Meeting a New Constantine

Abstract

This chapter describes and analyses the first Jesuit mission to the Mughal court (1580–1583) and the early diplomatic contacts between the Mughal Empire and the Portuguese Estado da Índia. This chapter will focus on the evolution of the top-down strategy of the Jesuit missionaries, and the problems that this approach posed to the success of the missionaries.

On 13 December 1572, after capturing Ahmedabad and forcing the abdication of Sultan Muzaffar Shah III, the Mughal emperor, Jalal-ud-Din Muhammad Akbar, sent a firman to the captain of the Portuguese fort of Diu, Aires Teles. The firman contained two requests. The first was that like elsewhere in Gujarat, the khutba should be read at the Diu mosques in the name of Akbar. The other request made by Akbar was that Mughal currency should also be adopted in the city. Although these requests were an obvious attempt to impose symbols of Mughal sovereignty on a territory controlled by another power, Aires Teles adopted a pragmatic attitude and advised the viceroy at Goa to accept the demands made by Akbar. In his letter to the viceroy, Aires Teles mentioned that after consulting the Muslim community of Diu, he concluded that reading the khutba in Akbar’s name was a mere formality, a ritual gesture that confirmed that the Mughal emperor had replaced the sultan of Gujarat. Regarding the adoption of Mughal currency, the captain of Diu believed that it would be advantageous to the city. Mughal silver and gold coins were of a much higher quality than the coins of the sultanate of Gujarat that were circulating, which were frequently false.¹

The proximity of Mughal troops to the Portuguese cities of Daman, Diu and Bassein caused some apprehension in Goa. Fears of a possible Mughal invasion prompted Viceroy D. António de Noronha to travel to Daman, where he met a Mughal envoy with all the required solemnity and grandeur. This contact paved the way to a Portuguese legation led by António Cabral, who was received by Akbar in Surat in March 1573.² The talks between both sides resulted in a firman issued on 18 March 1573, which confirmed the ‘peace and friendship’ between Portuguese and Mughals. The document was extremely favourable to the Estado da Índia: it confirmed Portuguese control over Daman and promised Mughal collaboration in the Portuguese activities against the Malabar pirates and merchants.³ As a gesture of goodwill, the Portuguese granted an annual free cartaz to the Mughal emperor, making ships exempt from duties from Surat to Mecca.⁴ The Mughal acceptance of the cartaz system could be therefore interpreted as a tacit recognition by Akbar of the Portuguese monopoly of the sea trade of Gujarat and Hindustan, a position that, although pragmatic, damaged the emperor’s dignity and claims to universal rule.⁵

From a Mughal perspective, the firman allowed Akbar to temporise with the Portuguese as well as safeguard the imperial patronage of the hajj. It is interesting that the Akbarnama omits the concession of an annual free cartaz to the Mughal emperor and prefers to present the meeting between Akbar and the Portuguese ambassador as an encounter of a minor potentate with a great imperial power. Abu’l Fazl included António Cabral’s meeting with Akbar in the Akbarnama as an illustrative episode of the successful extension of Mughal imperial authority over the different communities established in Gujarat. Abu’l Fazl describes the meeting as an act of subservience of ‘a large number of Christians came from the port of Goa and its neighbourhood to the foot of the sublime throne and [who] were rewarded by the bliss of an interview (mulazamat)’.⁶ Cabral and his entourage performed the kornish, a ceremonial greeting in which the saluter placed the palm of his right hand on his forehead and then bowed his head to express his deference and willingness to perform any service for the emperor. After performing their ritual submission to the emperor, the Portuguese delegation presented ‘many of the rarities of their country’ to a pleased Akbar. Indeed, the account included in the Akbarnama suggests that Cabral was sent to confirm the Estado’s recognition of its subaltern position vis-à-vis the Mughal polity. As Abu’l Fazl noted, the inquiries made by Akbar about ‘the wonders of Portugal and the manners and customs of Europe’ were both instigated by his ‘desire of knowledge’ and part of a strategy that sought to express Mughal goodwill towards Goa as a ‘means of civilising this savage race’.⁷ In other words, the diplomatic contacts between Akbar and the Estado da Índia sought to find a solution that would integrate the Portuguese into the new Pax Mogolica established in Gujarat.

For the Estado da Índia, Cabral’s embassy was an important manoeuvre to safeguard Portuguese commercial interests and its naval monopoly in Gujarat. The Portuguese chronicler Diogo do Couto described the embassy as an important diplomatic manouvre that sought to preserve the Estado’s ports in the region, Daman and Diu, and confirm the privileges enjoyed by Portuguese merchants in Gujarat. Couto included a full translation of the firman signed by Akbar in the Década Nona da Ásia and stated that ‘some believed that the Estado was discredited by this firman due to the great presumption used by this barbarian [Akbar], and there were doubts if it should be accepted or not, or if it should be adopted a strategy of dissimulation’.⁸ Besides securing the Estado’s interests in Gujarat, Cabral’s embassy also sought to assess the strategic aims and military capacity of the Mughal emperor. This intention was duly noted by Abu’l Fazl, who mentioned that when the Portuguese embassy ‘saw the majesty of the imperial power, and had become cognisant of the large size of the army, and of the extent of the siege-train, they represented themselves as ambassadors and performed the kornish’.⁹

Two years after his rendezvous with António Cabral, Akbar sent an embassy to Goa. The Akbarnama presents the embassy led by Haji Habibullah as a continuation of the contacts initiated by the Portuguese in Surat which confirmed the status of ‘governors of the European ports’ as ‘shakers of the chain of supplication’. If Abu’l Fazl described Haji Habibullah’s embassy as part of a process of Portuguese subordination to Mughal sovereignty, Diogo do Couto described the first Mughal embassy to visit Goa as a mere visit of courtesy that aimed to maintain the communication between the Estado and Akbar. The Portuguese authorities, however, considered the presence of Haji Habibullah as a sensitive matter of state. Viceroy D. António de Noronha sought to impress the Mughal ambassador with elaborate and lavish displays of Portuguese hospitality and wealth. A group of ‘old and wealthy noblemen’ (alguns Fidalgos velhos e ricos) offered a series of sumptuous banquets ‘with all the delights that India could offer’ to the ambassador.¹⁰ According to Diogo do Couto, each of these banquets had an estimated cost of 1,000 cruzados.

Besides the apparent intention to force the Portuguese authorities to recognise their subaltern position vis-à-vis the Mughal polity, the embassy had another aim: to acquire European commodities for the emperor’s collection. Impressed by the gifts given by Cabral in 1573, Akbar wished to acquire more ‘curiosities and rarities of the skilled craftsmen of that country’. Haji Habibullah was also accompanied by a group of ‘clever craftsmen’ of Mughal origin who would learn European techniques in Goa and introduced them at the Mughal court.¹¹ Mughal emissaries dispatched to foreign courts often received similar instructions, but the frequent references made in the Akbarnama to the commodities and technical novelties of the firangis suggest that Akbar wanted to have access to the same technological apparatus as the Estado.

Haji Habibullah returned to Fatehpur in 1577 and received the honour of a well-choreographed imperial audience conceived as a symbolic demonstration of the universal rule of the Mughal emperor, which included a parade of ‘a large number of persons dressed up as Christians and playing European drums and clarions’ and an exhibition of ‘the choice articles of that territory [Goa]’.¹² The emperor was particularly pleased with the newly acquired skills of the Mughal craftsmen who went to Goa to learn European techniques, but it was the Goan musicians brought by the ambassador that caught the attention of Akbar and his courtiers. ‘The musicians of that territory’, wrote Abu’l Fazl, ‘breathed fascination with the instruments of their country, especially with the organ’. The music from Goa was a complete novelty at the Mughal court, a sensorial experience in which ‘ear and eye were delighted, and so was the mind’.¹³ In his Muntakhabu’t-Tawarikh, Badaoni also recorded the impact caused by the organ brought from Goa, ‘one of the wonders of creation’. Akbar was so impressed with the organ that ‘the Europeans kept coming at every moment in red and yellow colours, and went from one extravagance to another’.¹⁴ It is interesting to note that while Abu’l Fazl describes the display of the rarities from Goa and Europe as a triumph of Akbar’s imperial power, a kind of symbolic tribute from the firangi to the Mughal ruler, Badaoni suggests that the impression caused by the organ and other ‘extravangances’ brought by Haji Habibullah exposed a technological gap between the Mughals and the Europeans.

Coinciding with Haji Habibullah’s return from Goa, Akbar had another encounter with a Portuguese official, Pedro Tavares, the captain of Satgaon, one of the informal Portuguese settlements, or bandéis, in the Bay of Bengal. Described by Sebastian Manrique as ‘a fellow from the city of Goa, an important person and well-versed in politics and state matters’,¹⁵ Tavares was a prominent figure of an informal community of Portuguese settlers and merchants who took advantage of the turmoil caused by the Mughal-Afghan conflict in Bengal. Without a solid presence of the Mughal authorities in the region, the merchants of the Portuguese bandéis (a derivation of bandar, the Persian word for port) often escaped Mughal taxation. After Akbar’s successful campaigns, the bandéis were no longer able to maintain their irregular situation and Tavares emerged as a privileged interlocutor with whom the Mughals could negotiate the status of Satgaon and other informal Portuguese settlements. Tavares arrived in Fatehpur Sikri integrated in a retinue from Bengal who went to the Mughal court to pay vassalage to Akbar and present a gift of Bengali rarities.¹⁶ Little is known about the time Tavares spent in Fatehpur Sikri, but he seemed to have manoeuvred successfully at the Mughal court. Francisco de Sousa, in his Oriente Conquistado, presents the Portuguese captain as Akbar’s favourite (valido)¹⁷ and Abu’l Fazl identifies Tavares as Partāb ‘Tār Feringi, ‘one of the officials of the merchants of the ports of Bengal, [who] had the bliss of an audience’ and added that Tavares and his wife, Nashūrna, ‘found favour in the testing eyes of the world-lord [Akbar]’.¹⁸

Pedro Tavares was not the only interlocutor between the bandéis and the Mughals. Two Portuguese Jesuits sent by the bishop of Cochin to the Portuguese settlements in Bengal in 1576, António Vaz and Pedro Dias, caught the attention of the Mughal authorities for their regular efforts to persuade the bandéis to accept Akbar’s fiscal authority. According to Francisco de Sousa, the two Jesuit missionaries refused to confess and absolve the Portuguese merchants who had not paid their taxes. Fearing an eventual punitive reaction from the Mughal authorities towards the bandéis, António Vaz approached Pedro Tavares to negotiate a general pardon with Akbar, which would be obtained in 1579.¹⁹ In a long letter to the Jesuit College of Coimbra reporting the activities of the Province of Goa, including some ‘happy news from the Mughal’, Duarte Sande mentioned that Akbar’s interest in the Jesuits arose after receiving reports that the missionaries advised the Portuguese communities of Bengal to ‘repay the taxes they stole to the king of the land’, and after learning this the emperor considered the Jesuits to be ‘men of justice and reason’.²⁰

During the negotiations with Tavares, Akbar made several inquiries about the Jesuits and the possibility of receiving a group of missionaries at his court to discuss Christianity. Tavares suggested inviting Gil Eanes Pereira, the Jesuit priest responsible for the Satgaon parish. After being contacted by Isma’il Quli Khan, the brother of the governor of Bengal, Husain Quli Beg, Pereira received a firman inviting him to Fatehpur Sikri, where Akbar ‘was looking forward to meet a man of whom everyone had good words’.²¹ In a letter to the bishop of Goa, Henrique Távora, Pereira mentioned that, following a request to bring books on ‘holy things’ to the emperor, he chose an illustrated Vita Christi, which he presented to Isma’il Qulin Khan with ‘great deference’ (muito acatamento) and impressed the Mughal official, who ‘kissed all the images, and put the book on his head’.²² After arriving at Fatehpur, the Jesuit wrote another letter to Henrique Távora reporting his meeting with Akbar. Pereira arrived at the Mughal court escorted by five Mughal horsemen, ‘sent by the king for my guard and service’, and two of his parishioners—an unnamed Portuguese settler described by the Jesuit as ‘a friend of mine’ and João Garcês, an Armenian based in Satgaon who ‘came against his will as an interpreter’ (contra sua vontade pera falar a lingua).²³ Pereira’s account of the treatment and honours given by Akbar to him suggest that he was received more in the manner of a diplomatic agent than a religious figure. Indeed, the Jesuit mentions that the emperor ‘received me with great honour and he is always doing this to me, and in a way that amazes his own people’.²⁴Pereira informed Henrique Távora that he registered all his experiences at the Mughal court in a notebook (caderno), which is now lost, and where the Jesuit noted ‘everything that happened in every day and night’.²⁵

According to Pereira, Akbar summoned him to ‘know through me some things that had confused him’. The emperor was curious about Christianity and asked the Jesuit to explain the fundamental principles of Christian doctrine and the theological differences between Christianity and Islam to him. Pereira initially believed that his presence was related to the negotiations between Tavares and the Mughal authorities concerning the status of the Portuguese bandéis in Bengal, but following his meetings with Akbar he realised that ‘the king is not happy or satisfied with his religion, and one night he had publicly stated [this] to his Muslim priests [cacizes]’.²⁶ The emperor also asked Pereira to teach him Portuguese and write ‘new books’ on Christianity in Persian. Although Pereira wrote a now-lost catechism based on Bartolomé Carranza’s Comentarios sobre el catecismo Cristiano (1558), he advised Akbar to write to Goa requesting ‘scholarly priests who would teach and show him the Holy Scriptures’. The Jesuit believed that he was not sufficiently ‘learned’ to serve Akbar’s religious policy and that his prolonged absence from Satgaon could have damaging effects on the Portuguese community.²⁷

Akbar, as Pereira explained to Távora, ‘wishes to converse with the padres and the Portuguese’. The presence of the vicar of Satgaon at Fatehpur Sikri was thus both an attempt to establish a channel of communication with the Estado da Índia and to obtain new ideological sources for the emperor’s religious policy. Pereira, however, was a low-ranking Jesuit secular priest responsible for a parish in an informal Portuguese settlement and whose utility for both Mughals and Portuguese resided in his capacity to influence the population of Satgaon. Akbar’s overtures towards the Portuguese Crown and the Catholic Church required an official mission approved by the Archbishop of Goa, fully supported by the Estado da Índia, and composed of well-trained missionaries with good connections with the Jesuit and Portuguese authorities.

I

In September 1579, a second Mughal embassy arrived at Goa. Identified by the Portuguese sources as Ebadolá (‘Abdullah), the ambassador carried with him a letter from Emperor Akbar to the viceroy and another to the ‘Chief Fathers of the Order of St Paul’. The two letters requested permission to send ‘two learned priests’ to the Mughal court, as well as ‘the principal books of the Law and the Gospel’, to teach and discuss with Akbar ‘the Law and what is most perfect in it’.²⁸

‘Abdullah’s embassy was a sensible matter for the Estado da Índia. The Mughal annexation of Gujarat and Bengal had the potential to disrupt the commercial and geopolitical interests of the Portuguese Crown in these two regions. The incorporation of the strategic ports of Surat and Khambhat made Gujarat a key element for Mughal trade and geopolitics. The Gujarati ports were a gateway that allowed the empire to access the maritime routes that linked the subcontinent with the Red Sea, the Persian Gulf and the Swahili Coast. Mughal maritime ambitions, however, stumbled on the cartazes. The intrusive and violent nature of the cartaz, as well as its association with the Portuguese claims to the lordship of the ‘Seas of India’, were therefore regarded by the Mughals as a serious obstacle to the development of a maritime policy and an attack to the image of the Mughal emperor as the lord of Hindustan.

From a Portuguese perspective, a Mughal presence in Gujarat represented a serious threat to Daman and Diu. As the Jesuit Duarte de Sande explained to the members of the Jesuit College of Coimbra, the Mughal annexation of Gujarat and Bengal, the ‘gems of India’, not only changed the balance of power in South Asia but also placed Akbar’s troops dangerously close to Daman and Diu and the informal settlements across the Bay of Bengal. Although Akbar seemed to allow the presence of Portuguese merchants in Bengal and ‘did not hinder [their] commerce’, Diu and Daman were two strategic objectives of the Mughals in Gujarat. Indeed, in Goa reports circulated that the last-minute reinforcement of the Portuguese garrison of Daman, after the fall of Surat to Mughal hands, forced Akbar to abandon his initial plans to conquer the city.²⁹

In spite of Akbar’s overtures towards the Estado da Índia, the Mughal interest in Daman and Diu remained intact. At the same time that ‘Abdullah was in Goa, the jâgîr (land grant) of Bharuch, Qutb al-Din Muhammad Khan, received instructions to prepare ‘an army to capture the European ports’.³⁰ As Abu’l Fazl explained in the Akbarnama, Akbar wanted to ensure the control of the totality of Gujarat and ‘remove the Firangis who were a stumbling-block in the way of the pilgrims to the Hijāz’.³¹ The casus belli given by Abu’l Fazl should be analysed bearing in mind the internal pressures faced by Akbar from the Sunni orthodox factions. One of the leading figures of the Sunni orthodox, Mullah ‘Abdullah Sultanpuri, who received from Humayun the title of ‘Makhdum ul-Mulk’, the ‘most respected of the state’, issued a fatwa that excused Mughal Muslims from the hajj. According to Badaoni, the decree was motivated by the fact that pilgrims from Hindustan were exposed to attacks from Shi’ite Safavids if they travelled by land, and if they opted to travel by sea faced the risk of suffering ‘indignities from the Portuguese, whose passports had pictures of Mary and Jesus (peace be upon Him) stamped on them’.³²

Despite his growing interest in heterodox religious experiments, between 1579 and 1580 Akbar still sought to cement his prestige as a leading figure of the Islamic world. In September 1579, the emperor forced a group of Mughal theologians, including ‘Abdullah Sultanpuri, to sign a mahzar (decree) that declared Akbar as Padshah-i Islam, the Emperor of Islam, a title that allowed the Mughal ruler to compete with the Ottoman sultans, who, after the conquest of the Mamluk sultanate of Cairo, claimed the superior status of Khalifa. The mahzar had two other aims. One was to guarantee that the emperor was able to control and manipulate the symbolic and institutional resources that supported the moral authority of the Muslim clergy. The other was to surround the figure of the emperor with divine qualities to enhance his imperial sovereignty. Indeed, the edict issued in 1579 paved the way to a long process in which Akbar sought to expand his authority over the clergy of the different religious groups of Mughal India. Abu’l Fazl’s Akbarnama celebrated the 1579 decree as one of the greatest triumphs of Akbar’s reign, a moment which confirmed him as ‘commander-in-chief of the spiritual world’.³³ Indeed, the declaration signed by the mullahs recognised the emperor as the supreme authority in religious matters, making the mahzar an extremely useful instrument to force the Sunni orthodox mullahs and other political actors to accept the emperor’s political projects.³⁴

Indeed, the mahzar of 1579 was part of a series of reforms promoted by Akbar, which included the restructuration of the mansabdari system in 1574. The changes implemented by the emperor to the system allowed the establishment of a classification of all officers into definitive categories, which was an attempt to define the organisation of the ruling elites, harmonise the empire’s administration and secure the centralisation of Mughal imperial power.³⁵ The 1570s were a period of increasing fiscal centralism and restructuring of the Timurid nobility, which affected the privileges of the traditional Turani elites, the nobles of Central Asian origin.

As Padshah-i Islam, Akbar was a protector of the hajj, and the recurrent interferences from the Portuguese in the pilgrimage routes had the potential to undermine the emperor’s pretensions of leading the Islamic world. At the same time, the conquest of Gujarat offered Akbar a new maritime dimension to his empire, and the Mughal aspirations in the Indian Ocean had in the Portuguese a serious obstacle. The instructions given to Qutb al-Din Muhammad Khan were a clear indication of an intention to cement Mughal power in Gujarat, enhance the emperor’s prestige and appease the dissatisfied Sunni orthodox factions by removing the firangi from Daman and Diu.

The Portuguese informal settlements in Bengal were also another subject that concerned the Mughal authorities. As in Gujarat, Mughal authority across Bengal was still not consolidated. Although the Estado da Índia had no formal presence in the region, the network of Portuguese informal settlements known as bandéis in Bengal constituted a potential obstacle to the affirmation of Mughal sovereignty. Portuguese private traders frequently took advantage of the instability of Bengal to evade Mughal taxation. The bandéis were also home to Portuguese and Indo-Portuguese renegades who offered their services as mercenaries or operated as pirates.³⁶ The control of the bandéis or their formal submission to Mughal sovereignty thus constituted an important démarche to ensure the stability of a province worryingly depicted by the Akbarnama as the ‘House of Turbulence’ (Bulgha Khana).³⁷

The invitation made to the Jesuits was thus an attempt to evaluate the intentions of the Estado da Índia vis-à-vis the Mughal Empire. Despite the tensions caused by the hajj and the Portuguese ports in Gujarat, Goa offered Akbar a window to Europe and the possibility to forge a partnership with the Christian foes of the Ottoman sultan. Unlike the Safavid rulers, Akbar’s rivalry with the Sublime Porte was not motivated by military and commercial concerns but fuelled by a dispute for prestige and symbolic power. The establishment of diplomatic relations with the Iberian monarchy would not only enhance Akbar’s prestige but also suggest that the Mughal ruler was able to interfere in the same European political theatre as the Ottoman sultan.

The Jesuit mission to Mogor was thus, to paraphrase Alan Strathern, an example of ‘theological diplomacy’, where a non-European non-Christian ruler invited the Portuguese authorities to dispatch Catholic missionaries as a pretext to establish a channel of communication or stimulate trade.³⁸ The Portuguese also welcomed and encouraged these overtures. The Iberian systems of royal patronage of missionary and ecclesiastical structures in Africa, Asia and the Americas (the Portuguese Padroado Real, and the Spanish Patronato Real), ensured the financial and political dependence of the religious orders operating across the Iberian colonial spaces. Missionary activities in areas outside formal Portuguese or Spanish jurisdiction were thus often articulated with the commercial and political goals defined in Goa, Manila, Lisbon or Madrid. Besides their proselytising undertakings, the clergymen (religiosos) were expected to perform other tasks such as facilitating contacts between Iberian and local officials; supporting and monitoring the activities of Iberian traders; and gathering all sorts of relevant information on local social, political and economic structures. Such employment of clergymen in diplomatic affairs had been a common practice in the European diplomatic repertoire since the consolidation of Christianity in the early medieval period. The prestige of the Church, the transnational networks of the religious orders and their advanced scholarly education made prelates and other ecclesiastics particularly apt to serve as formal or informal diplomatic agents.³⁹

The presence of missionaries sponsored by the Padroado Real at African or Asian courtly centres in places such as Benin, Mutapa, Ethiopia, Persia and Japan also allowed the Portuguese Crown to overcome the financial and logistical restraints related to resident embassies or the dispatch of a royal ambassador. Besides avoiding the costs of official diplomatic missions, missionaries were also freed from the necessity to affirm the prominence of the Iberian monarchies and thus able to participate in rituals that stressed the superiority of their hosts—avoiding potentially damaging conflicts over status. In other words, in a similar fashion to other non-state diplomatic agents, missionaries were able to do things that were forbidden to official diplomats, offering a flexibility that made them ideal to initiate exchanges or maintain a fluid channel of communication between different actors.⁴⁰ The Spanish authorities at Manila, for example, explored the non-official status of Franciscan friars to establish contacts with the new Japanese regime established by Toyotomi Hideyoshi, and also employed Jesuit missionaries as diplomatic agents during their exchanges with the Sultanate of Magindanao.⁴¹

Luís de Ataíde treated ‘Abdullah’s embassy with extreme care. Matteo Ricci, who witnessed the public entry of the Mughal ambassador into Goa, mentioned that the viceroy welcomed the ambassador ‘with all the possible hospitality, as when it happens with the viceregal entry’.⁴² The pomp surrounding ‘Abdullah’s reception in Goa was a calculated symbolic gesture that aimed to reduce tensions with the Mughal authorities and secure the establishment of more frequent contacts between both sides. The careful approach followed by Ataíde also sought to use ‘Abdullah’s presence to gather more information about Akbar and his empire. During his meetings with the ambassador, the viceroy and other officials asked him about Akbar and his empire. Until the 1570s, the Mughal Empire was relatively unknown to the Portuguese. There was some information regarding the existence of an originally Central Asian potentate, usually associated with the figure of Timurid or Tamarlane, that was successfully expanding into Northern India. However, the distance separating the first Mughal territories from the Estado da Índia made the Timurids a minor concern for the Portuguese authorities. The rapid conquest of Gujarat and Bengal, and their proximity to the Estado’s borders and interference in crucial regions for Portuguese interests, revealed that it was necessary to know this potentially hostile power.

The information provided by ‘Abdullah was duly compiled and systematised in a brief text comprising the main cities under Mughal rule, the number of tributary rulers and chieftains subdued by Akbar, the number of soldiers, horses and elephants of the Mughal army, as well as the variety of animals in the imperial menagerie.⁴³ The contents of ‘Abdullah’s condensed account reveal the interest of the Estado da Índia in assessing the military and economic capacity of the Mughal Empire. As the concluding lines of the text suggest, the Portuguese officials and the Jesuits were truly impressed: ‘although they seem incredible, we believe them to be true’ (quanquam incredibilia videantur, vera tamen esse creduntur).⁴⁴ The need to obtain similar detailed and credible data on the political, military and economic organisation of Mughal India would influence subsequent Portuguese and Jesuit accounts such as the texts produced by Antoni de Montserrat on Akbar’s court, Jerónimo Xavier on Jahangir’s court and household, and António Botelho during Shah Jahan’s reign.⁴⁵

Akbar’s request for ‘two learned priests’ led the viceroy to consult the Archbishop of Goa and the bishops of Cochin and Malacca, the main religious authorities of the Estado da Índia. On 10 November 1579, after reflecting on ‘a matter of such quality and importance’, the prelates of India decided to give their support to send a mission to the Mughal court. In the proclamation that provided approval for the mission, the Archbishop of Goa, D. Fr. Henrique de Távora e Brito, stated that the success of this ‘saintly enterprise’ (santa empresa) would mean that ‘the glory of God will have in Asia a new Constantine for the total ruin of the sect of Mohammad’ (tem a gloria de Deos nelle em Asia outro Constantino pera total ruina da seita de Mafamede).⁴⁶ Such optimism not only derived from Akbar’s firman requesting the presence of Jesuit missionaries, but also from a series of rumours circulating in Goa about Akbar’s imminent conversion. The Mughal emperor was apparently devoted to the Virgin Mary—a rumour also stimulated by the behaviour of ‘Abdullah’s embassy—and that he sent a mullah into exile for insulting the Virgin. Montserrat says that Akbar’s envoy was very knowledgeable of ‘the things of Our Lord’ (las cozas de N. Señor) and had a special affection for the Jesuits, regarding them as ‘holy men’ (diece a todos en reputacion de santos).⁴⁷ There were also stories that Akbar was particularly fond of European garments, encouraging his courtiers to dress according to European fashion.⁴⁸

The firman and these rumours contributed thus to the perception that Akbar was somehow, to paraphrase Sanjay Subrahmanyam, a Prester John in the making, an Asian ruler ready to embrace Christianity and to join the Portuguese efforts to reduce the Islamic presence in the subcontinent.⁴⁹ However, if the mission failed, as the archbishop noted, the missionaries would become martyrs and win ‘eternal glory’. The death of Catholic missionaries under the patronage of the Portuguese Crown would also allow the Estado da Índia to wage war against Akbar, ‘punishing him as a rebel of the Gospel and a bad host of his ministers and false to his own word and the law of the people, and conquering his ports, lands and ships’.⁵⁰ The mission had therefore the advantage of the potential conversion of a powerful Muslim ruler, if successful, or of offering a justifiable casus belli to the Portuguese in an eventual conflict against the Mughals. If the missionaries became hostages, the archbishop hoped that the Estado would rescue them ‘according to what charity and reason say, and if it can be comfortably met’.⁵¹ Archbishop Távora e Brito’s proclamation conceived of the Jesuit mission to the Mughal court as a spiritual enterprise with immediate and direct political implications. In order words, for the archbishop the mission was also a diplomatic exercise of the Estado da Índia that made the Portuguese authorities ultimately responsible for the safety of the missionaries.

After the approval of the mission to the Mogor, the Jesuit provincial appointed three missionaries: Rodolfo Acquaviva, Antoni de Montserrat and Francisco Henriques. Rodolfo Acquaviva, the son of the Duke of Atri and nephew of Claudio Acquaviva, the General of the Society of Jesus, had an impeccable aristocratic pedigree that made him a suitable choice to head a mission that targeted a prince in a courtly environment. Francisco Henriques was a Persian convert and a Jesuit novice from Hormuz. Probably due to his status as a convert and a novice, Henriques is often presented as a mere translator or interpreter. However, Ruy Vicente’s decision to appoint an ethnic Persian novice was both pragmatic and symbolic. Henriques’ apparent proficiency in Persian made him a trustworthy interpreter and his ethnic background suggested that he could win the sympathy of Akbar’s Persian courtiers.

Antoni de Montserrat was not the first choice to join the mission. The first name chosen by Ruy Vicente was Manoel Teixeira, but the poor health of this Portuguese Jesuit led many to believe that he would die during the journey from Goa to Fatehpur. The second name to be considered was that of João de Mesquita, another Portuguese, but, according to Matteo Ricci, ‘for some unknown reason’ the provincial ultimately decided not to appoint him.⁵² It is probable that Ruy Vicente’s indecision concerning the composition of the mission was related to the nationality of its members. The presence of a Portuguese Jesuit would facilitate regular communication between the mission and the Estado, but it could also be regarded by the Mughals with some suspicion. Although the connections between the Jesuit missionaries and the Portuguese authorities were notorious, the presence of a Portuguese national would attach the activities of Jesuits to the ups and downs of Luso-Mughal relations and reduce the capacity of the missionaries to act as neutral agents and gain the trust of the Mughal courtiers. Antoni Montserrat, a Catalan educated in Lisbon and Coimbra who served as a tutor at the Portuguese royal court, emerged as a solution to the need to appoint someone who would have the approval of the Estado.

The names of the three missionaries selected by Ruy Vicente were fully approved by Luís de Ataíde. Before the departure of the three missionaries to Fatehpur Sikri, the viceroy had a meeting with Rodolfo Acquaviva. The rendezvous was a public statement of the Estado’s support for the ‘great enterprise’, as well as a reminder to Rodolfo and his companions that their mission was not just a religious project. Besides converting a new Constantine, the Jesuits had the delicate task of promoting Portuguese interests at the Mughal court. One of the main functions of the missionaries was to facilitate communication between the Estado and Akbar, as well as gather relevant knowledge about the Mughal polity. Indeed, between 1580 and 1583, the three Jesuits were the eyes and ears of the Estado da Índia in Mogor.

II

After the meeting between Luís de Ataíde and Rodolfo Acquaviva, the three missionaries joined Abdullah and his entourage in Daman. On 17 November 1579, they initiated a long journey towards Fatehpur Sikri. In the words of Francisco Henriques, it was a mostly ‘uneventful voyage’ (no caminho não se offereco cousa que de notar), with the exception of the illness suffered by Antoni Montserrat, who was forced to stay some days in Narwar, and the conversations with ‘some mullahs we met’.⁵³ On 28 February 1580, Acquaviva and Henriques arrived discreetly at Fatehphur. Following Akbar’s instructions, the two missionaries avoided contact with other courtiers and the local Portuguese who resided at the Mughal capital. On the following day, they met the emperor, who received them ‘with much love and joy’.⁵⁴

One week later, on 4 March, a recovering Montserrat arrived at the Mughal court. Akbar met the Catalan missionary upon his arrival. In a gesture of courtesy, the emperor dispatched one of his personal physicians to treat Montserrat. In one letter to Ruy Vicente, Montserrat identifies the physician as a Persian named Hakim Ali, ‘a man with much authority’ who apparently was ‘fond of our religion, although he conceals this in public’.⁵⁵ In another letter to the provincial, the Catalan Jesuit mentioned that an impressed Akbar praised him for his efforts to learn Persian during the journey from Daman to Fathepur.⁵⁶

These remarks on the emperor’s apparent friendliness towards Montserrat and the other missionaries prompted an initial perception of the Mughal court as a promising mission field and a potential ally of the united Iberian crowns. The first letters and reports dispatched by the three missionaries, written mostly between April and July 1580, presented an encouraging scenario that suggested that Akbar was apparently on the verge of embracing Christianity. The three missionaries reported to Ruy Vicente that the emperor wanted to learn ‘the mysteries of the Holy Trinity and how God has a son who became a man, because he has some troubles in understanding these two things’.⁵⁷ Akbar’s interest in Christianity was such that he told the Jesuits that he ‘wished [for] Christians and Churches in his lands, like the Turk has in his lands, and since there are gentiles who have their temples and ceremonies, no one would be surprised with that’.⁵⁸

These promising words suggested that the emperor sought to use the presence of the Jesuit missionaries to attract Portuguese and other Christians to settle in Mughal India. The reference to the Ottoman Empire was not a mere passing example, but a strong indication that Akbar wanted to ensure that his empire had the same cosmopolitan makeup and universal claims as the Sublime Porte. Some elements of the construction of Mughal universal rule were immediately noticed by the members of the Jesuit mission. In a letter to Everard Mercurian, Rodolfo Acquaviva mentioned that Akbar was ‘a friend of all nations, particularly of the Christians’ (amico di tutte le natione, ma particularmente delli Christiani).⁵⁹ As Abu’l Fazl explained in the Akbarnama, the emperor’s goodwill towards ‘all nations’ was an expression of imperial sovereignty that allowed Akbar to exercise his authority over all mankind:

as it has been our disposition from the beginning of our attaining discretion to this day not to pay attention to differences of religion and variety of manners and to regard the tribes of mankind as the servants of God, we have endeavoured to regulate mankind in general.⁶⁰

Aware of Akbar’s expansionist ambitions, and recently acquainted with the universalistic aspirations of Mughal kingship and imperial ideology, Acquaviva and Montserrat insinuated that the emperor’s conversion could prompt the extension of the Mughal Empire, suggesting that ‘the zeal to expand the faith will make you conquer new states’.⁶¹

In another letter to the captain of Daman, the three missionaries presented Akbar as ‘a friend of the King of Portugal, and despite all the kings of India, he only regards as a king His Majesty Sebastian I, of whom he is very fond’.⁶² Indeed, Akbar is presented as a protector of the Portuguese diaspora in South Asia:

He is very fond of the Portuguese who live here and rewards them, and he wants more to come. He gives to them houses; and to those who want to leave, he allows them to go, offering them horses and guards and a firman to allow them to travel at ease until they reach our lands, and, according to the quality of their person, he also gives them money to support their travels.⁶³

Akbar, however, adopted an ambiguous attitude towards the possibility of converting to Christianity. During his meetings with the Jesuits, the emperor often questioned all the theological arguments. The Jesuit missionaries were particularly troubled by his determination to understand the mysteries of the Gospels, especially the Holy Trinity, through logical reasoning and not by an act of faith. As Rodolfo Acquaviva explained to Ruy Vicente, although Akbar was ‘displeased with his religion and mullahs, and considers his religion to be false’, the emperor had problems in accepting ‘the main articles of our faith, the trinity, the resurrection, the passion and death of Our Lord’.⁶⁴ Another problem was the emperor’s curiosity and desire to witness miracles. This desire led Akbar to plot a challenge involving the Jesuits and one mullah disliked by the emperor to walk into fire holding the Bible and the Qur’an.⁶⁵

As Archbishop Távora e Brito mentioned in the proclamation that launched the mission, the Jesuits sent to the Mughal court had the task of making Akbar a new Constantine. The emperor and his inner circle were the main targets of the mission. Throughout their days at the Mughal court, the three padres would follow a top-down strategy, a modus operandi adopted repeatedly by other Jesuit missions at courtly milieux. This approach had been theorised by Ignatius Loyola when the Jesuits embarked on their first mission to Ethiopia. In his instructions to the missionaries destined for the lands of the Prester John, Ignatius asked them ‘to obtain a familiarity’ with the ruler and develop a relationship of friendship ‘through all honest means’.⁶⁶ Once the missionaries had gained the emperor’s trust and favour, they were supposed to explain to him that his salvation was only possible through the Catholic faith. The Jesuits should also target the grandees with the same ‘exercises’.⁶⁷ After persuading the local elites, the Jesuits would target local scholars and theologians in an attempt to persuade them to ‘accept the Catholic truths’.⁶⁸ During their contacts with the literati, the missionaries would seek to ensure that the local intellectual and religious elites were not forced ‘to abandon things that they esteem’.⁶⁹ After convincing the political, intellectual and religious elites, the Jesuits were supposed to encourage the masses to adhere to Catholicism.⁷⁰

Initially, the members of the first Jesuit mission, due to the language barrier and their lack of knowledge of the social and religious subtleties of the Mughal Empire, participated only in the religious debates organised by Akbar. The discussions with Muslim, Hindu and Jain theologians, however, gradually introduced the missionaries to the complex political and religious reality of Akbar’s reign. The letters of Antoni de Montserrat and Rodolfo Acquaviva reveal the increasing antagonism between the emperor and the Sunni orthodox mullahs, and the existence of an influential group of heterodox courtiers led by Abu’l Fazl that was close to Akbar and sympathetic to the Jesuits.

Despite all the problems posed by the language barrier and the complex Mughal political scenario, Akbar made the Jesuits a part of a select group of courtiers who had the notable function of reading works on religion and history to the emperor—an important part of the daily life of the Mughal court. Besides reading these works, the missionaries were often charged by the emperor with drafting letters destined for Goa, as well as reading the correspondence from the Estado da Índia. The proximity to Akbar’s inner circle allowed the Jesuits to contact a range of relevant courtiers and officials, exploring other opportunities to use their faculties in the service of the Mughal elite. Indeed, the Jesuit missionaries could be easily integrated into the group of the ‘elite sayyids, great shaikhs, eminent scholars, eminent scholars, ingenuous doctors, and agreeable courtiers of various classes’, intellectuals who came from ‘the various communities of Hindustan, from among the masters of excellence and perfection, and men of the sword and the pen’.⁷¹

The meetings between Akbar and the Jesuits were not exclusively dedicated to religious matters. The missionaries were asked to talk about Portuguese and European history or explain the imagery and themes of the works of art they brought from Goa. Among the books, engravings and printing carried by the missionaries were works by Philippe Galle, an engraving of Dürer’s Small Passion and Virgin and Child, a retable of Our Lady, a copy of Saint Luke Madonna, a copy of Abraham Ortelius’ atlas Theatrum Orbis Terrarum and a first edition of the Polyglot Bible by Pieter van der Bocht. The images of title pages of the latter volume—two allegorical compositions evoking Philip II as a personification of Pietas Regia and Pietatis Concordiae, or in other words an exaltation of the Iberian Habsburg monarch as a pious universal ruler who sought the union of different peoples⁷²—exposed new possibilities to enhance the iconographical and allegorical repertoire associated with Mughal imperial authority to Akbar and his successors. European Christian art recurred to Biblical metaphors and symbols that were easily recognisable to an educated Islamicate audience, and very similar to the allegorical motifs explored by Mughal imperial art.⁷³ The links between Catholic iconography and Indo-Persian Islamicate symbols of power suited the efforts made by Akbar and his successors—in particular Jahangir and Shah Jahan—to govern an empire based on universal rule and divinely sanctioned kingship.⁷⁴ Besides, as Ebba Koch noted, European Christian art also provided a neutral medium that allowed the mobilisation of Hindu and Muslim artistic traditions to develop a new heterogenous visual language that could be attractive to different sections of the Mughal population.⁷⁵

Akbar’s relation with the missionaries would suddenly change after the emperor received reports that confirmed the success of the rebellious movement initiated in 1579 by Baba Khan Qaqshal and Ma’sum Khan Kabuli in Bengal and Bihar. The revolt was a reaction to the reforms on the mansabdari system and the fiscal system. These transformations, which were intended to affirm the emperor’s authority in Bengal, were rapidly perceived as an attempt to reduce the political autonomy of the local elites. The situation in the region became increasingly serious grave after the rebels conquered Tanda and executed the Mughal governor.⁷⁶

After overthrowing the main representative of Akbar’s authority in Bengal, the rebels decreed that the khutba should be read in the name of Mirza Muhammad Hakim, the ruler of Kabul and the half-brother of the Mughal emperor. The acclamation of Mirza Muhammad Hakim as the leader of the Bengali Muslims was a powerful symbolic gesture. It should be analysed while bearing in mind the growing discontent of the traditional Timurid elites of Central Asian origin vis-à-vis Akbar’s religious and cultural policies, which favoured the integration of Hindus, Hindustani Muslims and Shi’ite Persians in the upper echelons of the imperial apparatus.⁷⁷ For many discontented Timurid officials, clergymen and courtiers, the religious orthodoxy of the ruler of Kabul and his strict observance of the customs of the Chaghatais (tura-i Chaghatai: the traditional code of legal and moral conduct followed by the Central Asian Turco-Mongol tribes) made Mirza Muhammad Hakim an attractive alternative to Akbar.⁷⁸

Acquaviva, Montserrat and Henriques were aware of the dangers posed by the Bengal revolt. A joint report dated 13 July 1580 alerted them that the news from Bengal and the religious overtones behind the rebellion would force the emperor to change his behaviour towards the Jesuits. The report mentioned that ‘persistent rumours that the king does not believe in his religion and shows affection towards ours’ circulated in Bengal.⁷⁹ For almost a month, Akbar avoided meeting the Jesuits. Whenever the missionaries visited the emperor, ‘he did not make the demonstrations of kindness he usually did towards us, nor did he speak with us or the other Portuguese’.⁸⁰ In a letter to Ruy Vicente, Rodolfo Acquaviva mentioned that Akbar’s sudden coldness towards the padres was a consequence of ‘the opposition of his own kin (…) and even his mother, wives and friends upset him and, besides, he has to face those who want to harm him with rebellions, like the rebels of Bengals’.⁸¹ The intrigues of the court and the success of the rebels ‘scared the emperor’ (lhe põem medo) and led him to distance himself from the Jesuits.⁸² In another letter to Ruy Vicente, Montserrat interpreted Akbar’s behaviour as an act of dissimulation to avoid the hostility of the orthodox mullahs and the traditional Timurid elites.⁸³ The emperor expected an imminent revolt and refused ‘to leave the court because he fears to face the king of Kabul, his brother, whom he suspects is allied to the rebels’.⁸⁴

Although the emperor seemed to keep a calculated distance towards the Jesuits, the missionaries requested a firman allowing all Mughal subjects who converted from Christianity to Islam to return to their original religion. Akbar accepted the petition, but a firman was not issued. According to Montserrat, the emperor wanted to avoid the opposition of some courtly factions but entrusted the padres with the freedom to reconvert former Christian, guaranteeing that anyone who obstructed Jesuit proselytising would be punished.⁸⁵

This positive overture led the missionaries to present three more requests. which, in Montserrat’s own words would allow the Jesuits ‘to serve and speak with His Highness more often and without scandalising his people’.⁸⁶ The first request was to grant a permit to contribute to the distribution of money to the poor to the missionaries by organising an inventory of poor families. The second sought to vest the Jesuits with the capacity to work as intermediaries between the emperor and ‘the Mughals who come from afar to request favours’. The third request was permission to teach Portuguese to the princes. The three requests suggest that the Jesuits wanted to implement a conversion strategy based on public charitable works, political lobbying and cultural propaganda that aimed, at the same time, to construct a prestigious image of the Society of Jesus in the Mughal Empire. Although Akbar approved the three requests, he was only enthusiastic about the third. Indeed, Montserrat says that the emperor said yes to the other two requests ‘with little warmth’, while the third ‘was welcomed with signs of much contentment’.⁸⁷

Probably due to his previous experience as a tutor at the Portuguese court and experience in the Jesuit educational system, Montserrat was entrusted with the task of teaching Portuguese to Prince Murad. For the Jesuits, Akbar’s decision to have one of his sons educated by the padres was an encouraging sign that suggested that the missionaries would soon have the possibility to influence the local ruling elites. Besides, Montserrat’s appointment also had the welcome advantage of increasing his status within the court, transforming him from an agent associated to a foreign power into an integrated member of the Mughal imperial and courtly apparatus. Although, as Munis. D. Faruqui noted, it was not expected that tutors would play a pivotal role in the political career of a prince, the Portuguese lessons given by Montserrat to Murad could have been a political tool.⁸⁸ Indeed, Mughal emperors usually favoured the appointment of tutors who could offer useful forms of knowledge to boost the political chances of the princes.⁸⁹ Besides Montserrat ’s past as a courtly tutor and vice-rector in Lisbon, his proximity to the Portuguese authorities at Goa made him an interesting choice who could not only offer access to a new idiom and new forms of knowledge to Murad, but also enhance his political prospects by facilitating possible future contacts with relevant figures of the Estado da Índia.

Albeit initially presented by the Jesuits as an important achievement, the positive perception of the future of the mission prompted by Montserrat’s appointment changed rapidly. In a report to Everard Mercurian, Rodolfo Acquaviva stated that the missionaries believed that the emperor’s positive reaction to their requests was nothing more than ‘dissimulations’.⁹⁰ The growing tensions between Akbar and Mirza Muhammad Hakim were apparently the reason behind the demonstrations of goodwill towards the Jesuits. Akbar was preparing a punitive campaign against Mirza Muhammad, who had attempted an invasion of Mughal territories in 1581. The sympathetic gestures towards the padres were apparently intended to ensure that the Estado da Índia would not be involved in a conflict, which would have the potential to drag other regional powers. As Rodolfo Acquaviva’s explained to Mercurian, the emperor ‘knew that his brother would launch a war against him (…) and to make his shoulders safe, he tried to ensure Portuguese [neutrality] by suggesting that he was fond of our religion’.⁹¹

After one year at the Mughal court, the Jesuits were still unable to understand if Akbar was ‘a friend or foe of the King of Portugal’.⁹² There were reasons to believe that a war between the Mughals and the Portuguese Estado da Índia could be imminent. Akbar was presenting himself as the ‘greatest king of all’ and announced that he did not accept the Portuguese claim of lordship of the seas, ‘which forces his ships to pay taxes in the ports of the King of Portugal’.⁹³ Despite the growing hostility towards Goa, Rodolfo mentioned that Akbar and his mother granted several favours to the missionaries, but such acts of generosity were again perceived as part of a strategy of dissimulation. The emperor apparently wanted ‘to gain credit’ in the eyes of the Jesuits and the Estado da Índia, in order to avoid any suspicion of his real intentions.⁹⁴ Indeed, Akbar’s interest in Christianity was a subterfuge that he also used to manipulate other religious groups at the court. As Rodolfo Acquaviva explained to Everard Mercurian, the religious beliefs of the emperor intrigued many in the court:

There are many opinions about the king among this people, some think that he is a Christian, others think that he is a Hindu (gentio), others says that he is a Muslim, and there are some who, after some more consideration, say that he is neither Christian, Gentile nor Moor.⁹⁵

The lack of progress of the missionaries led the provincial to summon Francisco Henriques back to Goa to present a report on the mission to Ruy Vicente and other members of the Jesuit hierarchy in India. The provincial’s decision seemed to have been motivated by a concern about the absence of conversions and assess the utility of the mission.

Coinciding with Henriques’ departure to Goa, Akbar instructed Antoni de Montserrat to join the Mughal expedition as Prince Murad’s tutor. Initially, the emperor had no intention to take the Jesuits on the expedition to Afghan, probably fearing that Montserrat and Acquaviva would report back to Goa all sorts of information related to the organisation and modus operandi of the Mughal armies. However, the presence of the Catalan Jesuit was also that of a valuable mediator between the Mughal emperor and the Estado da Índia. The Portuguese were following the conflict between Akbar and his half-brother with interest, and the instability of Hindustan could entice the Estado to take advantage and expand its influence in Gujarat. Montserrat could thus be used to allow Akbar to assess the intentions of the Portuguese authorities regarding a conflict that had the potential to attract other regional powers with interests in Afghanistan such as the Uzbeks and Safavid Persia.

The time spent by Montserrat at the Mughal camp during the Afghan campaign offered the Catalan missionary a rare opportunity to observe Akbar closely and gather different sorts of intelligence on the territories and military capacity of his empire. This experience would also allow Montserrat to develop considerable knowledge on the geography on the northern territories of Mughal India and Afghanistan—two regions that the Portuguese lacked enough information.

Montserrat’s writings should therefore be analysed with the role played by several Jesuit missionaries as political actors who actively participated in the European expansionist strategies in India in mind. The topics covered by the two texts written by Montserrat represented a rare collection of information that corresponded to the interests of the Portuguese authorities in India, and probably helped viceroys and other senior officials to delineate their strategies regarding the Great Mughal. Deliberately or not, the Relaçam and the Commentarius were useful instruments for the commercial, diplomatic, and military interests of the Portuguese Crown in India. The geographical information gathered by Montserrat could be used, for example, to help Portuguese merchants to participate in the Mughal trade routes or reach the main markets of Akbar’s empire.

III

After returning from Afghanistan, Akbar met Rodolfo Acquaviva to discuss the possibility of sending an embassy to Philip II formed by two Mughal emissaries and Antoni Montserrat. The Italian Jesuit reported to Rome that the emperor wanted to sign a treaty with the Crown of Portugal that would promote the establishment of a Portuguese community in the Mughal Empire, since Akbar wished for ‘many Portuguese to inhabit his lands’. The emperor’s plans could offer a new impetus to the Jesuit mission. Rodolfo Acquaviva believed that if there were a significant or influential Christian community in the empire, Akbar would be more comfortable with embracing Christianity: ‘if there are many Christian in these lands, it would be easier for him to take a decision in religious matters’.⁹⁶

While Akbar initiated the arrangements to send an embassy to the Iberian Peninsula, Qutb al-Din Khan attacked Daman. An anonymous Jesuit report, the Novas que vierão da India Oriental no anno de 1582, mentions that the Mughal officials marched towards Daman with ‘many horsemen, several marksmen, elephants and artillery’.⁹⁷ The Mughal army had the collaboration of the Choutia, the rei vizinho of Daman, who besides providing logistical support also had spies monitoring the movements of the Portuguese soldiers.⁹⁸ It was probably the intelligence gathered by these spies, which indicated that the Portuguese garrison was well supplied with men and arms, that led Qutb al-Din to put an end to the attack.

As Antoni Montserrat noted in his Commentarius, the attack was the result of a series of events that sought to pressure the Portuguese positions in Gujarat. The first episode was the open hostility of the governors of Surat and Bharuch, who ‘obstinately’ refused to acquire cartazes. The second event was the return of Gulbadan from Mecca. Immediately after setting foot in Surat, the emperor’s aunt compelled the Mughal authorities to force the Portuguese to return of Butsar, the village she had ceded to the Estado in exchange for a cartaz to Hijaz. Apparently, the governor of Surat sent a ‘body of cavalry’ to occupy the village, but the Portuguese troops were able to deter the assault. The Butsar incident was followed by another attack against a Portuguese fleet. The incident resulted in the arrest of nine Portuguese soldiers who, according to Montserrat, were duly executed after refusing to convert to Islam. Qutb al-Din Khan’s incursion against Daman emerges thus as another step in a concerted Mughal plan to launch an offensive against the Estado. Indeed, as Abu’l Fazl noted in the Akbarnama, the success of the Afghan campaign allowed Akbar to resume his plans for consolidating Mughal power in Gujarat.

When the news of the failed attack on Daman reached Acquaviva and Montserrat, the two missionaries confronted Akbar. The emperor ‘swore that the war had been started without his orders or knowledge’, suggesting that Qutb ald-Din Khan and Shihab al-Din, the subadar of Gujarat, had launched a campaign against the Estado on their own initiative. Akbar alleged that he was unable to act against the governors, ‘because these enterprises always seemed to be undertaken in his own cause and for the public benefit, for the Christians were held to be the enemies of the Muslims’. Initially, the missionaries accepted the emperor’s explanation. Qutb ald-Din Khan and Shihab al-Din were prominent Sunni orthodox who opposed the emperor’s religious policy and sympathised with Mirza Muhammad Hakim. The anonymous author of the Novas que vierão da India Oriental also dissociated Akbar from the attack. Apparently, as soon as he learnt about what happened in Daman, the emperor wrote to Goa ‘asking the Estado to do all possible harm to these captains’.⁹⁹

However, the fact that Qutb ald-Din Khan and Shihab al-Din obeyed Akbar’s command to retreat with ‘immediate promptness’ convinced both Acquaviva and Montserrat that the emperor ordered the attack. These suspicions were in line with reports from Portuguese spies on a secret Mughal plan to attack Diu. The Novas que vierão da India Oriental mentioned that the plan consisted in ‘introducing in a secret and dissimulated manner many Mughal people in Diu, so that one day they could rise against the city’s garrison’.¹⁰⁰ Montserrat added more details in the Commentarius, revealing that Akbar sent ‘a great multitude of weapons to be brought among bales of cotton’ to Diu.¹⁰¹

The Mughal movements along the borders with Daman and Diu suggested that, in Montserrat’s words, Akbar ‘was fomenting war in a clandestine manner’.¹⁰² The emperor’s ambiguous behaviour suggested that he was playing a double game. His tacit support for the attacks sought to satisfy the Sunni orthodox factions. At the same time, by suggesting that the attacks were the work of disaffected, untamed and politically powerful Mughal officials, and inviting the Estado to act against them, the emperor sought to use the Portuguese to undermine the ambitions of potential rebels.¹⁰³

Despite Akbar’s ‘delusive and fraudulent’ behaviour vis-à-vis Daman, Acquaviva and Montserrat mentioned that after the Afghan campaign he demonstrated a ‘fresh zeal’ in learning about Christianity. The emperor asked the two Jesuits to contact the provincial to send another missionary. The desired profile was someone fluent in Persian and Portuguese, preferably a former Muslim converted to Catholicism and ‘well-versed’ in both religions.¹⁰⁴ Such a description is reminiscent of the profile of Francisco Henriques, the Persian-born Jesuit who had been recalled to Goa. Although Henriques was far from being fluent in Persian—indeed, one of the reasons for his return to Goa was his inability to work as a reliable interpreter—Akbar seemed to have appreciated the effort made by the Jesuits to present a missionary related to the Persianate world of the Mughal court. In fact, his proposal stressed the need to find interlocutors with adequate linguistic skills and theological knowledge to serve the emperor’s diplomatic and religious projects.

This ‘fresh zeal’ seemed also to have encouraged Akbar’s to hasten the arrangements related to the embassy to Philip II and the Pope. The emperor’s ‘fresh zeal’ and his revigorated interest to establish direct contact with Philip II coincided with the arrival of an Ottoman embassy to Fatehpur in the spring of 1582. The emissaries from the Sublime Porte sought to persuade Akbar to accept a proposal to join the Ottomans in an anti-Habsburg alliance stretching from the Mediterranean to the Indian Ocean. The Ottoman grand vizier, Koja Sinan Pasha, advocated a greater Ottoman interference in the Indian Ocean to thwart Portuguese interests in the region. The view from Istanbul was that the Portuguese Estado da Índia posed a serious military and commercial challenge. In 1581, an Ottoman fleet commanded by Mir Ali Beg raided the Portuguese fort of Muscat.¹⁰⁵ This successful attack encouraged Koja Sinan to launch a diplomatic offensive in South and Southeast Asia to form an anti-Portuguese alliance.¹⁰⁶ As the ruler of an expanding Islamic power opposed to the Portuguese monopoly of the seas of Hindustan, Akbar emerged as a potential partner.

However, the reception of the Ottoman envoys at the Mughal court was rather turbulent. To the surprise of the Jesuits and many courtiers, Akbar neglected the Mughal diplomatic protocol and was deliberately hostile to the envoys from the Great Turk. As Montserrat recalled in the Commentarius, the Ottoman embassy ‘went up in smoke’. The leading emissary was arrested and sent to Lahore, while the rest of his entourage managed to escape discreetly. For the Catalan Jesuit, Akbar’s hostile treatment of the Ottoman delegation was a reaction to the arrogance displayed by the envoys’ proposal ‘to persuade him to wage war against the king of Spain and Portugal’.¹⁰⁷ Montserrat’s explanation sought to demonstrate Akbar’s sympathy towards the Iberian Crowns, notwithstanding the tensions prompted by the Mughal attempts to remove the Portuguese positions in Gujarat. Although Montserrat’s account of the Ottoman embassy should be considered as an attempt to validate the importance of a Jesuit presence in Mughal India and stress Akbar’s importance to Iberian geopolitical interests, the perception of the Catalan missionary on Mughal animosity towards the Sublime Porte was far from being incorrect.

In the same way that the Portuguese and ports in the Indian Ocean deterred the development of the new maritime ambitions of the Mughal empire, the presence of another competitor with significant naval resources such as the Ottomans had the potential to hinder the incipient Mughal naval efforts. At the same time, an alliance between Ottomans and Mughals would contradict Akbar’s pretence to be the leading ruler of the Islamic world, a claim that deliberately challenged the symbolic power of the Ottoman sultans as caliphs. Besides these eventual damages to the maritime and symbolic policies pursued by the Mughal emperor, the presence of envoys from a rival Islamic ruler who adopted the title of Caliph and Protector of the Holy Cities and championed Sunni orthodoxy were highly suspicious. As the conflict with Mirza Hakim and the growing tensions with the Uzbek rulers demonstrated, Mughal Sunni orthodox officials and courtiers were receptive to overtures from other Islamic rulers. Suspicions of an Ottoman attempt to disturb the Mughal court or incite a rebellion were probably another reason for Akbar’s hostile treatment.

Against this backdrop of imminent Ottoman interference in the region, Akbar accelerated the preparation of an embassy to the Iberian Peninsula. The prospect of Turkish fleets in the Indian Ocean made the Estado da Índia a suitable partner to ensure a balanced distribution of power in the seas of Hindustan. An alliance or the prospect of a partnership between Philip II and Akbar had the potential to dissuade the Sublime Porte from pursuing expansionist ambitions in South Asia. Apart from negotiating an alliance, the main goal of the embassy was to introduce Akbar to the European diplomatic theatre. After meeting Philip II, the envoys would travel to Rome to greet the Pope and discuss the continuity of the Jesuit mission at the Mughal court.

The concern in enhancing the image of the Mughal emperor in Europe (Firangistan) is patent in the letter that the embassy would present to Philip II. The text carefully drafted by Abu’l Fazl is an illuminating piece of Akbari imperial ideology. Generically addressed to the ‘wise men of the Franks’ (Danayan-i-Farang)¹⁰⁸—a vague form of address probably related to eventual doubts regarding the evolution of the political crisis that led to the acclamation of Philip II as king of Portugal in 1581—the letter asked the Iberian monarch to send the Mughal court a learned missionary or scholar with the capacity to teach Christian doctrine in Persian, as well as copies of the Gospels, the Psalms and the Pentateuch, preferably translated into Arabic and Persian. Apart from this request, Akbar’s missive stated the emperor’s desire ‘to strengthen our friendship and confirming our union’.¹⁰⁹

One of the most interesting aspects of this document is how Akbar expresses his ideology and political project through allegories, symbolic images and metaphors that set out an idea of Mughal superiority and universal rule. At the same time, however, Akbar does not make any claim to supreme authority over the king of Spain and addresses Philip II as an equal (‘a recipient of divine illumination’) and a fellow member of the universal family of world rulers, ‘the exalted tribe of princes’.¹¹⁰ As Ebba Koch has argued, the letter to Philip II reveals that for the Mughal emperor it was the social and political position of a ruler that was relevant, instead of his religion, ethnicity or cultural background—an idea that allowed the Mughals to share different ideologies, symbols and identities.¹¹¹

Besides Antoni de Montserrat, Akbar appointed two Mughal courtiers: Saiyid Muzaffar, a Turani nobleman close to the Sunni orthodox faction who opposed the overtures vis-à-vis the Portuguese; and ‘Abdullah, the courtier who led the 1579 Mughal embassy to Goa. The composition of the embassy—a missionary sponsored by the Portuguese Crown (Montserrat), an envoy familiar with the Portuguese authorities (‘Abdullah), and a courtier close to the orthodox factions (Muzaffar)—sought to aggregate different sensibilities and interests. Montserrat’s presence guaranteed that both Akbar and the Iberian authorities would have a reliable mediator. ‘Abdullah already had some experience in dealing Portuguese officials, ensuring thus that Akbar’s interests would not be completely dependent on Montserrat’s exploits. The appointment of Saiyid Muzaffar sought to assure the orthodox Sunni that any dealings with the firangis would not result in the subordination of an Islamic power such as the Mughal Empire.

As Montserrat mentioned in the Commentarius, the embassy faced several delays. Saiyid Muzaffar was reticent to join it. The apparent strong opposition from the Sunni orthodox factions to the emperor’s overtures to Philip II were probably behind his unwillingness to travel to Goa. The ambassador feared that Akbar conceived of his appointment as part of a plot to punish him for his association with Shah Mansur, one of the supporters of Mirza Hakim. When the three envoys arrived at Surat in August 1582, Saiyid Muzaffar abandoned the embassy and became an exile in the Deccani sultanates. The reason for the desertion, according to Montserrat, was a sealed letter carried by the Jesuit that should only be opened by Qutbuddin Khan, the governor of Surat. Saiyid Muzaffar believed that the letter had instructions to execute him. Before reaching Surat, he tried to persuade ‘Abdullah to murder Montserrat and take refuge in the Deccan. The refusal of the other ambassador forced Muzaffar to meet Qutbuddin Khan in secret. Confronted with the governor’s refusal to murder the Jesuit missionary and thwart the embassy, Muzaffar abandoned Surat. The need to end the Portuguese blockade was at the time Qutbuddin Khan’s priority. The murder or arrest of an intermediary close to the Estado da Índia and sponsored by the Mughal emperor would not only aggravate the situation it would also constitute a serious threat to Qutbuddin Khan’s position.¹¹²

The Mughal embassy was received in Goa with some caution. Besides the tensions with the Mughal authorities, the beginning of Philip II’s reign as king of Portugal caused some agitation in the Estado da Índia. As in metropolitan Portugal, in Goa the change of regime generated fears of a progressive ‘Castilianisation’ of all echelons of the colonial apparatus. Amid these concerns, the newly appointed viceroy, Dom Francisco de Mascarenhas, was entrusted by Philip II with the mission of ensuring a smooth transition and had ample powers to persuade potential opponents of the new monarch with generous symbolic and financial rewards.¹¹³ However, Akbar’s embassy to Iberia and Rome, due to its geopolitical relevance and diplomatic symbolism, posed an unexpected challenge for Mascarenhas. The importance of the embassy required the viceroy to delineate a coherent strategy with Philip II vis-à-vis the reception of the Mughal ambassadors and the matters to be negotiated. In order to gain enough time, Montserrat and ‘Abdullah’s departure to Lisbon was delayed for the following year. The argument presented by Mascarenhas was that the only ship ready to set sail was small and overcrowded, lacking the dignity deserved by Akbar.¹¹⁴

Twelve months later, as Montserrat sarcastically noted, the Mughal embassy ‘was entirely abandoned and delivered over to eternal oblivion’.¹¹⁵ In 1583, the former sultan of Gujarat, Muzaffar Khan, launched a rebellion against Mughal rule.¹¹⁶ The rebellion would demand much of Akbar’s military and diplomatic efforts between 1583 and 1584, making the negotiations with Philip II a minor concern for Akbar’s foreign policy. The instability in Gujarat was seen by the Estado as an opportunity. The Portuguese authorities rapidly adopted an ambiguous and pragmatic approach. The viceroy had discreet contacts with Muzaffar Khan, promising to support the rebellion against Mughal rule. At the same time, the Estado offered to help the widow and children of Qutbuddin Khan, who died while trying to stop the advance of the rebels.¹¹⁷

Montserrat remained in Goa, leaving Rodolfo Acquaviva as the only missionary operating at the Mughal court. The growing disappointment regarding the lack of progress of the Mughal mission led the Jesuit hierarchy to cancel the mission. Although the provincial, Ruy Vicente, considered that the mission was a ‘serious business of great importance’, the attack against Daman and the frequent skirmishes between Portuguese and Mughals in Surat suggested that Akbar’s intentions were dubious and the embassy an attempt to gain more time before opening hostilities with the Estado. Based on the reports and letters of the missionaries, Ruy Vicente believed that he had ‘clear evidence’ that Akbar’s interest in the Jesuit was only motivated by ‘reasons of state, in order to be able to negotiate his businesses with the viceroy’.¹¹⁸ Unsure of the intentions of the emperor, Ruy Vicente ordered the return of Rodolfo Acquaviva. After several letters from the provincial addressed to Akbar requesting the return to Goa of Rodolfo Acquaviva, the remaining missionary at the Mughal court, and his release, the emperor decided in 1583 to sign a firman allowing the return of the Italian missionary to the Estado, but asked the provincial to send Acquaviva back together with other missionaries, ‘with the least possible delay’, to resume the mission. The firman also mentioned that Akbar ‘said many things by word of mouth’ to Rodolfo Acquaviva that should be communicated to the provincial and which were ‘to be well considered’.¹¹⁹

IV

Upon his return to Goa in 1582, Montserrat drafted a brief report on Akbar and the Mughal Empire. Dated 26 November 1582, the Relaçam do Equebar, Rey dos Mogores (An account on Akbar, King of the Mughals) included information on Akbar’s policies and personality, a condensed overview of Mughal military practices, a short description of the organisation of the imperial court and administrative apparatus, as well as a summarised description of the main cities of the empire. The contents of the Relaçam suggest that this text was not only destined for the Jesuit hierarchy but above all for the Portuguese Crown. The report presented by Montserrat is very similar to the dispatches sent by Portuguese diplomatic agents and officials scattered across Asia and could be easily compared to the structure and aims of the relazioni produced by Venetian ambassadors.¹²⁰ Like the diplomatic reports sent to the Serenissima, Montserrat presented the Portuguese officials and Jesuit superiors in Goa with a concise but thorough description of the political, military, social and economic conditions of an expansionist power deemed by the Portuguese authorities as a potential threat to the Estado da Índia. Indeed, it is striking that the Relaçam does not mention the proselytising activities of Montserrat, Acquaviva or Henriques, focusing essentially on the emperor and his court and armies. The data provided by Montserrat sought thus to assist both the Jesuit hierarchy and the Portuguese authorities to define their strategies vis-à-vis the Mughal Empire. The Relaçam identifies, for example, the main courtiers and describes how Akbar worked and the procedures of the Mughal administration, allowing the Portuguese officials to have an idea of how the Mughal polity operated in their administrative and diplomatic dealings, as well as identify relevant actors in the court and administration.

Most of the information provided by Montserrat looked at two key events of 1581 and 1582. The first was Akbar’s campaign in Afghanistan. The other, the difficulties faced by the Mughal authorities in suppressing the rebellions in Gujarat and Bengal, two strategic regions for the economic and geopolitical interests of the Estado da Índia. These rebellions, as Montserrat suggested, were not only caused by the rejection of Mughal rule by the populations of two recently annexed territories, but also instigated by the apparent opposition of some members of the imperial elite to Akbar’s religious policies and interest in Christianity.

The Relaçam was particularly concerned in exposing Akbar’s power and wealth. Mughal India is presented as a vast territory rich in natural resources and well-connected with the main trade routes of Asia. Akbar’s fiscal machinery was thus able to extract ‘large revenues’ from commodities produced in the Mughal provinces or imported from abroad. These included, as Montserrat briefly listed, ‘many drugs, spices, precious stones, all kinds of metals, pearls, perfumes, cloths, carpets, embroideries, velvets, cotton-cloths, and many horses from Persia and Tartary’.¹²¹

Montserrat also identified the mansabdari system as a key element of the economic apparatus of the Mughal empire, as well as an instrument that affirmed the emperor’s authority. Although the Relaçam does not dwell much on the organisational features of the system, Montserrat presents the mansabdars as a sort of leasing system that allowed the emperor both to control the local elites, by reinforcing their financial dependence on the emperor, and ensure the presence of the imperial apparatus at different regional and local levels. Another important element of Mughal economic and political power was the subjugation of several South Asian rulers who became tributary clients or were absorbed by the Mughal polity. The Relaçam highlights, for example, that at the Mughal court there were ‘twenty gentile vassal chieftains (regulos), some of them great lords like the king of Calicut, not to mention others who are not in the court and pay tributes’.¹²²

The social divisions of the Mughal urban landscape are also mentioned by Montserrat:

the houses of the Moors, especially those of the wealthy and honoured, are very beautiful inside and have many pools and gardens, and the Brahmins and other wealthy gentiles also have good houses. The common people (gente popular) live in houses made from mud, huts (palhassas), and indeed if one sees one [Mughal] city there is little to see in the others.¹²³

Regarding the ethnic and religious diversity of the empire, Montserrat mentions that the court and the administration were formed by several groups and that Akbar trusted in the loyalty and efficiency of the ‘Hindustani and gentiles’, and it was thanks to the involvement of the Hindu elites in the imperial administration and courtly life that the Hindus did not rebel against the emperor.¹²⁴

This Relaçam do Equebar served as the seed of the Commentarius and was the first detailed European account on the Mughal Empire based on first-hand observation. Montserrat’s report would also influence other works on the empire of the Great Mughal. In 1597, the Italian Jesuit Giovanni Battista Peruschi published the Informatione del regno et stato del Gran Re di Mogor, a work that was largely based on Montserrat’s Relaçam do Equebar. Peruschi re-organised the work of the Catalan Jesuit and added letters from the members of the second and the third mission to it. French translations of the Informatione were published in Besançon in 1597 and Paris in 1598. In the same year, German and Latin translations would also be published in Mainz. Amador Rebelo referred to the materials used by Peruschi for his collection of missionary letters, the Compendio de algumas cartas (1598). Four years later, in 1601, Luis de Guzmán used Montserrat’s Relaçam, as well as the correspondence of the three missions to Mogor, in his Historia de las missiones.

Montserrat’s Relaçam was not only the main reference for Peruschi and Guzmán: it seemed to serve as a model for other important texts produced by subsequent missionaries stationed at the Mughal court. Other reports, such as Jerónimo Xavier’s Tratado da Corte e Caza de Jamguir Paxá or António Botelho’s Relação das Cousas Mais Notáveis que observei no Reino do Gran Mogol, followed the model of Montserrat’s work. Like the Relaçam, these were detailed surveys of the imperial family and household, the organisation of the court, the political rituals surrounding the emperors and the economic organisation of the empire, as well as its military structures. These were also works produced during critical moments in Luso-Mughal relations. Xavier’s Tratado was written between 1609 and 1611 while Philip III planned to send a Portuguese royal embassy to the Mughal court and Jahangir prepared a Mughal embassy to Goa. Botelho’s Relação, a lengthy and detailed account of the Mughal Empire during the final years of Shah Jahan’s reign, coincided with a period of increasing tension between Agra and Goa that was aggravated by the Mughal expansionist campaigns in the Deccan.

Like the Relaçam do Equebar, the Commentarius drew upon the ‘rough and casual notes’ written down by Montserrat during his days at the Mughal court.¹²⁵ According to Montserrat, the Jesuit provincial of Goa, Ruy Vicente, entrusted him with ‘the task of committing to writing everything that happened both during the journey and while we were staying with the king’. For two and a half years, Montserrat dutifully recorded the day-to-day events of the mission, as well as everything related to the Mughal world, which included, in his own words, the ‘the rivers, cities and countries which we saw; the custom, temples and religious usages of their inhabitants’.¹²⁶ The Commentarius is thus presented as a faithful account of a missionary’s personal experiences and observations based on a specific Jesuit methodology. It was a work that, following Polanco’s directives, sought to provide valid information about the geography, nature, socioeconomic life, political structures and religious beliefs of the populations of Mughal India.

One of the most valuable aspects of the Commentarius was the fact that Montserrat wanted to offer his readers important information about a territory that was not under Portuguese or European control. The Mughal Empire, like the Ottoman and Vijayangara empires, was a civilised, independent and threatening non-Christian society that due to its geo-strategic position and economic and military relevance needed to be studied in order to understand its development. In order to face Akbar and his empire, it was necessary to study its political rituals, the social, military and economic organisation of the empire and its religious and cultural life. It was also important to identify the main political actors, the intrigues of the court, the different factions and those who had access to the emperor’s inner circle. Hence the interest revealed by Montserrat in the figure of Akbar and the meticulous accounts of the main Mughal cities, not to mention the detailed descriptions of the military practices of the Mughal army during the Afghan campaign. In this way, the Commentarius should be analysed bearing in mind the role played by several Jesuit missionaries as political actors who actively participated in the European expansionist strategies in India.

As the main target of the mission, it is not surprising that Akbar emerges as the key character of the Commentarius. Montserrat was particularly interested in describing his intellectual curiosity, religious doubts, political intelligence and military prowess. Despite the failure to convert the emperor, the Commentarius presents Akbar in a rather favourable light as someone close to the ideal type of thumanist ruler, although tainted by his religion. There was probably a genuine affection between the Jesuits and the emperor. Montserrat mentions several times that Akbar was very affectionate towards the three missionaries, and that the emperor’s friendship often saved their lives.¹²⁷

According to the Commentarius, Akbar was very close to the ideal type of a good monarch. His physical features were a notorious mark of royal dignity. According to Montserrat, Akbar had ‘stature’ and ‘a type of countenance well-fitted to his royal dignity’.¹²⁸ Besides his ‘great majesty’ and good looks, Akbar used his body as a political statement based on the mixture of Muslim, Hindu, Persian, Central Asian and even European features. His hairstyle, according to Montserrat, was ‘a concession to Indian usages’, which was intended ‘to please his Indian subjects’.¹²⁹Montserrat mentions that unlike the orthodox Muslims, who followed an austere dress code, Akbar wore silks embroidered with gold and was also fond of European fashion.¹³⁰ Despite being illiterate, the Mughal emperor possessed considerable intellectual ability and was an enthusiastic patron of the arts and letters, a characteristic that made Akbar similar to European monarchs.¹³¹ Montserrat also highlights that Akbar was available to have audiences with all his subjects:

For he creates an opportunity almost every day for any of the common people or of the nobles to see him and converse with him; and he endeavours to show himself pleasant-spoken and affable rather than severe toward all who come to speak with him.¹³²

The Commentarius was also interested in the diplomatic policy of the Mughal emperor. Instead of describing the ritual reception of foreigner ambassadors or the diplomatic protocol adopted by the Mughal authorities, Montserrat mentions that Akbar received foreigners and strangers in a very different manner to how he treated his own countrymen and subordinates’.¹³³ The Mughal emperor was particularly kind and generous to foreign ambassadors or rulers who had been deposed and sought exile ‘and appeal[ed] to him for protection’.¹³⁴ Akbar often offered these rulers logistical, financial and military support under the condition they ‘shall employ only his own weights and measures and money coined by him’.¹³⁵ Diplomacy is therefore presented as another instrument used by the Mughal Empire to extend its political and military control of the subcontinent. The strategy of supporting minor potentates or exiled rulers to create a network of vassals was not unknown for the Portuguese Estado da Índia, which followed a similar approach. If minor potentates were received with generosity and treated with benevolence, the other main regional powers that competed with the Mughal Empire or threatened its interests had a more cautious and even hostile reception. To illustrate this case, Montserrat uses the example of one envoy from the Ottoman governor of Yemen who ‘vanished in a cloud of smoke’.¹³⁶

Akbar was also praised for personally supervising the administration of justice throughout the empire. The Catalan Jesuit meticulously described the emperor’s personal involvement in the execution of justice, noting he was ‘most stern with offenders against the public faith’, punishing with extreme violence crimes of adultery and debauchery.¹³⁷ The inclusion of information regarding how Akbar executed justice was intended to echo the Biblical tradition of the ideal monarch as someone who should ‘love justice and hates evil’ (Psalm 45, v. 6). The zeal with which the Mughal emperor executed justice, his benevolence towards minor rulers and his interest in maintaining harmony between the different ethnic and religious groups of his empire were attitudes that could be easily supported by the scholastic and humanist mirror of princes. For example, Giovanni Pontano’s vision that the ideal prince would be able to ‘uphold peace among his subjects and a well-balanced government’¹³⁸ could be easily illustrated by the portrait of Akbar presented by the Commentarius. The portrait made by Montserrat is also close to the Erasmian conception of the ideal Christian prince or monarch as a paterfamilias who governs his kingdom like a family, guaranteeing that his subjects are able to live together in harmony through good administration, kindness and protection.¹³⁹ By portraying Akbar according to the concepts related to the ideal type of a Christian ruler, Montserrat was able to suggest that the conversion of the emperor was possible, since he possessed the virtuous qualities of a Christian prince.

Akbar’s Timurid genealogy is another important element in Montserrat’s perception of the Mughal emperor. The links between Akbar and Timur were often explored by imperial propaganda. Timur was a figure whose political charisma derived not only from his expansionist feats, but also from a careful and pragmatic construction of an imperial identity that successfully combined diverse symbolic elements from the Turco-Mongol and Persianate worlds.¹⁴⁰ The artistic and literary patronage developed by Timur’s heirs would also cement Timurid prestige, establishing an imperial and cultural repertoire that would be claimed or manipulated by subsequent Islamic powers such as the Ottomans, the Uzbeks and the Safavids, besides the Mughals.¹⁴¹ Akbar, like his predecessors Babur and Humayun, referred to his Timurid ancestry to reinforce his imperial authority, legitimise expansionist claims and bolster his prestige across a Eurasian Islamicate arena in which cultural and political models that often originated from Timurid practices circulated.¹⁴² Throughout his reign, Akbar constantly exploited his links to Timur. The imperial seal, for example, evoked the Timurid genealogy of the Mughal imperial family, a legitimating strategy continued by Jahangir, Shah Jahan and Aurangzeb.¹⁴³ Akbar also commissioned works such as the Chinguiznama and the Timurnama to establish a direct connection between him and the figures of Genghis Khan and Timur.¹⁴⁴ These ancestral links are also repeatedly emphasised by other works of Akbari propaganda such as Abu’l Fazl’s Akbarnama or the Tarikh-i-Alfi, a collective work that chronicled the history of the first Islamic millennium.

This political and intellectual context seems to have influenced Montserrat’s perception of Akbar. The final pages of the Commentarius are dedicated to the emperor’s genealogical line and, following the Akbari propaganda, trace the origins of the Mughal imperial family to Timur and Genghis Khan. Montserrat tends to present these pages as part of his effort to update or extend the existing European knowledge on Central and South Asia. It should also be noted Timur was a historical figure explored by European plays and chronicles often based on imprecise information.¹⁴⁵ However, albeit the apparent intention to ‘correct, elucidate, and conciliate’, Montserrat’s foray into the genealogical past of the Mughal imperial family echoed Akbar’s efforts to affirm his imperial authority through an appropriation of Timurid and Mongol attributes. The final pages of the Commentarius can thus be regarded as a sort of byproduct of Mughal imperial propaganda destined for European eyes.

Montserrat’s more positive image of Akbar contrasted with Alessandro Valignano’s views of South Asian rulers as ‘tyrants’, or princes and lords ‘who rule many lands and many peoples, and who could kill their vassals and do whatever they want with them’, rulers whose actions were motivated by the lack of ‘any law and conscience’, forcing their subjects to live in poverty.¹⁴⁶ This negative depiction of South Asian rulers was related to the frustrations of the Jesuits in converting Gentiles and Moors, as well as the dissimilarities between European and Indian culture. Valignano, an Italian aristocrat, educated at the prestigious University of Padua and well connected to the European political and religious elites, was—due to his social background, senior position at the Society of Jesus and distance towards the South Asian elites (especially when compared with his contacts with Japanese and Chinese societies)—more inclined to have a negative view of South Asian rulers than Montserrat, a member of the Catalan lower nobility who did not have a sophisticated academic background and who have developed a close rapport with the Mughal elites. Indeed, the positive qualities of Akbar, and their apparent resemblance to the ideal type of a Christian prince, were probably a reflection of the personal sympathy that Montserrat had for the Mughal emperor.

However, Montserrat did not reject Valignano’s vision of South Asian rulers as tyrants entirely. Despite his physical and intellectual qualities, the fact that Akbar was a Muslim ruler forced Montserrat to admit the emperor’s virtues lacked ‘the lustre of the True Faith’.¹⁴⁷ Islam was a factor that impeded Akbar from reaching a true state of perfection. For the Catalan missionary, the Mughal emperor, as other Muslim rulers, was inclined towards Machiavellian attitudes, something Montserrat claimed the experience of the Jesuits at the Mughal court confirmed. The experience of the missionaries suggested that ‘no reliance must be put on the oath of a Musulman, since Muhammad himself teaches that it is lawful to swear falsely to an enemy’.¹⁴⁸

The experience of the Jesuit missionaries as mediators between the Estado and Akbar had revealed that the emperor’s overtures towards Philip II were part of a dissimulative strategy, or in Montserrat’s own words ‘a hypocritical and malicious pretence’.¹⁴⁹ As an example of the malice of the emperor, Montserrat reveals that the Mughal attack against the Portuguese port of Daman was planned by Akbar, although he had denied any kind of involvement when he spoke with the Jesuit missionaries.¹⁵⁰ It was also suggested that the presence of the Jesuit missionaries at the Mughal court was not motivated by religious purposes but rather by Akbar’s desire to promote his image in Europe. Indeed, after the missionaries presented their congratulations for the emperor’s successful campaign in Afghanistan, Akbar was particularly pleased since ‘being very greedy of glory, he hoped […] his fame would reach Spain’.¹⁵¹

Although Montserrat did not possess a comprehensive knowledge of warfare, his embedment with Akbar’s army during the Afghan campaign allowed him to collect interesting information on the Mughal military’s modus operandi. The information presented by the Catalan Jesuit had an obvious interest for the Portuguese authorities. The Mughal conquest of Gujarat and the Deccan was perceived by the Estado da Índia as a high risk to the integrity of its territories. An eventual Mughal attack against port cities such as Daman, Diu or Chaul was a very plausible scenario, and to impede the success of a Mughal incursion into Portuguese dominions it was necessary to gather all sorts of intelligence regarding the Mughal military machine.

According to the Commentarius, for the Afghan campaign Akbar was able to mobilise 50,000 cavalry units, 500 fighting elephants and camels, and a ‘countless number of infantry’.¹⁵² This large and powerful army operated in a highly disciplined fashion.Another important characteristic of the Mughal military machine was its multi-ethnic composition. Montserrat presents Akbar’s army as a multinational corps formed by Persians, Turkmen, Chagatais, Uzbeks, Pashtuns, Gujuratis, Rajputs, Pathans and Baloch. Besides reflecting the diversity of the Mughal Empire, this multinational element allowed the Mughals to draw upon different military practices that characterised the different ethnic groups. The fact that Akbar was able to arrange a large and highly skilled army that represented all the peoples who lived in his empire, as the Commentarius observed, was the reason ‘why no one dared raise a hand against Akbar, or to contrive his death, even though he was reckoned an infamous outlaw by the Musalmans’.¹⁵³ The ethnic and religious diversity of the Mughal army is presented by Montserrat as one of the main reasons for the authority and power of Akbar, as well as an essential element in the social and political stability of the Mughal Empire. The use of elephants and camels by the Mughals in their military activities impressed the Catalan Jesuit. For several pages, the Commentarius praises the intelligence of elephants and their obedience and capacity to execute many functions, stating that ‘they are ready to do anything that they are told by their keepers’.¹⁵⁴

Apart from the use of more or less exotic animals, Montserrat highlights the fact that the Mughal military capacity relied on a complex system of vassalage. The mansabdari system is briefly described by the Commentarius as an administrative and military system in which the emperor took ‘great care in the assignment of territories to grant to each noble a district large enough to enable him to maintain due state and dignity, and to support properly his share of military forces’.¹⁵⁵Montserrat was particularly concerned with exposing the fragilities of the system. Although Akbar was the lord of all the territories of his empire, and the commander-in-chief of the imperial army, the Commentarius noted that ‘most of the troops have their own generals and officers, to whom they are attached (…) by a hereditary allegiance’.¹⁵⁶ The hereditary allegiances of the soldiers and the military power of the mansabdaris became thus a factor of political instability that offered ‘plentiful occasions and opportunities for conspiracies and treason’.¹⁵⁷ To reduce the risk of treasonable acts, and ensure the activities of the mansabdaris were always monitored, the high-rankings members of the judicial and administrative apparatus were appointed by the emperor himself.¹⁵⁸Montserrat’s observations and brief comments on the mansabdari system were of considerable interest for the Estado da Índia, since they suggested that the Portuguese authorities could explore this intricate and complex system of vassalage.

Following a similar approach to the accounts written by merchants, which were essentially concerned with describing goods, markets and trade routes, Montserrat mentions the merchandises and crafts available in the main Mughal cities in some detail, as well as the trade routes that linked the Mughal markets to those of other regions, especially that of Central Asia (a market of great interest to the Portuguese but little explored by them).

Although a product of the textual and record-keeping practices developed by the Jesuits, Montserrat wrote an account that was intended to reach a readership beyond the Society of Jesus: a work that targeted a vast audience of European scholars who were humanist cosmographers—often armchair ones—interested in the geography and natural history of Asia. The Commentarius, however, was never published or sent to Lisbon, Madrid or Rome. The work was only discovered in 1906 by the Reverend W.K. Firminger, while he was exploring the rare books collection of the library of St Paul’s Cathedral in Calcutta.¹⁵⁹ The Latin text was edited by Henry Hosten and published in 1914 by the Asiatic Society of Bengal.¹⁶⁰ The reasons for the disappearance of Montserrat’s opus are unknown. The most plausible explanation for the strange disappearance of this text resides in the fact that when Montserrat concluded the Commentarius in 1591, the Mughal Empire was no longer an attractive mission field for the Society of Jesus. The frustration caused by the Mughal mission contrasted with the success of the Jesuit missions in China and, especially, Japan—two cases that contributed to the growing prestige and reputation of the Jesuits as the leading religious order of the Counter-Reformation. Against this backdrop, the Commentarius lost its propaganda value and became the chronicle of a disappointment, although its main aim was to produce an account that would support the activities developed by the first mission and highlight the geopolitical importance of the Mughal Empire for the Portuguese Crown and the Catholic Church. Indeed, Montserrat attempted to refute the perception of the first mission as a failure. By writing a more comprehensive account of the Mughal Empire, Montserrat sought to present a new narrative that highlighted some achievements in what was a difficult mission field. In this way, it is possible to relate the production of the Commentarius to the attempts made by the Portuguese authorities to compel the Society of Jesus to resume the Mogor mission, due to the important role previously played by the missionaries as intermediaries between Goa and the Great Mughal. Indeed, in 1591, after several instances of pressure from the Estado da Índia and Akbar, the Society of Jesus would organise a second mission.