Political Decline at its Zenith in North India Yet Aspirations Are Soaring.
Gustakhi Maaf Haryana-Pawan Kumar Bansal
By our enlightened reader Dr Ranbir Singh Phaugat.Political Decline at its Zenith in North India-
Yet Aspirations Are Soaring.
In yesterday’s issue—Saturday, April 25, 2026—of The Tribune, a daily English-language newspaper published from Chandigarh, Editor-in-Chief Mrs. Jyoti Malhotra offered historical observations regarding shifts in governance, the attitudes of rulers, and the destiny of the millions of Indians inhabiting the region stretching from Lahore to Murshidabad. She did so through the lens of historical episodes concerning Bengal and Punjab in her published article titled ‘From Panipat to Bengal.’ The immediate context for this discussion is the ongoing election scenario in Bengal and the recent defection of seven MPs from the ‘AAP’ party in Punjab to join the BJP. The duty of a journalist is to take note of such changes and to analyze them only after observing their impact on the times, the nation, and the lives of the governed populace. These changes, in myriad ways, profoundly affect the lives of the people. Speaking personally, I have no fondness for the ‘AAP’ party or its Chief Minister, Bhagwant Mann; nor do I care for Mamata Banerjee or her party, the Trinamool Congress. On one side stands a man whom fate has thrust into a high seat of power—a man who has utterly wrecked the state’s finances. On the other stands a brazen and autocratic woman who has turned Bengal into her personal fiefdom, stifling its progress and sowing the seeds of discord. She thrives on conflict and takes great delight in humiliating everyone around her. Situated between Punjab and Bengal lie Haryana, Uttar Pradesh, and Bihar; among these, I perceive a commendable standard of governance in Uttar Pradesh—largely thanks to ‘Yogi-ji’—whereas Haryana and Bihar have plunged into the abyss of decline. While Bihar has witnessed no progress over the last fifty years—with the state consistently standing before the Central Government like a beggar—the political transitions that have occurred in Haryana since the conclusion of Chaudhary Bansi Lal’s first tenure have been characterized by a host of ills. These include malice, nepotism, indifference toward talent, not merely a disregard for but an outright humiliation of the Jat community, growing governmental hypocrisy regarding agriculture, a drastic decline in the sense of responsibility among administrative officials, and an unchecked surge in criminal incidents. The leaders here—those involved in the governing politics—are driven by a singular desire: to amass wealth. The rate at which justice is delayed, and the inefficiency of administrative offices has increased significantly. For Haryana’s leaders, two issues have always remained paramount: property and power.
Newspapers serve, in a sense, as mirrors of daily history; through articles that analyze the repercussions of unfolding events, they have consistently endeavored to keep the public informed and vigilant. The Tribune, in particular, has discharged this responsibility with exemplary competence. However, neither the veteran nor the contemporary Hindi-language newspapers appear to possess the mettle required to publish content that remains critical of the political establishment. A primary reason for this lies in the acute lack of courage and vision among Hindi journalists, coupled with a tendency to merely mimic their English-language counterparts. Hindi news reports and articles have consistently lacked incisiveness. It is not that matters can inherently be articulated with greater sharpness or a more critical edge in English; rather, these deficiencies became glaringly apparent whenever I examined Hindi journalistic content through the lens of the English language—or, indeed, when I translated the substance of such articles into English. The Battle of Panipat in 1526 and the Battle of Plassey in Bengal in 1757—fought between Lord Clive and the Nawab—were two monumental events. The former laid the foundation for Mughal rule in India; 231 years later—after ten generations of families had passed—the latter marked the inception of British rule. Following these two major political and administrative shifts, which brought about profound changes in the lives of Indians, we can now observe the political transformations that have taken place since 1970. Ms. Jyoti Malhotra has conveyed her perspective on this matter with subtle yet striking effectiveness in her aforementioned article.
In this context, Saqib Salim (a retired Joint Secretary to the Government of India) has penned a brilliant article on Facebook—a piece that warrants reading to truly understand why Babur ultimately emerged victorious. The administrative modalities that Nehru laid as the foundation for governance in India were, by and large, modeled upon the British-Indian governmental structure—though not necessarily upon its pattern of governance. Read below to discover what Mr. Saqib has to say and to grasp the significance of his observations; for the Battle of Panipat in 1526 was fought on April 21st—a date that occurred just five days ago—and which now marks the passage of 500 years and five days since that historic clash. How Panipat itself has transformed over this vast span of time is a separate matter entirely; however, today, the only surviving relic of those bygone days is the Babri Masjid. There also existed a tomb dedicated to Ibrahim Lodi, which was subsequently reconstructed during the British era in the form of a raised platform (chabutra). We held no affection for Ibrahim Lodi, nor do we for the rulers of the present day; yet, the instruments for acquiring political power remain manifold—in the past, it was brute force; today, it is votes and wealth. In such a scenario, even the media is unable to present an accurate picture of what constitutes the political expressions of the people of India—spanning from Amritsar all the way to the Assam border in Bengal, and now including a significant number of Muslims—or how these expressions actually manifest; for these can truly be grasped only by listening to the people speak in their own voices. Across Bengal, Bihar, Uttar Pradesh, Uttarakhand, Haryana, and Punjab—barring one or two brief interludes—I have observed neither the demonstration of a progressive outlook regarding governance nor any evidence of a scientific temperament. The prevailing approach has remained feudalistic and arrogant, while the citizenry has been reduced to a state of weakness and supplication, much like the subjects of the Sultanate era. Today, it is financial might and brute force that reign supreme. In this regard, there is no substantive difference between the Indian rulers of the post-colonial era and their predecessors—the Sultans, the Mughals, and the British.
The First Battle of Panipat:
Babur How did he establish the Mughal Empire by winning a historic battle? In this battle, the size of his army was less than one-tenth that of the enemy forces. “Throughout all his campaigns and conflicts, Babur was fearless and unconcerned by danger. The impassioned speeches he delivered to his troops were not mere bravado, but the genuine sentiments of a man who had envisioned a magnificent future for himself—a man who possessed the energy and courage to transform his dream into reality. That ‘Tiger’ invariably stood at the very forefront of the battlefield during decisive moments.”
There are moments in history when history itself is forged, and the morning of April 21, 1526, was precisely one such moment. On that Friday, Zahir-ud-din Muhammad Babur—the ruler of Kabul, Balkh, and Samarkand—decisively defeated the Sultan of Delhi, Ibrahim Lodi, at Panipat. Thus was laid the foundation of the Mughal Empire in India—an empire that would eventually evolve into one of the most powerful empires the world has ever known.
Why do I term this a watershed event? Why is the First Battle of Panipat of such immense significance? Why did a 20th-century American military officer refer to Babur as the ‘Tiger’?
What transpired at Panipat on April 21, 1526, stands as one of the greatest military victories ever achieved by a vastly outnumbered army against a massive and formidable force—a victory that fundamentally altered the very course of history. Babur had set out from what is present-day Afghanistan on November 17, 1525, to aid the rebel Daulat Khan; it was Daulat Khan, in fact, who had summoned Babur to assist him in his struggle against the Sultan of Delhi, Ibrahim Lodi. However, Babur’s true ambition was to seize control of Delhi—and, by extension, a vast expanse of the Indian subcontinent. According to the Baburnama, he crossed the Indus River with a total force of twelve thousand soldiers. Of these twelve thousand men, more than sixty percent were not, in reality, combat troops; Thus, his effective combat strength amounted to only about seven to eight thousand soldiers.
By the last week of February 1526, Ibrahim Lodi had begun to sense the looming threat. He ordered his forces to march out to intercept Babur’s army; Babur’s troops were advancing toward Delhi, conquering every city that lay in their path. On February 26, Humayun made a spectacular debut as a military commander. He led a successful campaign against Hamid Khan, the military collector of Hisar, and captured the city. This proved to be the final nail in the coffin for Ibrahim Lodi. Now, Ibrahim Lodi had no choice but to take action.
On March 13, Babur received word that Ibrahim Lodi was marching from Delhi to confront him. He pitched his camp near Sarsawa, along the banks of the Yamuna River. Meanwhile, his soldiers began launching raids against Lodi’s forces, and on April 2, they ambushed and captured Hatim Khan Lodi. Babur possessed far fewer soldiers compared to Lodi. While he commanded fewer than 10,000 troops, Lodi’s army numbered approximately 100,000. To win this unequal battle, Babur required a brilliant strategy. In his memoirs, Babur wrote: “At our next encampment, orders were issued that every man in the army should gather carts according to his means. Seven hundred carts (araba) were brought in. Ustad Ali Quli was instructed to link these carts together in the Ottoman (Turkish) style—though using ropes of raw hide instead of chains—and to place five or six mantelets (wooden screens) between every two carts, behind which musketeers could stand and fire. To assemble all the necessary equipment, we spent another five or six days at that encampment. Once everything was ready, all the Begs and those brave soldiers experienced in military affairs were summoned to a general council. After deliberation, the following decision was reached:— Ahead lies the city of Panipat, with its densely populated houses and suburbs. This will secure one of our flanks; our remaining flanks will be protected by the carts and mantelets, behind which our infantry and musketeers will be positioned. With all these arrangements settled, we advanced, halted for a night en route, and on Thursday—the final day (the 29th) of the second Jumada (April 13)—we arrived at Panipat.”
Babur realized that the frontage of his army was far shorter than anticipated. To achieve victory against a larger force, it was imperative that he employ his artillery and cavalry in concert, executing a combined-arms strategy. To this end, it was essential that Babur’s flanking cavalry be capable of wheeling around to attack the flanks of the enemy’s battle line. This implied that the frontage of his own army needed to be equal to, or greater than, that of the enemy’s army.
To resolve this tactical dilemma, Babur advanced toward Panipat—at that time, a large and densely populated city. By anchoring the right flank of his army against the city’s buildings and outskirts, he naturally secured it. To fortify the left flank, a trench was dug, and a defensive barrier (abatis) was constructed using felled tree branches. These measures relieved his small army of the necessity to actively defend both flanks.
Despite this massive numerical disparity—a ratio of 1:10—Babur remained entirely confident in his military strategy and in the weaknesses of Ibrahim Lodi. He wrote: “It was estimated that the enemy force arrayed against us numbered 100,000 soldiers; Ibrahim and his nobles possessed approximately 1,000 elephants. He held the treasury accumulated by his two predecessors. In Hindustan, whenever a major undertaking of this magnitude is to be executed…”Thus, there exists a custom of paying mercenary soldiers—known as ‘Bed-Hindi.’ Had the thought of doing so ever occurred to Ibrahim, he might perhaps have…”
During the Sultanate era in India, twenty-seven generations lived out their lives; during the Mughal reign, twenty; and under British rule, approximately nine generations passed. Since independence, we have now entered the fourth or fifth generation. A comprehensive understanding of the political sentiments held by the people across these three epochs of rule—as well as in the post-independence period—must be gleaned from and interpreted through a wide array of historical documents; however, the single domain in which the most precipitous decline has been recorded is the realm of politics in independent India.