The extent of the historical basis of the Homeric epics has been a topic of scholarly debate for centuries. While researchers of the 18th century had largely rejected the story of the Trojan War as fable, the discoveries made by Heinrich Schliemann at Hisarlik reopened the question in modern terms, and the subsequent excavation of Troy VIIa and the discovery of the toponym "Wilusa" in Hittite correspondence has made it plausible that the Trojan War cycle was at least remotely based on a historical conflict of the 12th century BC, even if the poems of Homer are removed from the event by more than four centuries of oral tradition.

In Ancient Greece, the Trojan War was generally regarded as a real event, though the particular details of the story were considered up for debate. For instance, Herodotus argued that Homer had exaggerated the story and that the Trojans had been unable to return Helen because she was in fact in Egypt. When sixth century Athenians cited Homer to justify their side in a territorial dispute with Megara, the Megarans responded by accusing the Athenians of falsifying the text.

The Trojan War continued to be regarded as essentially historical during the Roman empire, even after its Christianization. In the time of Strabo, topographic writings discussed the identity of sites mentioned by Homer. Eusebius of Caesarea's influential Chronologia gave Troy the same historical weight as Abraham in his universal history of humankind. Jerome's Chronicon followed Eusebius, and all the medieval chroniclers began with summaries of the universal history of Jerome.

Medieval Europeans continued to accept the Trojan War as historical, often claiming descent from Trojan heroes. Geoffrey of Monmouth's pseudo-genealogy traced a Trojan origin for royal Britons in Historia Regum Britanniae, and Fredegar gave a similar origin myth for the Merovingians in which they were descended from a legendary King Francio, who had built a new Troy at Treves.

In the 1870s, Heinrich Schliemann reopened the question with his archaeological exacavations at Hisarlik. This site had been previously identified as Classical Ilion, and thus as the location where ancients had believed the mythic war to have occurred. Underneath the classical city, Schliemann found the remains of numerous earlier settlements, one of which he declared to be that of the mythic city. Subsequent excavations have shown that this city was in fact a millenium too early to have coexisted with Mycenaean palaces.

Since Schliemann, the site has been further excavated and reappraised numerous times, with particular attention to the layers which did coexist with the Mycenaeans, known collectively as Late Bronze Age Troy. Additional lines of research have included excavations at other sites such as Mycenae, potential references to Troy in Hittite records, as well as philological study of the Iliad and the Odyssey themselves. Despite these achievements, there remains no consensus for or against a real Trojan War, and some scholars regard the truth as unknowable.

The more that is known about Bronze Age history, the clearer it becomes that it is not a yes-or-no question but one of educated assessment of how much historical knowledge is present in Homer, and whether it represents a retrospective memory of Dark Age Greece, as Finley concludes, or of Mycenaean Greece, which is the dominant view of A Companion to Homer, A.J.B. Wace and F.H. Stebbings, eds. (New York/London: Macmillan 1962). The particular narrative of the Iliad is not an account of the war, but a tale of the psychology, the wrath, vengeance and death of individual heroes, which assumes common knowledge of the Trojan War as a back-story. No scholars now assume that the individual events of the tale (many of which involve divine intervention) are historical fact; however, no scholars claim that the story is entirely devoid of memories of Mycenaean times.

However, in addressing a separate controversy, Oxford Professor of Greek, Martin L. West indicated that such an approach "misconceives" the problem, and that Troy probably fell to a much smaller group of attackers in a much shorter time.

Another opinion is that Homer was heir to an unbroken tradition of oral epic poetry reaching back some 500 years into Mycenaean times. The case is set out in The Singer of Tales by Albert B. Lord, citing earlier work by folklorist and mythographer Milman Parry. In this view, the poem's core could represent a historical campaign that took place at the eve of the Mycenaean era. Much legendary material may have been added, but in this view it is meaningful to ask for archaeological and textual evidence corresponding to events referred to in the Iliad. Such a historical background would explain the geographical knowledge of Hisarlık and the surrounding area, which could alternatively have been obtained, in Homer's time, by visiting the site. Some verses of the Iliad have been argued to predate Homer's time, and could conceivably date back to the Mycenaean era. Such verses only fit the poem's meter if certain words are pronounced with a /w/ sound, which had vanished from most dialects of Greece by the 7th century BC.


Dextromethorphan/quinidine, sold under the brand name Nuedexta, is a fixed-dose combination medication for the treatment of pseudobulbar affect (PBA). It contains dextromethorphan (DXM) and the class I antiarrhythmic agent quinidine.

Dextromethorphan/quinidine was approved for medical use in the United States in October 2010, and is marketed by Avanir Pharmaceuticals.

DXM/quinidine is used in the treatment of PBA. In a 12-week randomized, double-blind trial, amyotrophic lateral sclerosis and multiple sclerosis patients with significant PBA were given either Nuedexta 20/10 mg or placebo. In 326 randomized patients, the PBA-episode daily rate was 46.9% (p < 0.0001) lower for Nuedexta than for placebo. The three deaths in each of the two drug treatment arms and the single death in the placebo arm of the study were believed to be due to the natural course of the disease.

Dextromethorphan acts as a σ1 receptor agonist, serotonin–norepinephrine reuptake inhibitor, and NMDA receptor antagonist, while quinidine is an antiarrhythmic agent acting as a CYP2D6 inhibitor. Quinidine prevents the metabolism of dextromethorphan into its active metabolite dextrorphan, which is a much more potent NMDA receptor antagonist but much less potent serotonin reuptake inhibitor than dextromethorphan. The mechanism of action of dextromethorphan/quinidine in the treatment of PBA is unknown.

Dextromethorphan/quinidine was investigated for the treatment of agitation associated with dementia, diabetic neuropathy, drug-induced dyskinesia, migraine, and neuropathic pain, but development for these indications was discontinued. Another formulation, deudextromethorphan/quinidine, is still under investigation for various indications. These include agitation, schizophrenia, and major depressive disorder, among others.


Totonac is a Totonacan language cluster of Mexico, spoken across a number of central Mexican states by the Totonac people. It is a Mesoamerican language and shows many of the traits which define the Mesoamerican Linguistic Area. Along with some 62 other indigenous languages, it is recognised as an official language of Mexico, though as a single language.

The Totonac people are an indigenous group native to Totonacapan along the Gulf of Mexico. The Gulf of Mexico stretches from the Texan border to the Yucatán Peninsula. It includes the greatest topographic diversity in the country and contains a great variety of ecozones as well as microhabitats. The Totonac people share their territory with the Nahua, Otomí, and Tepehua (not to be confused with the Tepehuano language), all of which have communities within the region. Totonacapan is located in east central Mexico between present day Puebla and Veracruz. The people of Totonac have migrated to various cities such as Veracruz, Puebla, and Mexico City. Totonac populations are also found in colonized regions of Uxpanapa in southern Veracruz and the state of Quintana Roo in the eastern part of the Yucatán Peninsula. The Totonac inhabit two different types of environments: cool and rainy mesas of high altitude and warm and humid coastal lowlands.

There are some sources that claim that the term Totonac, as explained by residents, means "people that come from where the sun rises." Other explanations of the term consist of derogatory meanings that indicate little capacity or ability to understand. However, there are other interpretations of the term which state that Totonac consist of the explanation that toto translates to "three" while naco translates to "corazón" for the overall meaning of totonaco becoming "three hearts".

Morphology in Filomeno Mata Totonac includes inflection, derivation, and compounding. Adjectives in this language have reduplication, which can also be seen throughout the use of this language. Speakers prefer to use verbal expressions more generally throughout their everyday way of speaking such as using words like "'instead of ‘visitors’, tiintamimáana ‘those who are coming’; instead of ‘seamstresses’, tiintsapananáh ‘those who sew’."Filomeno Mata Totonac is a verb-centric language and includes non-verbal elements as well. Filomeno Mata Totonac marks subject and object on the verb. Nouns in this language have a variety of structures of morphology. Regarding pronouns, there are no gender distinctions within this language. "Only one set of personal pronouns exists which may be used for subjects or objects." The speakers of this language switch between the first person pronoun using either i-, a-, or e-. There is a contradiction between the language speakers of this language regarding the third person pronouns either using 'uu' or 'tsamá' because it can be used in different ways in a sentence.

Regarding possession in Filomeno Mata Totonac, nouns can be inflected for possession however adjectives cannot be. With Kinship terms it always has possessive markers. It states that, " Body part nouns and nouns referring to items of clothing are also almost always possessed." The possessive prefixes are kin- for first person, min- for second person, and š- for third person. kan- is used when it is suffixed to the noun and this happens when a plural possessor is involved.

It is common in this language that possessive affixation does not affect stress except in the noun 'house' which is ĉikị in Filomeno Mata Totonac. What happens with this particular word is that it the stress will shift into the prefix if it is 1st or 2nd person singular or take the plural suffix which will always carry the stress and it will look like "kinĉikkán ‘our house’, or minĉikkán for ‘your house’."When the noun referring to the possessor appears with the possessed noun, the order is POSSESSED-POSSESSOR, with the first noun affixed with possessive marker(s)." This is consistent with the word order being VSO but can change to rule out adjective-noun word order in this case. When plural nouns are possessed, the possessive affixes occur outside of the plural morphemes. This is shown in the following table to give examples of this being portrayed.

Filomeno Mata Totonac has a very interesting way of describing numbers and writing them out. It states that "the number roots from 11–19 are composed roughly of a ‘ten’ prefix and the numerals from 1–9. The numerals up to twenty prefixed by the general numeral classifier ’aq-, also used for spherical objects." The table below will only show the numbers from 1–20.


There were several archaeological cultures in the region prior to the Mature Harappan. These cultures were associated with distinctive pottery, evidence of agriculture and pastoralism, and some crafts. Settlements were generally small, and there were virtually no large buildings. It appears that there was a break between the Early Harappan and the Harappan civilisation, evident from large-scale burning at some sites, as well as the abandonment of certain settlements.  Archaeologists generally use certain strategies to find out whether there were social or economic differences amongst people living within a particular culture. These include studying burials. You are probably familiar with the massive pyramids of Egypt, some of which were contemporaneous with the Harappan civilisation. Many of these pyramids were royal burials, where enormous quantities of wealth was buried.  At burials in Harappan sites the dead were generally laid in pits. Sometimes, there were differences in the way the burial pit was made – in some instances, the hollowed-out spaces were lined with bricks. Could these variations be an indication of social differences? We are not sure.   Some graves contain pottery and ornaments, perhaps indicating a belief that these could be used in the afterlife. Jewellery has been found in burials of both men and women. In fact, in the excavations at the cemetery in Harappa in the mid-1980s, an ornament consisting of three shell rings, a jasper (a kind of semi-precious stone) bead and hundreds of micro beads was found near the skull of a male. In some instances the dead were buried with copper mirrors. But on the whole, it appears that the Harappans did not believe in burying precious things with the dead.  Another strategy to identify social differences is to study artefacts, which archaeologists broadly classify as utilitarian and luxuries. The first category includes objects of daily use made fairly easily out of ordinary materials such as stone or clay. These include querns, pottery, needles, flesh-rubbers (body scrubbers), etc., and are usually found distributed throughout settlements. Archaeologists assume objects were luxuries if they are rare or made from costly, non-local materials or with complicated technologies. Thus, little pots of faience (a material made of ground sand or silica mixed with colour and a gum and then fired) were probably considered precious because they were difficult to make.  The situation becomes more complicated when we find what seem to be articles of daily use, such as spindle whorls made of rare materials such as faience. Do we classify these as utilitarian or luxuries?  If we study the distribution of such artefacts, we find that rare objects made of valuable materials are generally concentrated in large settlements like Mohenjodaro and Harappa and are rarely found in the smaller settlements. For example, miniature pots of faience, perhaps used as perfume bottles, are found mostly in Mohenjodaro and Harappa, and there are none from small settlements like Kalibangan. Gold too was rare, and as at present, probably precious – all the gold jewellery found at Harappan sites was recovered from hoards.  The variety of materials used to make beads is remarkable: stones like carnelian (of a beautiful red colour), jasper, crystal, quartz and steatite; metals like copper, bronze and gold; and shell, faience and terracotta or burnt clay. Some beads were made of two or more stones, cemented together, some of stone with gold caps. The shapes were numerous – discshaped, cylindrical, spherical, barrel-shaped, segmented. Some were decorated by incising or painting, and some had designs etched onto them.  Perhaps the most unique feature of the Harappan civilisation was the development of urban centres. Let us look at one such centre, Mohenjodaro, more closely. Although Mohenjodaro is the most well-known site, the first site to be discovered was Harappa.  The settlement is divided into two sections, one smaller but higher and the other much larger but lower. Archaeologists designate these as the Citadel and the Lower Town respectively. The Citadel owes its height to the fact that buildings were constructed on mud brick platforms. It was walled, which meant that it was physically separated from the Lower Town.  The Lower Town was also walled. Several buildings were built on platforms, which served as foundations. It has been calculated that if one labourer moved roughly a cubic metre of earth daily, just to put the foundations in place it would have required four million person-days, in other words, mobilising labour on a very large scale. Consider something else. Once the platforms were in place, all building activity within the city was restricted to a fixed area on the platforms. So it seems that the settlement was first planned and then implemented accordingly. Other signs of planning include bricks, which, whether sun-dried or baked, were of a standardised ratio, where the length and breadth were four times and twice the height respectively. Such bricks were used at all Harappan settlements.  One of the most distinctive features of Harappan cities was the carefully planned drainage system. If you look at the plan of the Lower Town you will notice that roads and streets were laid out along an approximate “grid” pattern, intersecting at right angles. It seems that streets with drains were laid out first and then houses built along them. If domestic waste water had to flow into the street drains, every house needed to have at least one wall along a street.


The variety of materials used to make beads is remarkable: stones like carnelian (of a beautiful red colour), jasper, crystal, quartz and steatite; metals like copper, bronze and gold; and shell, faience and terracotta or burnt clay. Some beads were made of two or more stones, cemented together, some of stone with gold caps. The shapes were numerous – discshaped, cylindrical, spherical, barrel-shaped, segmented. Some were decorated by incising or painting, and some had designs etched onto them.

Techniques for making beads differed according to the material. Steatite, a very soft stone, was easily worked. Some beads were moulded out of a paste made with steatite powder. This permitted making a variety of shapes, unlike the geometrical forms made out of harder stones. How the steatite micro bead was made remains a puzzle for archaeologists studying ancient technology.

Archaeologists’ experiments have revealed that the red colour of carnelian was obtained by firing the yellowish raw material and beads at various stages of production. Nodules were chipped into rough shapes, and then finely flaked into the final form. Grinding, polishing and drilling completed the process. Specialised drills have been found at Chanhudaro, Lothal and more recently at Dholavira. If you locate Nageshwar and Balakot on Map 1, you will notice that both settlements are near the coast. These were specialised centres for making shell objects – including bangles, ladles and inlay – which were taken to other settlements. Similarly, it is likely that finished products (such as beads) from Chanhudaro and Lothal were taken to the large urban centres such as Mohenjodaro and Harappa.

In order to identify centres of craft production, archaeologists usually look for the following: raw material such as stone nodules, whole shells, copper ore; tools; unfinished objects; rejects and waste material. In fact, waste is one of the best indicators of craft work. For instance, if shell or stone is cut to make objects, then pieces of these materials will be discarded as waste at the place of production.

Sometimes, larger waste pieces were used up to make smaller objects, but minuscule bits were usually left in the work area. These traces suggest that apart from small, specialised centres, craft production was also undertaken in large cities such as Mohenjodaro and Harappa.

As is obvious, a variety of materials was used for craft production. While some such as clay were locally available, many such as stone, timber and metal had to be procured from outside the alluvial plain. Terracotta toy models of bullock carts suggest that this was one important means of transporting goods and people across land routes. Riverine routes along the Indus and its tributaries, as well as coastal routes were also probably used.

The Harappans procured materials for craft production in various ways. For instance, they established settlements such as Nageshwar and Balakot in areas where shell was available. Other such sites were Shortughai, in far-off Afghanistan, near the best source of lapis lazuli, a blue stone that was apparently very highly valued, and Lothal which was near sources of carnelian (from Bharuch in Gujarat), steatite (from south Rajasthan and north Gujarat) and metal (from Rajasthan).

Another strategy for procuring raw materials may have been to send expeditions to areas such as the Khetri region of Rajasthan (for copper) and south India (for gold). These expeditions established communication with local communities. Occasional finds of Harappan artefacts such as steatite micro beads in these areas are indications of such contact. There is evidence in the Khetri area for what archaeologists call the Ganeshwar-Jodhpura culture, with its distinctive non-Harappan pottery and an unusual wealth of copper objects. It is possible that the inhabitants of this region supplied copper to the Harappans.

Recent archaeological finds suggest that copper was also probably brought from Oman, on the southeastern tip of the Arabian peninsula. Chemical analyses have shown that both the Omani copper and Harappan artefacts have traces of nickel, suggesting a common origin. There are other traces of contact as well. A distinctive type of vessel, a large Harappan jar coated with a thick layer of black clay has been found at Omani sites. Such thick coatings prevent the percolation of liquids. We do not know what was carried in these vessels, but it is possible that the Harappans exchanged the contents of these vessels for Omani copper.

Mesopotamian texts datable to the third millennium BCE refer to copper coming from a region called Magan, perhaps a name for Oman, and interestingly enough copper found at Mesopotamian sites also contains traces of nickel. Other archaeological finds suggestive of longdistance contacts include Harappan seals, weights, dice and beads. In this context, it is worth noting that Mesopotamian texts mention contact with regions named Dilmun (probably the island of Bahrain), Magan and Meluhha, possibly the Harappan region. They mention the products from Meluhha: carnelian, lapis lazuli, copper, gold, and varieties of wood. A Mesopotamian myth says of Meluhha: “May your bird be the haja-bird, may its call be heard in the royal palace.” Some archaeologists think the haja-bird was the peacock. Did it get this name from its call? It is likely that communication with Oman, Bahrain or Mesopotamia was by sea. Mesopotamian texts refer to Meluhha as a land of seafarers. Besides, we find depictions of ships and boats on seals.


Let us retrace our steps back to the urban centres that emerged in several parts of the subcontinent from c. sixth century BCE. As we have seen, many of these were capitals of mahajanapadas. Virtually all major towns were located along routes of communication. Some such as Pataliputra were on riverine routes. Others, such as Ujjayini, were along land routes, and yet others, such as Puhar, were near the coast, from where sea routes began. Many cities like Mathura were bustling centres of commercial, cultural and political activity.

We have seen that kings and ruling elites lived in fortified cities. Although it is difficult to conduct extensive excavations at most sites because people live in these areas even today (unlike the Harappan cities), a wide range of artefacts have been recovered from them. These include fine pottery bowls and dishes, with a glossy finish, known as Northern Black Polished Ware, probably used by rich people, and ornaments, tools, weapons, vessels, figurines, made of a wide range of materials – gold, silver, copper, bronze, ivory, glass, shell and terracotta.

By the second century BCE, we find short votive inscriptions in a number of cities. These mention the name of the donor, and sometimes specify his/her occupation as well. They tell us about people who lived in towns: washing folk, weavers, scribes, carpenters, potters, goldsmiths, blacksmiths, officials, religious teachers, merchants and kings.

Sometimes, guilds or shrenis, organisations of craft producers and merchants, are mentioned as well. These guilds probably procured raw materials, regulated production, and marketed the finished product. It is likely that craftspersons used a range of iron tools to meet the growing demands of urban elites.

When historians began reconstructing early Indian history in the nineteenth century, the emergence of the Mauryan Empire was regarded as a major landmark. India was then under colonial rule, and was part of the British empire. Nineteenth and early twentieth century Indian historians found the possibility that there was an empire in early India both challenging and exciting. Also, some of the archaeological finds associated with the Mauryas, including stone sculpture, were considered to be examples of the spectacular art typical of empires. Many of these historians found the message on Asokan inscriptions very different from that of most other rulers, suggesting that Asoka was more powerful and industrious, as also more humble than later rulers who adopted grandiose titles. So it is not surprising that nationalist leaders in the twentieth century regarded him as an inspiring figure.

Yet, how important was the Mauryan Empire? It lasted for about 150 years, which is not a very long time in the vast span of the history of the subcontinent. Besides, if you look at Map 2, you will notice that the empire did not encompass the entire subcontinent. And even within the frontiers of the empire, control was not uniform. By the second century BCE, new chiefdoms and kingdoms emerged in several parts of the subcontinent.

The new kingdoms that emerged in the Deccan and further south, including the chiefdoms of the Cholas, Cheras and Pandyas in Tamilakam (the name of the ancient Tamil country, which included parts of present-day Andhra Pradesh and Kerala, in addition to Tamil Nadu), proved to be stable and prosperous.

We know about these states from a variety of sources. For instance, the early Tamil Sangam texts (see also Chapter 3) contain poems describing chiefs and the ways in which they acquired and distributed resources.

Many chiefs and kings, including the Satavahanas who ruled over parts of western and central India (c. second century BCE-second century CE) and the Shakas, a people of Central Asian origin who established kingdoms in the north-western and western parts of the subcontinent, derived revenues from long-distance trade. Their social origins were often obscure, but, as we will see in the case of the Satavahanas (Chapter 3), once they acquired power they attempted to claim social status in a variety of ways.

One means of claiming high status was to identify with a variety of deities. This strategy is best exemplified by the Kushanas (c. first century BCEfirst century CE), who ruled over a vast kingdom extending from Central Asia to northwest India. Their history has been reconstructed from inscriptions and textual traditions. The notions of kingship they wished to project are perhaps best evidenced in their coins and sculpture.

Colossal statues of Kushana rulers have been found installed in a shrine at Mat near Mathura (Uttar Pradesh). Similar statues have been found in a shrine in Afghanistan as well. Some historians feel this indicates that the Kushanas considered themselves godlike. Many Kushana rulers also adopted the title devaputra, or “son of god”, possibly inspired by Chinese rulers who called themselves sons of heaven.

By the fourth century there is evidence of larger states, including the Gupta Empire. Many of these depended on samantas, men who maintained themselves through local resources including control over land. They offered homage and provided military support to rulers. Powerful samantas could become kings: conversely, weak rulers might find themselves being reduced to positions of subordination.

Histories of the Gupta rulers have been reconstructed from literature, coins and inscriptions, including prashastis, composed in praise of kings in particular, and patrons in general, by poets. While historians often attempt to draw factual information from such compositions, those who composed and read them often treasured them as works of poetry rather than as accounts that were literally true. The Prayaga Prashasti (also known as the Allahabad Pillar Inscription) composed in Sanskrit by Harishena, the court poet of Samudragupta, arguably the most powerful of the Gupta rulers (c. fourth century CE), is a case in point.


The ruins at Hampi were brought to light in 1800 by an engineer and antiquarian named Colonel Colin Mackenzie. An employee of the English East India Company, he prepared the first survey map of the site. Much of the initial information he received was based on the memories of priests of the Virupaksha temple and the shrine of Pampadevi. Subsequently, from 1856, photographers began to record the monuments which enabled scholars to study them. As early as 1836 epigraphists began collecting several dozen inscriptions found at this and other temples at Hampi. In an effort to reconstruct the history of the city and the empire, historians collated information from these sources with accounts of foreign travellers and other literature written in Telugu, Kannada, Tamil and Sanskrit.

According to tradition and epigraphic evidence two brothers, Harihara and Bukka, founded the Vijayanagara Empire in 1336. This empire included within its fluctuating frontiers peoples who spoke different languages and followed different religious traditions.

On their northern frontier, the Vijayanagara kings competed with contemporary rulers – including the Sultans of the Deccan and the Gajapati rulers of Orissa – for control of the fertile river valleys and the resources generated by lucrative overseas trade. At the same time, interaction between these states led to sharing of ideas, especially in the field of architecture. The rulers of Vijayanagara borrowed concepts and building techniques which they then developed further.

Some of the areas that were incorporated within the empire had witnessed the development of powerful states such as those of the Cholas in Tamil Nadu and the Hoysalas in Karnataka. Ruling elites in these areas had extended patronage to elaborate temples such as the Brihadishvara temple at Thanjavur and the Chennakeshava temple at Belur. The rulers of Vijayanagara, who called themselves rayas, built on these traditions and carried them, as we will see, literally to new heights.

The most striking feature about the location of Vijayanagara is the natural basin formed by the river Tungabhadra which flows in a north-easterly direction. The surrounding landscape is characterised by stunning granite hills that seem to form a girdle around the city. A number of streams flow down to the river from these rocky outcrops.

In almost all cases embankments were built along these streams to create reservoirs of varying sizes. As this is one of the most arid zones of the peninsula, elaborate arrangements had to be made to store rainwater and conduct it to the city. The most important such tank was built in the early years of the fifteenth century and is now called Kamalapuram tank. Water from this tank not only irrigated fields nearby but was also conducted through a channel to the “royal centre”.

One of the most prominent waterworks to be seen among the ruins is the Hiriya canal. This canal drew water from a dam across the Tungabhadra and irrigated the cultivated valley that separated the “sacred centre” from the “urban core”. This was apparently built by kings of the Sangama dynasty.


Chronicles commissioned by the Mughal emperors are an important source for studying the empire and its court. They were written in order to project a vision of an enlightened kingdom to all those who came under its umbrella. At the same time they were meant to convey to those who resisted the rule of the Mughals that all resistance was destined to fail. Also, the rulers wanted to ensure that there was an account of their rule for posterity.

The authors of Mughal chronicles were invariably courtiers. The histories they wrote focused on events centred on the ruler, his family, the court and nobles, wars and administrative arrangements. Their titles, such as the Akbar Nama, Shahjahan Nama, Alamgir Nama, that is, the story of Akbar, Shah Jahan and Alamgir (a title of the Mughal ruler Aurangzeb), suggest that in the eyes of their authors the history of the empire and the court was synonymous with that of the emperor.

Mughal court chronicles were written in Persian. Under the Sultans of Delhi it flourished as a language of the court and of literary writings, alongside north Indian languages, especially Hindavi and its regional variants. As the Mughals were Chaghtai Turks by origin, Turkish was their mother tongue. Their first ruler Babur wrote poetry and his memoirs in this language.

It was Akbar who consciously set out to make Persian the leading language of the Mughal court. Cultural and intellectual contacts with Iran, as well as a regular stream of Iranian and Central Asian migrants seeking positions at the Mughal court, might have motivated the emperor to adopt the language. Persian was elevated to a language of empire, conferring power and prestige on those who had a command of it. It was spoken by the king, the royal household and the elite at court. Further, it became the language of administration at all levels so that accountants, clerks and other functionaries also learnt it.

Even when Persian was not directly used, its vocabulary and idiom heavily influenced the language of official records in Rajasthani and Marathi and even Tamil. Since the people using Persian in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries came from many different regions of the subcontinent and spoke other Indian languages, Persian too became Indianised by absorbing local idioms. A new language, Urdu, sprang from the interaction of Persian with Hindavi.

Mughal chronicles such as the Akbar Nama were written in Persian, others, like Babur’s memoirs, were translated from the Turkish into the Persian Babur Nama. Translations of Sanskrit texts such as the Mahabharata and the Ramayana into Persian were commissioned by the Mughal emperors. The Mahabharata was translated as the Razmnama (Book of Wars).

All books in Mughal India were manuscripts, that is, they were handwritten. The centre of manuscript production was the imperial kitabkhana. Although kitabkhana can be translated as library, it was a scriptorium, that is, a place where the emperor’s collection of manuscripts was kept and new manuscripts were produced.

The creation of a manuscript involved a number of people performing a variety of tasks. Paper makers were needed to prepare the folios of the manuscript, scribes or calligraphers to copy the text, gilders to illuminate the pages, painters to illustrate scenes from the text, bookbinders to gather the individual folios and set them within ornamental covers. The finished manuscript was seen as a precious object, a work of intellectual wealth and beauty. It exemplified the power of its patron, the Mughal emperor, to bring such beauty into being.

At the same time some of the people involved in the actual production of the manuscript also got recognition in the form of titles and awards. Of these, calligraphers and painters held a high social standing while others, such as paper makers or bookbinders, have remained anonymous artisans.

Calligraphy, the art of handwriting, was considered a skill of great importance. It was practised using different styles. Akbar’s favourite was the nastaliq, a fluid style with long horizontal strokes. It is written using a piece of trimmed reed with a tip of five to 10 mm called qalam, dipped in carbon ink (siyahi). The nib of the qalam is usually split in the middle to facilitate the absorption of ink.


As you know, colonial rule was first established in Bengal. It is here that the earliest attempts were made to reorder rural society and establish a new regime of land rights and a new revenue system. Let us see what happened in Bengal in the early years of Company (E.I.C.) rule.

The Company had recognised the zamindars as important, but it wanted to control and regulate them, subdue their authority and restrict their autonomy. The zamindars’ troops were disbanded, customs duties abolished, and their “cutcheries” (courts) brought under the supervision of a Collector appointed by the Company. Zamindars lost their power to organise local justice and the local police. Over time the collectorate emerged as an alternative centre of authority, severely restricting what the zamindar could do. In one case, when a raja failed to pay the revenue, a Company official was speedily dispatched to his zamindari with explicit instructions “to take charge of the District and to use the most effectual means to destroy all the influence and the authority of the raja and his officers”.

At the time of rent collection, an officer of the zamindar, usually the amlah, came around to the village. But rent collection was a perennial problem. Sometimes bad harvests and low prices made payment of dues difficult for the ryots. At other times ryots deliberately delayed payment. Rich ryots and village headmen – jotedars and mandals – were only too happy to see the zamindar in trouble. The zamindar could therefore not easily assert his power over them. Zamindars could prosecute defaulters, but the judicial process was long drawn. In Burdwan alone there were over 30,000 pending suits for arrears of rent payment in 1798.

While many zamindars were facing a crisis at the end of the eighteenth century, a group of rich peasants were consolidating their position in the villages. In Francis Buchanan’s survey of the Dinajpur district in North Bengal we have a vivid description of this class of rich peasants known as jotedars. By the early nineteenth century, jotedars had acquired vast areas of land – sometimes as much as several thousand acres. They controlled local trade as well as moneylending, exercising immense power over the poorer cultivators of the region. A large part of their land was cultivated through sharecroppers (adhiyars or bargadars) who brought their own ploughs, laboured in the field, and handed over half the produce to the jotedars after the harvest.
Within the villages, the power of jotedars was more effective than that of zamindars. Unlike zamindars who often lived in urban areas, jotedars were located in the villages and exercised direct control over a considerable section of poor villagers. They fiercely resisted efforts by zamindars to increase the jama of the village, prevented zamindari officials from executing their duties, mobilised ryots who were dependent on them, and deliberately delayed payments of revenue to the zamindar. In fact, when the estates of the zamindars were auctioned for failure to make revenue payment, jotedars were often amongst the purchasers.

The jotedars were most powerful in North Bengal, although rich peasants and village headmen were emerging as commanding figures in the countryside in other parts of Bengal as well. In some places they were called haoladars, elsewhere they were known as gantidars or mandals. Their rise inevitably weakened zamindari authority.

The life of the Paharias – as hunters, shifting cultivators, food gatherers, charcoal producers, silkworm rearers – was thus intimately connected to the forest. They lived in hutments within tamarind groves, and rested in the shade of mango trees. They considered the entire region as their land, the basis of their identity as well as survival; and they resisted the intrusion of outsiders. Their chiefs maintained the unity of the group, settled disputes, and led the tribe in battles with other tribes and plainspeople.

With their base in the hills, the Paharias regularly raided the plains where settled agriculturists lived. These raids were necessary for survival, particularly in years of scarcity; they were a way of asserting power over settled communities; and they were a means of negotiating political relations with outsiders. The zamindars on the plains had to often purchase peace by paying a regular tribute to the hill chiefs. Traders similarly gave a small amount to the hill folk for permission to use the passes controlled by them. Once the toll was paid, the Paharia chiefs protected the traders, ensuring that their goods were not plundered by anyone.


Within the villages, the power of jotedars was more effective than that of zamindars. Unlike zamindars who often lived in urban areas, jotedars were located in the villages and exercised direct control over a considerable section of poor villagers. They fiercely resisted efforts by zamindars to increase the jama of the village, prevented zamindari officials from executing their duties, mobilised ryots who were dependent on them, and deliberately delayed payments of revenue to the zamindar. In fact, when the estates of the zamindars were auctioned for failure to make revenue payment, jotedars were often amongst the purchasers.

The jotedars were most powerful in North Bengal, although rich peasants and village headmen were emerging as commanding figures in the countryside in other parts of Bengal as well. In some places they were called haoladars, elsewhere they were known as gantidars or mandals. Their rise inevitably weakened zamindari authority.

The life of the Paharias – as hunters, shifting cultivators, food gatherers, charcoal producers, silkworm rearers – was thus intimately connected to the forest. They lived in hutments within tamarind groves, and rested in the shade of mango trees. They considered the entire region as their land, the basis of their identity as well as survival; and they resisted the intrusion of outsiders. Their chiefs maintained the unity of the group, settled disputes, and led the tribe in battles with other tribes and plainspeople.

With their base in the hills, the Paharias regularly raided the plains where settled agriculturists lived. These raids were necessary for survival, particularly in years of scarcity; they were a way of asserting power over settled communities; and they were a means of negotiating political relations with outsiders. The zamindars on the plains had to often purchase peace by paying a regular tribute to the hill chiefs. Traders similarly gave a small amount to the hill folk for permission to use the passes controlled by them. Once the toll was paid, the Paharia chiefs protected the traders, ensuring that their goods were not plundered by anyone.

Santhal myths and songs of the nineteenth century refer very frequently to a long history of travel: they represent the Santhal past as one of continuous mobility, a tireless search for a place to settle. Here in the Damin-i-Koh their journey seemed to have come to an end.

When the Santhals settled on the peripheries of the Rajmahal hills, the Paharias resisted but were ultimately forced to withdraw deeper into the hills. Restricted from moving down to the lower hills and valleys, they were confined to the dry interior and to the more barren and rocky upper hills. This severely affected their lives, impoverishing them in the long term. Shifting agriculture depended on the ability to move to newer and newer land and utilisation of the natural fertility of the soil. When the most fertile soils became inaccessible to them, being part of the Damin, the Paharias could not effectively sustain their mode of cultivation. When the forests of the region were cleared for cultivation the hunters amongst them also faced problems. The Santhals, by contrast, gave up their earlier life of mobility and settled down, cultivating a range of commercial crops for the market, and dealing with traders and moneylenders.

The Santhals, however, soon found that the land they had brought under cultivation was slipping away from their hands. The state was levying heavy taxes on the land that the Santhals had cleared, moneylenders (dikus) were charging them high rates of interest and taking over the land when debts remained unpaid, and zamindars were asserting control over the Damin area.

By the 1850s, the Santhals felt that the time had come to rebel against zamindars, moneylenders and the colonial state, in order to create an ideal world for themselves where they would rule. It was after the Santhal Revolt (1855-56) that the Santhal Pargana was created, carving out 5,500 square miles from the districts of Bhagalpur and Birbhum. The colonial state hoped that by creating a new territory for the Santhals and imposing some special laws within it, the Santhals could be conciliated.


By the eighteenth century Madras, Calcutta and Bombay had become important ports. The settlements that came up here were convenient points for collecting goods. The English East India Company built its factories (i.e., mercantile offices) there and because of competition among the European companies, fortified these settlements for protection. In Madras, Fort St George, in Calcutta Fort William and in Bombay the Fort marked out the areas of British settlement. Indian merchants, artisans and other workers who had economic dealings with European merchants lived outside these forts in settlements of their own. Thus, from the beginning there were separate quarters for Europeans and Indians, which came to be labelled in contemporary writings as the “White Town” and “Black Town” respectively. Once the British captured political power these racial distinctions became sharper.

From the mid-nineteenth century the expanding network of railways linked these cities to the rest of the country. As a result the hinterland – the countryside from where raw materials and labour were drawn – became more closely linked to these port cities. Since raw material was transported to these cities for export and there was plentiful cheap labour available, it was convenient to set up modern factories there. After the 1850s, cotton mills were set up by Indian merchants and entrepreneurs in Bombay, and European-owned jute mills were established on the outskirts of Calcutta. This was the beginning of modern industrial development in India.

Although Calcutta, Bombay and Madras supplied raw materials for industry in England, and had emerged because of modern economic forces like capitalism, their economies were not primarily based on factory production. The majority of the working population in these cities belonged to what economists classify as the tertiary sector. There were only two proper “industrial cities”: Kanpur, specialising in leather, woollen and cotton textiles, and Jamshedpur, specialising in steel. India never became a modern industrialised country, since discriminatory colonial policies limited the levels of industrial development. Calcutta, Bombay and Madras grew into large cities, but this did not signify any dramatic economic growth for colonial India as a whole.

Colonial cities reflected the mercantile culture of the new rulers. Political power and patronage shifted from Indian rulers to the merchants of the East India Company. Indians who worked as interpreters, middlemen, traders and suppliers of goods also had an important place in these new cities. Economic activity near the river or the sea led to the development of docks and ghats. Along the shore were godowns, mercantile offices, insurance agencies for shipping, transport depots, banking establishments. Further inland were the chief administrative offices of the Company. The Writers’ Building in Calcutta was one such office. Around the periphery of the Fort, European merchants and agents built palatial houses in European styles. Some built garden houses in the suburbs. Racially exclusive clubs, racecourses and theatres were also built for the ruling elite.

The rich Indian agents and middlemen built large traditional courtyard houses in the Black Town in the vicinity of the bazaars. They bought up large tracts of land in the city as future investment. To impress their English masters they threw lavish parties during festivals. They also built temples to establish their status in society. The labouring poor provided a variety of services to their European and Indian masters as cooks, palanquin bearers, coachmen, guards, porters and construction and dock workers. They lived in makeshift huts in different parts of the city.

The nature of the colonial city changed further in the mid-nineteenth century. After the Revolt of 1857 British attitudes in India were shaped by a constant fear of rebellion. They felt that towns needed to be better defended, and white people had to live in more secure and segregated enclaves, away from the threat of the “natives”. Pasturelands and agricultural fields around the older towns were cleared, and new urban spaces called “Civil Lines” were set up. White people began to live in the Civil Lines. Cantonments– places where Indian troops under European command were stationed – were also developed as safe enclaves. These areas were separate from but attached to the Indian towns. With broad streets, bungalows set amidst large gardens, barracks, parade ground and church, they were meant as a safe haven for Europeans as well as a model of ordered urban life in contrast to the densely built- up Indian towns.

For the British, the “Black” areas came to symbolise not only chaos and anarchy, but also filth and disease. For a long while the British were interested primarily in the cleanliness and hygiene of the “White” areas. But as epidemics of cholera and plague spread, killing thousands, colonial officials felt the need for more stringent measures of sanitation and public health. They feared that disease would spread from the “Black” to the “White” areas. From the 1860s and 1870s, stringent administrative measures regarding sanitation were implemented and building activity in the Indian towns was regulated. Underground piped water supply and sewerage and drainage systems were also put in place around this time. Sanitary vigilance thus became another way of regulating Indian towns.


By the late nineteenth century, official intervention in the city became more stringent.
Gone were the days when town
planning was seen as a task to be
shared by inhabitants and the government. Instead, the government took over all the initiatives for town planning including funding. This opportunity was used to clear more huts and develop the British portions of the town at the expense of other areas. The existing racial divide of the “White Town” and “Black Town” was reinforced by the new divide of “healthy” and “unhealthy”. Indian representatives in the municipality protested against this unfair bias towards the development of the European parts of the town. Public protests against these government policies strengthened the feeling of anti-colonialism and nationalism among Indians.

If one way of realising this imperial vision was through town planning, the other was through embellishing cities with monumental buildings. Buildings in cities could include forts, government offices, educational institutions, religious structures, commemorative towers, commercial depots, or even docks and bridges. Although primarily serving functional needs like defence, administration and commerce these were rarely simple structures. They were often meant to represent ideas such as imperial power, nationalism and religious glory. Let us see how this is exemplified in the case of Bombay.

Bombay was initially seven islands. As the population grew, the islands were joined to create more space and they gradually fused into one big city. Bombay was the commercial capital of colonial India. As the premier port on the western coast it was the centre of international trade. By the end of the nineteenth century, half the imports and exports of India passed through Bombay. One important item of this trade was opium that the East India Company exported to China. Indian merchants and middlemen supplied and participated in this trade and they helped integrate Bombay’s economy directly to Malwa, Rajasthan and Sind where opium was grown. This collaboration with the Company was profitable and led to the growth of an Indian capitalist class. Bombay’s capitalists came from diverse communities such as Parsi, Marwari, Konkani Muslim, Gujarati Bania, Bohra, Jew and Armenian.

As you have read (Chapter 10), when the American Civil War started in 1861 cotton from the American South stopped coming into the international market. This led to an upsurge of demand for Indian cotton, grown primarily in the Deccan. Once again Indian merchants and middlemen found an opportunity for earning huge profits. In 1869 the Suez Canal was opened and this further strengthened Bombay’s links with the world economy. The Bombay government and Indian merchants used this opportunity to declare Bombay Urbs Prima in Indis, a Latin phrase meaning the most important city of India. By the late nineteenth century Indian merchants in Bombay were investing their wealth in new ventures such as cotton mills. They also patronised building activity in the city.

As Bombay’s economy grew, from the mid-nineteenth century there was a need to expand railways and shipping and develop the administrative structure. Many new buildings were constructed at this time. These buildings reflected the culture and confidence of the rulers. The architectural style was usually European. This importation of European styles reflected the imperial vision in several ways. First, it expressed the British desire to create a familiar landscape in an alien country, and thus to feel at home in the colony. Second, the British felt that European styles would best symbolise their superiority, authority and power. Third, they thought that buildings that looked European would mark out the difference and distance between the colonial masters and their Indian subjects.


By 1922, Gandhiji had transformed Indian nationalism, thereby redeeming the promise he made in his BHU speech of February 1916. It was no longer a movement of professionals and intellectuals; now, hundreds of thousands of peasants, workers and artisans also participated in it. Many of them venerated Gandhiji, referring to him as their “Mahatma”. They appreciated the fact that he dressed like them, lived like them, and spoke their language. Unlike other leaders he did not stand apart from the common folk, but empathised and even identified with them.

This identification was strikingly reflected in his dress: while other nationalist leaders dressed formally, wearing a Western suit or an Indian bandgala, Gandhiji went among the people in a simple dhoti or loincloth. Meanwhile, he spent part of each day working on the charkha (spinning wheel), and encouraged other nationalists to do likewise. The act of spinning allowed Gandhiji to break the boundaries that prevailed within the traditional caste system, between mental labour and manual labour.

In a fascinating study, the historian Shahid Amin has traced the image of Mahatma Gandhi among the peasants of eastern Uttar Pradesh, as conveyed by reports and rumours in the local press. When he travelled through the region in February 1921, Gandhiji was received by adoring crowds everywhere.

Wherever Gandhiji went, rumours spread of his miraculous powers. In some places it was said that he had been sent by the King to redress the grievances of the farmers, and that he had the power to overrule all local officials. In other places it was claimed that Gandhiji’s power was superior to that of the English monarch, and that with his arrival the colonial rulers would flee the district. There were also stories reporting dire consequences for those who opposed him; rumours spread of how villagers who criticised Gandhiji found their houses mysteriously falling apart or their crops failing.

Known variously as “Gandhi baba”, “Gandhi Maharaj”, or simply as “Mahatma”, Gandhiji appeared to the Indian peasant as a saviour, who would rescue them from high taxes and oppressive officials and restore dignity and autonomy to their lives. Gandhiji’s appeal among the poor, and peasants in particular, was enhanced by his ascetic lifestyle, and by his shrewd use of symbols such as the dhoti and the charkha. Mahatma Gandhi was by caste a merchant, and by profession a lawyer; but his simple lifestyle and love of working with his hands allowed him to empathise more fully with the labouring poor and for them, in turn, to empathise with him. Where most other politicians talked down to them, Gandhiji appeared not just to look like them, but to understand them and relate to their lives.

While Mahatma Gandhi’s mass appeal was undoubtedly genuine – and in the context of Indian politics, without precedent – it must also be stressed that his success in broadening the basis of nationalism was based on careful organisation. New branches of the Congress were set up in various parts of India. A series of “Praja Mandals” were established to promote the nationalist creed in the princely states. Gandhiji encouraged the communication of the nationalist message in the mother tongue, rather than in the language of the rulers, English. Thus the provincial committees of the Congress were based on linguistic regions, rather than on the artificial boundaries of British India. In these different ways nationalism was taken to the farthest corners of the country and embraced by social groups previously untouched by it.


For several years after the Non-cooperation Movement ended, Mahatma Gandhi focused on his social reform work. In 1928, however, he began to think of re-entering politics. That year there was an all-India campaign in opposition to the all-White Simon Commission, sent from England to enquire into conditions in the colony. Gandhiji did not himself participate in this movement, although he gave it his blessings, as he also did to a peasant satyagraha in Bardoli in the same year.

In the end of December 1929, the Congress held its annual session in the city of Lahore. The meeting was significant for two things: the election of Jawaharlal Nehru as President, signifying the passing of the baton of leadership to the younger generation; and the proclamation of commitment to “Purna Swaraj”, or complete independence. Now the pace of politics picked up once more. On 26 January 1930, “Independence Day” was observed, with the national flag being hoisted in different venues, and patriotic songs being sung. Gandhiji himself issued precise instructions as to how the day should be observed. “It would be good,” he said, “if the declaration [of Independence] is made by whole villages, whole cities even. It would be well if all the meetings were held at the identical minute in all the places.”

Gandhiji suggested that the time of the meeting be advertised in the traditional way, by the beating of drums. The celebrations would begin with the hoisting of the national flag. The rest of the day would be spent “in doing some constructive work, whether it is spinning, or service of ‘untouchables’, or reunion of Hindus and Mussalmans, or prohibition work, or even all these together, which is not impossible”. Participants would take a pledge affirming that it was “the inalienable right of the Indian people, as of any other people, to have freedom and to enjoy the fruits of their toil”, and that “if any government deprives a people of these rights and oppresses them, the people have a further right to alter it or abolish it”.

Soon after the observance of this “Independence Day”, Mahatma Gandhi announced that he would lead a march to break one of the most widely disliked laws in British India, which gave the state a monopoly in the manufacture and sale of salt. His picking on the salt monopoly was another illustration of Gandhiji’s tactical wisdom. For in every Indian household, salt was indispensable; yet people were forbidden from making salt even for domestic use, compelling them to buy it from shops at a high price. The state monopoly over salt was deeply unpopular; by making it his target, Gandhiji hoped to mobilise a wider discontent against British rule.

Where most Indians understood the significance of Gandhiji’s challenge, the British Raj apparently did not. Although Gandhiji had given advance notice of his “Salt March” to the Viceroy Lord Irwin, Irwin failed to grasp the significance of the action. On 12 March 1930, Gandhiji began walking from his ashram at Sabarmati towards the ocean. He reached his destination three weeks later, making a fistful of salt as he did and thereby making himself a criminal in the eyes of the law. Meanwhile, parallel salt marches were being conducted in other parts of the country.


The Congress ministries also contributed to the widening rift. In the United Provinces, the party had rejected the Muslim League proposal for a coalition government partly because the League tended to support landlordism, which the Congress wished to abolish, although the party had not yet taken any concrete steps in that direction. Nor did the Congress achieve any substantial gains in the “Muslim mass contact” programme it launched. In the end, the secular and radical rhetoric of the Congress merely alarmed conservative Muslims and the Muslim landed elite, without winning over the Muslim masses.

Moreover, while the leading Congress leaders in the late 1930s insisted more than ever before on the need for secularism, these ideas were by no means universally shared lower down in the party hierarchy, or even by all Congress ministers. Maulana Azad, an important Congress leader, pointed out in 1937 that members of the Congress were not allowed to join the League, yet Congressmen were active in the Hindu Mahasabha– at least in the Central Provinces (present-day Madhya Pradesh). Only in December 1938 did the Congress Working Committee declare that Congress members could not be members of the Mahasabha. Incidentally, this was also the period when the Hindu Mahasabha and the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) were gaining strength. The latter spread from its Nagpur base to the United Provinces, the Punjab, and other parts of the country in the 1930s. By 1940, the RSS had over 100,000 trained and highly disciplined cadres pledged to an ideology of Hindu nationalism, convinced that India was a land of the Hindus.

The Pakistan demand was formalised gradually. On 23 March 1940, the League moved a resolution demanding a measure of autonomy for the Muslim- majority areas of the subcontinent. This ambiguous resolution never mentioned partition or Pakistan. In fact Sikandar Hayat Khan, Punjab Premier and leader of the Unionist Party, who had drafted the resolution, declared in a Punjab assembly speech on 1 March 1941 that he was opposed to a Pakistan that would mean “Muslim Raj here and Hindu Raj elsewhere ... If Pakistan means unalloyed Muslim Raj in the Punjab then I will have nothing to do with it.” He reiterated his plea for a loose (united), confederation with considerable autonomy for the confederating units.

The origins of the Pakistan demand have also been traced back to the Urdu poet Mohammad Iqbal, the writer of “Sare Jahan Se Achha Hindustan Hamara”. In his presidential address to the Muslim League in 1930, the poet spoke of a need for a “North- West Indian Muslim state”. Iqbal, however, was not visualising the emergence of a new country in that speech but a reorganisation of Muslim-majority areas in north-western India into an autonomous unit within a single, loosely structured Indian federation.

We have seen that the League itself was vague about its demand in 1940. There was a very short time – just seven years – between the first formal articulation of the demand for a measure of autonomy for the Muslim-majority areas of the subcontinent and Partition. No one knew what the creation of Pakistan meant, and how it might shape people’s lives in the future. Many who migrated from their homelands in 1947 thought they would return as soon as peace prevailed again.

Initially even Muslim leaders did not seriously raise the demand for Pakistan as a sovereign state. In the beginning Jinnah himself may have seen the Pakistan idea as a bargaining counter, useful for blocking possible British concessions to the Congress and gaining additional favours for the Muslims. The pressure of the Second World War on the British delayed negotiations for independence for some time. Nonetheless, it was the massive Quit India Movement which started in 1942, and persisted despite intense repression, that brought the British Raj to its knees and compelled its officials to open a dialogue with Indian parties regarding a possible transfer of power.

In March 1946 the British Cabinet sent a three- member mission to Delhi to examine the League’s demand and to suggest a suitable political framework for a free India. The Cabinet Mission toured the country for three months and recommended a loose three-tier confederation. India was to remain united. It was to have a weak central government controlling only foreign affairs, defence and communications with the existing provincial assemblies being grouped into three sections while electing the constituent assembly: Section A for the Hindu- majority provinces, and Sections B and C for the Muslim-majority provinces of the north-west and the north-east (including Assam) respectively. The sections or groups of provinces would comprise various regional units. They would have the power to set up intermediate-level executives and legislatures of their own.


What is art? Art is the skillful and personal application of existing  knowledge to achieve desired  results. It can be acquired through study, observation and experience. Since art is concerned with personal  application of knowledge some kind of ingenuity and creativity is required  to practice the basic principles learnt. The basic features of an art are  as follows:

(i) Existence of theoretical knowledge: Art presupposes the  existence of certain theoretical  knowledge. Experts in their respective areas have derived  certain basic principles which are applicable to a particular form of art. For example, literature on dancing, public speaking, acting or music is  widely recognised.

(ii) Personalised application: The use of this basic knowledge varies from individual to individual.  Art, therefore, is a very personalised concept. For example, two dancers, two speakers, two actors, or two writers will always differ in demonstrating their art.

(iii) Based on practice and creativity: All art is practical. Art involves the creative practice of existing theoretical knowledge. We know that all music is based on seven basic notes. However, what makes the composition of a musician unique or different is his use of these notes in a creative manner that is entirely his own interpretation.

Management can be said to be an art since it satisfies the following criteria:

(i) A successful manager practices the art of management in the day-to-day job of managing an enterprise based on study, observation and experience. There is a lot of literature available in various areas of management like marketing, finance and human resources which the manager has to specialise in. There is existence of theoretical knowledge.

(ii) There are various theories of management, as propounded by many management thinkers, which prescribe certain universal principles. A manager applies these scientific methods and body of knowledge to a given situation, an issue or a problem, in his own unique manner. A good manager works through a combination of practice, creativity, imagination, initiative and innovation. A manager achieves perfection after long practice. Students of management also apply these principles differently depending on how creative they are.

(iii) A manager applies this acquired knowledge in a personalised and skillful manner in the light of the realities of a given situation. He is involved in the activities of the organisation, studies critical situations and formulates his own theories for use in a given situation. This gives rise to different styles of management.

The best managers are committed and dedicated individuals; highly trained and educated, with personal qualities such as ambition, selfmotivation, creativity and imagination, a desire for development of the self and the organisation they belong to. All management practices are based on the same set of principles; what distinguishes a successful manager from a less successful one is the ability to put these principles into practice.

Science is a systematised body of knowledge that explains certain general truths or the operation of  general laws. Based on the above features, we can say that management has some characteristics of science.

(i) Management has a systematised body of knowledge. It has its own theory and principles that have developed over a period of time, but it also draws on other disciplines such as Economics, Sociology, Psychology and Mathematics. Like all other organised activity, management has its own vocabulary of terms and concepts. For example, all of us discuss sports like cricket and soccer using a common vocabulary. The players also use these terms to communicate with each other.


Discipline is the obedience to organisational rules and employment agreement which are necessary for the working of the organisation. According to Fayol, discipline requires good superiors at all levels, clear and fair agreements and judicious application of penalties. Suppose management and labour union have entered into an agreement whereby workers have agreed to put in extra hours without any additional payment to revive the company out of loss. In return the management has promised to increase wages of the workers when this mission is accomplished. Here discipline when applied would mean that the workers and management both honour their commitments without any prejudice towards one another.

According to Fayol there should be one and only one boss for every individual employee. If an employee gets orders from two superiors at the same time the principle of unity of command is violated. The principle of unity of command states that each participant in a formal organisation should receive orders from and be responsible to only one superior. Fayol gave a lot of importance to this principle. He felt that if this principle is violated “authority is undermined, discipline is in jeopardy, order disturbed and stability threatened”. The principle resembles military organisation. Dual subordination should be avoided. This is to prevent confusion regarding tasks to be done. Suppose a sales person is asked to clinch a deal with a buyer and is allowed to give 10% discount by the marketing manager. But finance department tells her/him not to offer more than 5% discount. Now there is no unity of command. This can be avoided if there is coordination between various departments.


Taylor was an ardent supporter of standardisation. According to him scientific method should be used to analyse methods of production prevalent under the rule of thumb. The best practices can be kept and further refined to develop a standard which should be followed throughout the organisation. This can be done through work-study techniques which include time study, motion study, fatigue study and method study, and which are discussed further in this chapter. It may be pointed out that even the contemporary techniques of business process including reengineering, kaizen (continuous improvement) and benchmarking are aimed at standardising the work.

Standardisation refers to the process of setting standards for every business activity; it can be standardisation of process, raw material, time, product, machinery, methods or working conditions. These standards are the benchmarks, which must be adhered to during production.

Simplification aims at eliminating superfluous varieties, sizes and dimensions while standardisation implies devising new varieties instead of the existing ones. Simplification aims at eliminating unnecessary diversity of products. It results in savings of cost of labour, machines and tools. It implies reduced inventories, fuller utilisation of equipment and increasing turnover.

Most large companies like Nokia, Toyota and Microsoft, etc. have successfully implemented standardisation and simplification. This is evident from their large share in their respective markets.

Motion study refers to the study of movements like lifting, putting objects, sitting and changing positions, etc., which are undertaken while doing a typical job. Unnecessary movements are sought to be eliminated so that it takes less time to complete the job efficiently. For example, Taylor and his associate Frank Gailberth were able to reduce motions in brick layering from 18 to just 5. Taylor demonstrated that productivity increased to about four times by this process.

On close examination of body motions, for example, it is possible to find out: (i) Motions which are productive (ii) Motions which are incidental (e.g., going to stores) (iii) Motions which are unproductive.Taylor used stopwatches and various symbols and colours to identify different motions. Through motion studies, Taylor was able to design suitable equipment and tools to educate workers on their use. The results achieved by him were truly remarkable.

Time Study determines the standard time taken to perform a well-defined job. Time measuring devices are used for each element of task. The standard time is fixed for the whole of the task by taking several readings. The method of time study will depend upon volume and frequency of the task, the cycle time of the operation and time measurement costs. The objective of time study is to determine the number of workers to be employed; frame suitable incentive schemes and determine labour costs.

For example, on the basis of several observations it is determined that standard time taken by the worker to make one cardboard box is 20 minutes. So in one hour she/he will make 3 boxes. Assuming that a worker has to put in 8 hours of work in a shift and deducting one hour for rest and lunch, it is determined that in 7 hours a worker makes 21 boxes @ 3 boxes per hour. Now this is the standard task a worker has to do. Wages can be decided accordingly.

A person is bound to feel tired physically and mentally if she/he does not rest while working. The rest intervals will help one to regain stamina and work again with the same capacity. This will result in increased productivity. Fatigue study seeks to determine the amount and frequency of rest intervals in completing a task. For example, normally in a plant, work takes place in three shifts of eight hours each. Even in a single shift a worker has to be given some rest interval to take her/his lunch etc. If the work involves heavy manual labour then small pauses have to be frequently given to the worker so that she/he can recharge her/his energy level for optimum contribution.

There can be many causes for fatigue like long working hours, doing unsuitable work, having uncordial relations with the boss or bad working conditions etc. Such hindrances in good performance should be removed.


Scientific management refers to an important stream of one of the earlier schools of thought of management referred to as the ‘Classical’ school. The other two streams belonging to the classical school are Fayol’s Administrative Theory and Max Weber’s Bureaucracy. We will not be describing bureaucracy here. A discussion of Fayol’s principles, however, will follow the discussion of scientific management.

Fredrick Winslow Taylor (March 20,1856 – March 21, 1915) was an American mechanical engineer who sought to improve industrial efficiency. In 1874, he became an apprentice mechanist, learning factory conditions at the grass roots level. He earned a degree in mechanical engineering. He was one of the intellectual leaders of the efficiency movement and was highly influential in reshaping the factory system of production. You must appreciate that he belonged to the era of the industrial revolution characterised by mass production. You must also appreciate that every new development takes some time to be perfected. Taylor’s contribution must be seen in the light of the efforts made to perfect the factory system of production.

Taylor thought that by scientifically analysing work, it would be possible to find ‘one best way’ to do it. He is most remembered for his time and motion studies. He would break a job into its component parts and measure each to the second.

Taylor believed that contemporary management was amateurish and should be studied as a discipline. He also wanted that workers should cooperate with the management and thus there would be no need of trade unions. The best results would come from the partnership between a trained and qualified management and a cooperative and innovative workforce. Each side needed the other.

He is known for coinage of the term ‘Scientific Management’ in his article ‘The Principles of Scientific Management’ published in 1911. After being fired from Bethlehem Steel Company he wrote a book ‘Shop floor’ which sold well. He was selected to be the president of the American Society of Mechanical Engineers (ASME) from 1906 to 1907. He was a professor at Tuck School of Business at Dartmouth College founded in 1900.

In 1884 he became an executive at Midvale Steel Company by demonstrating his leadership abilities. He instructed his fellow workers to work in phases. He joined the Bethlehem Iron Company in 1898, which later became Bethlehem Steel Company. He was originally employed to introduce piece rate wage system. After setting up the wage system, he was given authority and more responsibilities in the company. Using his newfound resources he increased the staff and made Bethlehem a show place for inventive work. Unfortunately, the company was sold to another group and he was discharged.

In the development of classical school of management thought, Fayol’s administrative theory provides an important link. While Taylor succeeded in revolutionising the working of factory shop-floor in terms of devising the best method, fair day’s work, differential piece-rate system and functional foremanship; Henri Fayol explained what amounts to a managers work and what principles should be followed in doing this work. If workers’ efficiency mattered in the factory system, so does the managerial efficiency. Fayol’s contribution must be interpreted in terms of the impact that his writings had and continue to have improvement in managerial efficiencies.

Henri Fayol (1841-1925) was a French management theorist whose theories concerning scientific organisation of labour were widely influential in the beginning of twentieth century. He graduated from the mining academy of St. Etienne in 1860 in mining engineering. The 19 year old engineer started at the mining company ‘Compagnie de commentary-FourchambeanDecazeville, ultimately acting as its managing director from 1888 to 1918.

His theories deal with organisation of production in the context of a competitive enterprise that has to control its production costs. Fayol was the first to identify four functions of management – Planning, Organising, Directing and Controlling although his version was a bit different – Plan, Organise, Command, Coordinate and Control. According to Fayol, all activities of an industrial undertaking could be divided into: Technical; Commercial; Financial; Security; Accounting and Managerial. He also suggested that qualities a manager must possess should be — Physical, Moral, Education, Knowledge and experience. He believed that the number of management principles that might help to improve an organisation’s operation is potentially limitless.

Based largely on his own experience, he developed his concept of administration. The 14 principles of management propounded by him were discussed in detail in his book published in 1917, ‘Administration industrielle et generale’. It was published in English as ‘General and Industrial Management’ in 1949 and is widely considered a foundational work in classical management theory. For his contribution he is also known as the ‘Father of General Management’.


We have seen how planning is essential for business organisations. It is difficult to manage operations without formal planning. It is important for an organisation to move towards achieving goals. But we have often seen in our daily lives according to plan. Unforeseen events and changes, rise in costs and prices, environmental changes, government interventions, legal regulations, all affect our business plans. Plans then need to be modified. If we cannot adhere to our plans, then why do we plan at all? This is what we need to analyse. The major limitations of planning are given below:

(i) Planning leads to rigidity: In an organisation, a well-defined plan is drawn up with specific goals to be achieved within a specific time frame. These plans then decide the future course of action and managers may not be in a position to change it. This kind of rigidity in plans may create difficulty. Managers need to be given some flexibility to be able to cope with the changed circumstances. Following a pre-decided plan,when circumstances have changed, may not turn out to be in the organisations interest.

(ii) Planning may not work in a dynamic environment: The business environment is dynamic, nothing is constant. The environment consists of a number of dimensions, economic, political, physical, legal and social dimensions. The organisation has to constantly adapt itself to changes. It becomes difficult to accurately assess future trends in the environment if economic policies are modified or political conditions in the country are not stable or there is a natural calamity. Competition in the market can also upset financial plans, sales targets may have to be revised and, accordingly, cash budgets also need to be modified since they are based on sales figures. Planning cannot foresee everything and thus, there may be obstacles to effective planning.

(iii) Planning reduces creativity: Planning is an activity which is done by the top management. Usually the rest of the members just implements these plans. As a consequence, middle management and other decision makers are neither allowed to deviate from plans nor are they permitted to act on their own. Thus, much of the initiative or creativity inherent in them also gets lost or reduced. Most of the time, employees do not even attempt to formulate plans. They only carry out orders. Thus, planning in a way reduces creativity since people tend to think along the same lines as others. There is nothing new or innovative.

(iv) Planning involves huge costs: When plans are drawn up huge costs are involved in their formulation. These may be in terms of time and money for example, checking accuracy of facts may involve lot of time. Detailed plans require scientific calculations to ascertain facts and figures. The costs incurred sometimes may not justify the benefits derived from the plans. There are a number of incidental costs as well, like expenses on boardroom meetings, discussions with professional experts and preliminary investigations to find out the viability of the plan.

(v) Planning is a time-consuming process: Sometimes plans to be drawn up take so much of time that there is not much time left for their implementation.

(vi) Planning does not guarantee success: The success of an enterprise is possible only when plans are properly drawn up and implemented. Any plan needs to be translated into action or it becomes meaningless. Managers have a tendency to rely on previously tried and tested successful plans. It is not always true that just because a plan has worked before it will work again. Besides, there are so many other unknown factors to be considered. This kind of complacency and false sense of security may actually lead to failure instead of success. However, despite its limitations, planning is not a useless exercise. It is a tool to be used with caution. It provides a base for analysing future courses of action. But, it is not a solution to all problems.


We have seen how planning is essential for business organisations. It is difficult to manage operations without formal planning. It is important for an organisation to move towards achieving goals. But we have often seen in our daily lives also, that things do not always go according to plan. Unforeseen events and changes, rise in costs and prices, environmental changes, government interventions, legal regulations, all affect our business plans. Plans then need to be modified. If we cannot adhere to our plans, then why do we plan at all? This is what we need to analyse.

When plans are drawn up huge costs are involved in their formulation. These may be in terms of time and money for example, checking accuracy of facts may involve lot of time. Detailed plans require scientific calculations to ascertain facts and figures. The costs incurred sometimes may not justify the benefits derived from the plans. There are a number of incidental costs as well, like expenses on boardroom meetings, discussions with professional experts and preliminary investigations to find out the viability of the plan.

The success of an enterprise is possible only when plans are properly drawn up and implemented. Any plan needs to be translated into action or it becomes meaningless. Managers have a tendency to rely on previously tried and tested successful plans. It is not always true that just because a plan has worked before it will work again. Besides, there are so many other unknown factors to be considered. This kind of complacency and false sense of security may actually lead However, despite its limitations, planning is not a useless exercise. It is a tool to be used with caution. It provides a base for analysing future courses of action. But, it is not a solution to all problems.

By stating in advance how work is to be done planning provides direction for action. Planning ensures that the goals or objectives are clearly stated so that they act as a guide for deciding what action should be taken and in which direction. If goals are well defined, employees are aware of what the organisation has to do and what they must do to achieve those goals. Departments and individuals in the organisation are able to work in coordination. If there was no planning, employees would be working in different directions and the organisation would not be able to achieve its desired goals.

Planning is an activity which enables a manager to look ahead and anticipate changes. By deciding in advance the tasks to be performed, planning shows the way to deal with changes and uncertain events. Changes or events cannot be eliminated but they can be anticipated and managerial responses to them can be developed.

Planning serves as the basis of coordinating the activities and efforts of different divisions, departments and individuals. It helps in avoiding confusion and misunderstanding. Since planning ensures clarity in thought and action, work is carried on smoothly without interruptions. Useless and redundant activities are minimised or eliminated. It is easier to detect inefficiencies and take corrective measures to deal with them.

Since planning is the first function of management, new ideas can take the shape of concrete plans. It is the most challenging activity for the management as it guides all future actions leading to growth and prosperity of the business.

Planning helps the manager to look into the future and make a choice from amongst various alternative courses of action. The manager has to evaluate each alternative and select the most viable proposition. Planning involves setting targets and predicting future conditions, thus helping in taking rational decisions.

Planning involves setting of goals. The entire managerial process is concerned with accomplishing predetermined goals through planning, organising, staffing, directing and controlling. Planning provides the goals or standards against which actual performance is measured. By comparing actual performance with some standard, managers can know whether they have actually been able to attain the goals. If there is any deviation it can be corrected. Therefore, we can say that planning is a prerequisite for controlling. If there were no goals and standards, then finding deviations which are a part of controlling would not be possible. The nature of corrective action required depends upon the extent of deviations from the standard. Therefore, planning provides the basis of control.


Organising involves a series of steps that need to be taken in order to achieve the desired goal. Let us try and understand how organising is carried out with the help of an example.

Suppose twelve students work for the school library in the summer vacations. One afternoon they are told to unload a shipment of new releases, stock the bookshelves, and then dispose of all waste (packaging, paper etc). If all the students decide to do it in their own way, it will result in mass confusion. However, if one student supervises the work by grouping students, dividing the work, assigning each group their quota and developing reporting relationships among them, the job will be done faster and in a better manner.From the above description, the following steps emerge in the process of organising:

(i) Identification and division of work: The first step in the process of organising involves identifying and dividing the work that has to be done in accordance with previously determined plans. The work is divided into manageable activities so that duplication can be avoided and the burden of work can be shared among the employees.

(ii) Departmentalisation: Once work has been divided into small and manageable activities then those activities which are similar in nature are grouped together. Such sets facilitate specialisation. This grouping process is called departmentalisation. Departments can be created using several criteria as a basis. Examples of some of the most popularly used basis are territory (north, south, west, etc.) and products (appliances, clothes, cosmetics etc).

(iii) Assignment of duties: It is necessary to define the work of different job positions and accordingly allocate work to various employees. Once departments have been formed, each of them is placed under the charge of an individual. Jobs are then allocated to the members of each department in accordance to their skills and competencies. It is essential for effective performance that a proper match is made between the nature of a job and the ability of an individual. The work must be assigned to those who are best fitted to perform it well.

(iv) Establishing authority and reporting relationships: Merely allocating work is not enough. Each individual should also know who he has to take orders from and to whom he is accountable. The establishment of such clear relationships helps to create a hierarchal structure and helps in coordination amongst various departments.

Performance of the organising function can pave the way for a smooth transition of the enterprise in accordance with the dynamic business environment. The significance of the organising function mainly arises from the fact that it helps in the survival and growth of an enterprise and equips it to meet various challenges. In order for any business enterprise to perform tasks and successfully meet goals, the organising function must be properly performed. The following points highlight the crucial role that organising plays in any business enterprise:

(i) Benefits of specialisation: Organising leads to a systematic allocation of jobs amongst the work force. This reduces the workload as well as enhances productivity because of the specific workers performing a specific job on a regular basis. Repetitive performance of a particular task allows a worker to gain experience in that area and leads to specialisation.

(ii) Clarity in working relationships: The establishment of working relationships clarifies lines of communication and specifies who is to report to whom. This removes ambiguity in transfer of information and instructions. It helps in creating a hierarchical order thereby enabling the fixation of responsibility and specification of the extent of authority to be exercised by an individual.

(iii) Optimum utilisation of resources: Organising leads to the proper usage of all material, financial and human resources. The proper assignment of jobs avoids overlapping of work and also makes possible the best use of resources. Avoidance of duplication of work helps in preventing confusion and minimising the wastage of resources and efforts.

 (iv) Adaptation to change: The process of organising allows a business enterprise to accommodate changes in the business environment. It allows the organisation structure to be suitably modified and the revision of inter-relationships amongst managerial levels to pave the way for a smooth transition. It also provides much needed stability to the enterprise as it can then continue to survive and grow inspite of changes.


A manager, no matter how capable he is, cannot manage to do every task on his own. The volume of work makes it impractical for him to handle it all by himself. As a consequence, if he desires to meet the organisational goals, focus on objectives and ensure that all work is accomplished, he must delegate authority.

Delegation refers to the downward transfer of authority from a superior to a subordinate. It is a pre-requisite to the efficient functioning of an organisation because it enables a manager to use his time on high priority activities. It also satisfies the subordinate’s need for recognition and provides them with opportunities to develop and exercise initiative.

Delegation helps a manager to extend his area of operations as without it, his activities would be restricted to only what he himself can do. However, delegation does not mean abdication. The manager shall still be accountable for the performance of the assigned tasks.

Moreover, the authority granted to a subordinate can be taken back and redelegated to another person. Thus, irrespective of the extent of delegated authority ,the manager shall still be accountable to the same extent as before delegation.

According to Louis Allen, delegation is the entrustment of responsibility and authority to another and the creation of accountability for performance.A detailed analysis of Louis Allen’s definition brings to light the following essential elements of delegation:

(i) Authority: Authority refers to the right of an individual to command his subordinates and to take action within the scope of his position. The concept of authority arises from the established scalar chain which links the various job positions and levels of an organisation. Authority also refers to the right to take decisions inherent in a managerial position to tell people what to do and expect them to do it.

In the formal organisation authority originates by virtue of an individual’s position and the extent of authority is highest at the top management levels and reduces successively as we go down the corporate ladder. Thus, authority flows from top to bottom, i.e., the superior has authority over
the subordinate.

Authority relationships helps to maintain order in the organisation by giving the managers the right to exact obedience and give directions to the workforce under them.

Authority determines the superior subordinate relationship wherein the superior communicates his decision to the subordinate, expecting compliance from him and the subordinate executes the decision as per the guidelines of the superior. The extent to which a superior can exact compliance also depends on the personality of the superior.

It must be noted that authority is restricted by laws and the rules and regulation of the organisation, which limit its scope. However, as we go higher up in the management hierarchy, the scope of authority increases.

(ii) Responsibility: Responsibility is the obligation of a subordinate to properly perform the assigned duty. It arises from a superior–subordinate relationship because the subordinate is bound to perform the duty assigned to him by his superior. Thus, responsibility flows upwards, i.e., a subordinate will always be responsible to his superior.

An important consideration to be kept in view with respect to both authority and responsibility is that when an employee is given responsibility for a job he must also be given the degree of authority necessary to carry it out. Thus, for effective delegation the authority granted must be commensurate with the assigned responsibility. If authority granted is more than responsibility, it may lead to misuse of authority, and if responsibility assigned is more than authority it may make a person ineffective.

(iii) Accountability: Delegation of authority, undoubtedly empowers an employee to act for his superior but the superior would still be accountable for the outcome:

Accountability implies being answerable for the final outcome. Once authority has been delegated and responsibility accepted, one cannot deny accountability. It cannot be delegated and flows upwards, i.e., a subordinate will be accountable to a superior for satisfactory performance of work. It indicates that the manager has to ensure the proper discharge of duties by his subordinates. It is generally enforced through regular feedback on the extent of work accomplished. The subordinate will be expected to explain the consequences of his actions or omissions.