of the
Sultanate's lands. Though vulnerable, success would soon return. For decades, the Bijapur
Sultanate provided funds and armies to aid Malikambar against the Mughals. In 1617 CE,
however, Bijapur was finally convinced to enter into an alliance with the Mughals.
After a series of defensive campaigns, Malikambar decided to go on the offensive and surprise his
enemies. In 1624 CE, he plundered Bidar, then laid siege to the Bijapur capital. Malikambar
then retreated back to his own lands, to the fort at Batwadi, to avoid getting sandwiched
between incoming Bijapur and Mughal forces. At Batwadi, Malikambar flooded out a nearby lake,
creating a muddy slush in the path of the Mughal army. This slowed their movements,
which he exploited by launching regular hit and run attacks on their encamped forces.
It was only after two months that the Battle of Batwadi finally began. Malikambar had been
replenished with fresh reinforcements, while the enemy armies had been worn down and terrorized
in foreign territory. Unsurprisingly, the clash favored Malikambar's troops. The records note
that the Habshi cavalry utterly ravaged Mughal formations, and that, at the height of the
engagement, the Mughal commander Muhammad Lari was killed. The enemy forces were also taken by
surprise when a separate contingent of Habshi cavalry feigned retreat and circled around the
Mughals, then smashed into the Bijapur troops from behind. This maneuver caused the enemy forces to
break rank and flee. According to chroniclers, Malikambar was swollen to greatness by this
victory, and was enriched with wealth exceeding the treasures of Korra, and with troops numerous
beyond imagination. Malikambar followed this up with a sequence of victories,
taking the fortress of Solapur and adjoining lands. Finally, in 1626 CE, at 78 years old,
Malikambar died of natural causes, secure in his own fortress, no doubt comforted by his many
accomplishments. Emperor Jehangir may have despised him, but in the end, even he could
not suppress his admiration. He had a eulogy written praising his foe. In warfare and in
command, in sound judgment, and in administration, he had no rival or equal. He closed his career in
honor. History records no other instance of an Abyssinian slave arriving at such eminence.
