Among the rulers of the Delhi Sultanate, Muhammad bin Tughlaq (r. 1325–1351) stands out as one of the most enigmatic and intellectually ambitious sovereigns. A man of remarkable erudition, vision, and administrative zeal, he embarked upon a series of radical experiments aimed at strengthening the state and expanding its resources. His reign was marked by unprecedented state initiatives, ranging from monetary reforms and agrarian experiments to administrative reorganization and military expeditions. Driven by a desire to centralize authority and improve governance, Muhammad bin Tughlaq’s policies were often bold, innovative, and conceptually ahead of their time.
However, many of these undertakings, though impressive in their intent, proved disastrous in execution. Historians have long debated whether his failures were the result of poor implementation, inadequate administrative support, or a fundamental disconnect between vision and ground realities. Nevertheless, his reign remains a fascinating study in medieval statecraft—one where idealism collided with pragmatism, and ambition outpaced infrastructure.
This article examines the key projects undertaken by Muhammad bin Tughlaq, exploring their objectives, execution, and outcomes, and assessing their broader impact on the political and economic landscape of the Delhi Sultanate.
Table of Contents
Transfer Of Capital
The transfer of capital by Sultan Muhammad bin Tughluq to Devagiri (renamed Daulatabad) has been a subject of historical debate, primarily due to conflicting contemporary accounts and differing interpretations by historians. One of the major sources of confusion arises from the biased accounts of writers like Barani, who claimed that the Sultan chose Devagiri because of its geographical centrality in the empire, being equidistant from Delhi, Gujarat, Bengal, Tilang, Ma’bar, Dorsamudra, and Kampila. However, this claim lacks geographical accuracy and likely served a rhetorical purpose to justify the Sultan’s administrative experiment.
Ibn Battuta, who arrived in India five years after the capital transfer, attributed the move to the Sultan’s reaction against anonymous abusive letters allegedly written by Delhi’s residents. While he mentioned that the Sultan provided housing at government expense for the relocated population, this suggests the move was more a consequence of administrative planning than a punitive measure. Isami, on the other hand, argued that the Sultan harbored distrust toward the people of Delhi and sought to weaken their influence by forcibly relocating them, highlighting a narrative of enmity between ruler and subject.
Strategically, the decision was motivated by the need to suppress repeated rebellions in the Deccan, especially after Bahauddin Gurshasp’s revolt. While Ujjain was initially considered, Devagiri was ultimately chosen due to its military significance and praise by figures like Amir Khusrau. The long-standing difficulty Delhi Sultans faced in controlling the Deccan further underscores that the decision was not abrupt.
Historian Muhammad Habib sheds light on the Sultan’s administrative reforms. He notes that Alauddin Khalji had earlier extracted wealth from the Deccan without annexing territory. In contrast, Sultan Mubarak Shah altered this policy by dethroning the Yadavas of Devagiri and distributing their lands among minor Muslim officials called Sad Amirs (commanders of 100 troops), responsible for revenue collection and local control. These officials formed the only Muslim presence in Devagiri, while the surrounding Hindu rulers retained power despite loss of prestige. The Sultan feared their potential unity, which could threaten Muslim authority across regions like Rajputana and Malwa.
To strengthen his hold over the south, Muhammad bin Tughluq launched another campaign against Warangal. Although he failed during his father’s reign, his second attempt succeeded. Like in Devagiri, Warangal was divided among the Sad Amirs. Nonetheless, local resistance persisted, and many doubted that northern rule in the south would last beyond a decade. The broader success of Islam in India had historically hinged on the ability of rulers to accommodate local populations.
Religious and demographic changes also played a role. The Mongol invasions of Central Asia drove many refugees to India, boosting the Islamic population. Additionally, Sufi movements like the Chisti and Suhrawardi orders facilitated conversions, especially among lower castes seeking social mobility—supporting the consolidation of the Sultanate.
Muhammad Tughluq envisioned creating a flourishing social and economic hub in the Deccan. Influenced by liberal thinkers like Sheikh Fariduddin, he hoped the prosperous residents of Delhi could help establish Islamic culture and prosperity in the south. Strategically, the shift to the Deccan reflected a broader political and economic realignment, as the north, particularly Punjab, weakened under Mongol pressure. Ultimately, the move aimed to centralize power closer to rebellion-prone regions like Bengal and Ma’bar, underscoring political necessity over personal whim.
Implementation of the Transfer
The transfer of the capital by Sultan Muhammad bin Tughluq from Delhi to Devagiri (renamed Daulatabad) was executed in a carefully planned yet ultimately flawed and unpopular manner. The relocation was implemented in stages to reduce public hardship. Yahiya Sirhindi notes that the Sultan built rest houses every two miles along the route from Delhi to Daulatabad, granted land to local inhabitants, and used its revenue to fund their salaries. Trees were planted along the road, and arrangements were made for food, shelter, and water distribution. Initially, the Sultan’s family, nobles, and their attendants were relocated, followed by scholars, ulemas, Syeds, and Sheikhs. Though Isami claimed the move was forced, Yahiya emphasized government support and incentives such as free accommodation and food.
In Daulatabad, a new city named Qubbatul Islam was developed. The city was divided into multiple wards for different social classes—troops, officers, judges, scholars, and religious figures—with each ward independently equipped with necessary infrastructure like mosques, madrasas, bathhouses, and kitchens. However, the construction could not be completed even in six years due to the scale of the project.
Contrary to popular belief, not all Delhi residents were relocated. Evidence from Sanskrit inscriptions dated 1327–1328 indicates that ordinary Hindus continued living in Delhi peacefully. It was primarily the elite—nobles, scholars, and religious figures—who were shifted, likely to establish the administrative and spiritual core of the new capital.
Despite logistical efforts, the move had significant cultural costs. Delhi, a spiritual and cultural hub for over a century, suffered the loss of its religious communities. The forced migration disrupted centuries-old institutions like khankas (Sufi hospices), which were central to Delhi’s spiritual life. Poets and religious figures, including Amir Khusrau and Isami, expressed grief over the dislocation. A contemporary chronicler lamented that only funeral flames remained lit in Delhi’s buildings.
The relocation faced resistance from religious communities. These groups believed in waliat, the spiritual authority tied to a specific place determined by their pir-o-murshid (spiritual mentors). They viewed the Sultan’s order as an encroachment on their spiritual autonomy. While some, like Sheikh Nasiruddin Chirag, stayed behind enduring state pressure, many others were forcibly relocated. The Sultan’s conflation of noncompliance with rebellion led to brutal enforcement. According to Isami, those unwilling to move were dragged from their homes, tortured, and made to march in the scorching summer, resulting in widespread suffering and death.
Isami, though critical of the suffering, acknowledged the Sultan’s logistical arrangements—rest houses, shade trees, wells, and water services. Nonetheless, the transfer sparked widespread discontent. Contemporary sources like Barani and Isami criticized the move, while modern historians recognize it as a politically motivated strategy aimed at creating a southern administrative hub to better control Bengal and Ma’bar, especially amid Mongol invasions in Punjab.
Ultimately, the plan failed. The Sultan could not recreate Delhi’s cultural essence in Daulatabad. Religious leaders became alienated, many died from the journey’s physical and psychological toll, and the relocated elite struggled to adapt. The forced migration undermined the Sultan’s popularity and alienated the very spiritual elite he hoped to inspire, resulting in administrative failure and cultural loss.
Token Currency
A Revolutionary Failure
Among the ambitious reforms of Muhammad bin Tughlaq, the introduction of token currency in 1329–30 stands out for its boldness and controversy. Initiated shortly after the shift of the capital to Deogiri (Daulatabad), the Sultan’s attempt to introduce copper and brass coins with the same value as silver and gold was a revolutionary move, showcasing his innovative mind. Yet, it also exposed the administrative and infrastructural limitations of the time, leading to its swift collapse.
Renowned historian Dr. Ishwari Prasad noted that the craftsmanship of Muhammad bin Tughlaq’s coinage was unparalleled in artistic quality. However, his most radical monetary reform was the issuance of token currency—copper and brass coins assigned equal value to precious metals. While modern fiat currency makes this practice commonplace, in medieval India, it was an unfamiliar and poorly understood concept.
The idea was not without historical precedent. Kublai Khan had successfully introduced paper money (chan) in China in 1260, which remained in use until his death in 1294 and gained widespread acceptance. Chronicler Ziyauddin Barani cited this example to justify Tughlaq’s decision. However, another similar attempt by Qai Katu in Iran in 1294 failed within eight days, underscoring the risks of such policies without administrative strength and public trust.
Barani offered conflicting explanations for the Sultan’s motives. He attributed it partly to Muhammad bin Tughlaq’s imperial ambitions that required a large standing army and thus an expanded treasury. He also blamed the Sultan’s generous spending and lavish rewards for depleting the treasury, necessitating a substitute for silver and gold coins. However, this theory is disputed—when the scheme failed, the Sultan redeemed the token currency in precious metals, indicating that silver and gold reserves were not exhausted.
The principal reason for the failure was the Sultan’s inability to control counterfeiting. Barani famously wrote that “the house of every Hindu became a mint,” likely referring to skilled Hindu goldsmiths who mass-produced counterfeit coins. These fake coins flooded the market, causing rapid depreciation. Revenue officials in the countryside paid taxes with forgeries and used them to buy horses and weapons, deepening the financial chaos.
Eventually, the token currency lost all credibility, described by chroniclers as being “as worthless as stones and potsherds.” Trade and commerce suffered, prompting the Sultan to withdraw the currency. While genuine coins from royal mints were redeemed in silver and gold, the forgeries were not accepted and were reportedly dumped in heaps outside the fort—symbolic of the scheme’s collapse.
The use of brass and bronze in coinage was unprecedented among earlier Delhi Sultans. As Professor Muhammad Habib noted, these coins bore inscriptions in Persian and Arabic with distinctive marks. However, the public was largely unaware of these features, making it easy for counterfeit coins to circulate and undermining trust in the system.
Despite its potential—particularly during a global silver shortage, as shown by Tughlaq reducing the silver content in his tanka from 178 grains to 140—the scheme was abandoned by 1333. With no coins issued after 732 Hijri (1332–33), and no mention of it in Ibn Battutah’s account from 1334, the experiment swiftly faded from public memory.
Context and Background( Short Notes)
- Post-Deccan campaigns and administrative experiments, Muhammad bin Tughlaq attempted a radical monetary reform.
- In place of the silver tanka and copper jital, the Sultan introduced a bronze token coin (BIRANJ) that was declared to have the same value as the silver tanka.
Nature of the Symbolic Coin
- Terminology:
- Silver coin: Tanka
- Copper coin: Jital
- Symbolic/token coin: Bronze/brass coin, intended to replace silver coin in value.
- Metal and Script:
- Barani: The coin was made of copper.
- Ferishta: The coin was made of brass — this is supported by archaeological finds.
- Script:
- Arabic used in ordinary coins (usually with religious content).
- Persian used in symbolic coins with the inscription: “Issued during the reign of Muhammad Tughlaq.”
- No specific date/year was inscribed — indicating the coin’s value was not based on the intrinsic metal content but on the Sultan’s name and authority.
Philosophy Behind the Reform
- Symbolic currency was not novel:
- Kublai Khan (13th century China): Introduced paper money that was difficult to counterfeit and was backed by gold/silver exchange.
- Kaikhaus Khan (Iran): Similar attempt, but it failed.
- Muhammad bin Tughlaq’s motives:
- According to Barani: Extravagant grants, military campaigns (Khorasan, Karachil) led to treasury strain.
- However, later events suggest treasury was not empty, since gold and silver were given in exchange when the scheme failed.
- Likely causes include:
- Deficit of silver in India and possibly globally.
- Rising silver prices compared to gold.
- Decline in South Indian wealth (which previously supplied precious metals).
- Military expenditure and the costly decision to create a second capital at Devagiri.
- Expansion of mints and use of mixed metal coins with reduced precious metal content.
Implementation Strategy
- Government acceptance of symbolic coin for revenue and payments.
- Coins to be non-counterfeitable, requiring a robust policing system.
- Silver coins still to be used for foreign merchants and international trade.
- Provision for exchange of symbolic coin with silver if required.
Failures and Consequences
- Counterfeiting:
- Barani: Every Hindu household turned into a mint.
- Edward Thomas: Government used common tools to mint coins; hence easy to duplicate.
- Muhammad Habib: Disagreed slightly—claimed special alloy used that required specific stone/metallurgical knowledge not widely accessible.
- No unique minting feature or anti-counterfeit mechanism.
- Market flood of fake coins.
- Government unable to punish counterfeiters as many were not manufacturers.
- Eventually, Sultan ordered exchange of symbolic coins with good coins.
- Copied coins were stored at Tughluqabad, probably later melted.
- Many fake coins remained in provincial circulation, their value now linked to metal content.
Economic and Social Impact
- Silver coins hoarded, symbolic coins spent — led to depletion of silver circulation.
- Revenue payments made in symbolic coins, particularly by local chiefs like khuts and muqaddams — further intensified silver hoarding.
- Arms purchase was also made in symbolic coins, risking military preparedness.
- Foreign merchants rejected symbolic coins, leading to a decline in imports.
- Collapse of monetary trust forced the Sultan to withdraw the experiment.
Significance and Historical Evaluation
- One of the most ambitious monetary experiments in medieval India.
- Showed foresight and innovation, but lacked administrative preparedness and institutional checks.
- Highlights Muhammad bin Tughlaq’s pattern of visionary but poorly executed policies.
- Though modeled on Kublai Khan’s success, it failed due to:
- Lack of counterfeit prevention,
- Inadequate law enforcement, and
- Absence of public confidence.
Conclusion
Muhammad bin Tughlaq’s symbolic coinage represents a bold but flawed attempt at monetary reform. While rooted in economic necessity and inspired by global precedents, the lack of adequate administrative and technological support led to widespread failure, economic disruption, and erosion of public trust in the currency system.
The Khorasan and Iraq Expedition
Massive Mobilization and Intentions
- According to Barani, Muhammad bin Tughlaq mobilized a staggering 370,000 troops with the aim of conquering Khorasan and Iraq.
- The military was provided with cash salaries and iqta grants, and significant state resources were spent on arms and equipment.
- Salaries were disbursed for an entire year in the expectation that military conquest in the following year would yield sufficient plunder to offset this expenditure.
However, no expedition was ever launched. The army remained idle, and by the second year, the state had no means to pay them. This led to a financial crisis and mass unemployment among the soldiery.
Barani’s Critique and Allegations
- Barani, a court historian with proximity to the Sultan, termed the project as one of Muhammad’s “misdeeds.”
- He accused the Sultan of recklessly spending treasury funds after being misled by foreign adventurers who exaggerated the vulnerability of the Middle East.
- According to Barani, the Sultan’s credibility suffered, and control over internal affairs weakened as a consequence.
Amir Khurd’s Perspective and Religious Dimensions
- Amir Khurd details how Muhammad sought religious endorsement for a war against the descendants of Chenghiz Khan, framing it as a jihad.
- However, the Maulanas and Sufis of Delhi refused to sanction this.
- Many nobles from Iran and Iraq, already in India, convinced the Sultan of the feasibility of conquest, citing a power vacuum in the Middle East as the Mongol power had dissipated and Taimur had yet to rise.
Though the actual geographical target remains ambiguous, the expedition’s failure dealt a severe blow to the Sultan’s reputation and fiscal stability.
The Karachil Expedition
Geographical and Strategic Context
- Karachil, according to Ibn Battuta, lay about ten days’ journey from Delhi, covering the modern-day Kangra and Garhwal regions.
- Barani linked this expedition to the Khorasan project, stating that control over Karachil was necessary for access to the northwestern frontier. However, geographically, this connection is implausible.
Later writers like Ferishta claimed that the Sultan’s real aim was to conquer China, but this is not corroborated by contemporary sources and is thus not accepted by modern historians.
Military Campaign and Collapse
- The expedition was led by the Sultan’s nephew Khusrau Malik, with a force of 10,000 troops.
- Detailed logistical plans were made by the Sultan himself, including:
- Military posts for food supply.
- Restricted advancement, with orders to halt at Jidda.
- However, Khusrau Malik, emboldened by initial success, disobeyed and pushed toward Tibet, reminiscent of Bakhtiyar Khalji’s overreach in Bengal in the early 13th century.
Catastrophic Outcome
- Torrential rains, mountain sickness, and attacks by local hill tribes led to devastating losses.
- Barani states that only 10 soldiers returned, while Ibn Battuta claims that only three survived.
- Although the Sultan was not directly responsible for this overreach, the ultimate accountability rested with him.
Aftermath and Settlement
- A peace treaty was established with the Karachil tribes, who agreed to:
- Pay regular tribute to the Sultan.
- Seek permission to use foothill lands.
- According to Masalik-ul Absar, a contemporary text from Damascus, the people of Karachil became tributaries of the Delhi Sultanate.
Internal Disorder and Revolts
- In 1333, when Ibn Battuta reached Shewan, he noted the aftermath of a revolt led by two nobles who had killed the Hindu administrator Ratan, looted Rs. 10 lakh, and fled.
- A rebel leader named Qaiser Rumi was eventually defeated by Imadul Mulk Sartej, the administrator of Multan.
- The rebels’ bodies were hung from the walls of Shewan as a warning.
Broader Context: Crises of the 1330s
- While Muhammad bin Tughlaq expanded his empire beyond the size of Alauddin Khalji’s and initially controlled internal revolts efficiently, two major calamities marred this phase of his rule:
- A severe famine.
- A widespread epidemic, likely bubonic plague.
These compounded the failures of the military ventures and further alienated the population.
Conclusion
Muhammad bin Tughlaq’s expeditions to Khorasan and Karachil were marked by grand strategic vision but flawed execution. The mobilization of vast armies, financial overreach, and administrative miscalculations reflect the Sultan’s restless ambition and experimental temperament. While his intention to exploit regional instability and expand the Sultanate’s frontiers was not devoid of strategic logic, the lack of practical foresight, logistical planning, and regional understanding resulted in massive financial loss, popular disillusionment, and military humiliation.
These failed campaigns are not just isolated events but symptomatic of a broader pattern of ambitious but unsustainable reforms that ultimately weakened the Delhi Sultanate’s central authority.
Doab Project of Muhammad Bin Tughlaq
Muhammad bin Tughlaq stands out in the annals of the Delhi Sultanate as an ambitious and intellectually curious ruler whose reign was marked by a series of far-reaching experiments. Among his many policies, his agrarian reforms, particularly in the Doab region, merit close scrutiny for their scope, intent, and consequences.
In response to a devastating famine in the Doab between the Ganga and Yamuna rivers around 1334-35, Muhammad bin Tughlaq launched a direct state intervention into agricultural production. His vision was to transform the Doab into a region of economic prosperity, aligning with his broader aspiration of establishing a strong, centralized state with an abundant and reliable revenue base.
The first and most notable measure was the declaration of an increase in the land revenue demand in the Doab, which was abruptly raised from the prevailing 1/10 to 1/2 of the produce. This dramatic hike appears to have been driven more by imperial ambition than by any empirical assessment of the region’s agrarian capacity. The abruptness of the hike—without prior survey or assessment—was met with immediate hostility. Both peasants and landlords resisted this expropriatory rate, plunging the region into chaos. Faced with mass non-compliance and rebellion, the Sultan unleashed a brutal military campaign that devastated the countryside, resulting in widespread depopulation and desertion.
Recognizing the failure of the revenue hike and its violent enforcement, Muhammad bin Tughlaq sought to remedy the situation by introducing a scheme for agricultural improvement. This policy shift reflected a significant conceptual leap: the state, rather than remaining a passive extractor of taxes, assumed an active role in agricultural production. The Sultan dispatched officials to distribute loans (taqavi) for the purchase of seeds, bullocks, and implements. He also arranged for grain storage, and under this scheme, a substantial sum of 70 lakh tankas was allocated.
However, this program too was marred by its execution. The officials entrusted with administering the loans were corrupt and unqualified. Many embezzled funds or levied additional bribes, thereby compounding the peasants’ misery. Moreover, the officials sent to oversee agrarian development often lacked any substantive knowledge of farming or local conditions. Consequently, the program failed to yield any meaningful agricultural revival and further alienated the rural population.
The Doab reforms, in both phases—the coercive revenue hike and the conciliatory agrarian loans—were marked by poor planning, inadequate supervision, and corrupt implementation. Muhammad bin Tughlaq’s schemes were visionary in their intent, envisioning a proactive, welfare-oriented state. But they failed due to an absence of administrative preparedness, a lack of realism, and insufficient institutional mechanisms for implementation.
Ibn Battuta, who visited the Delhi Sultanate during Muhammad’s reign, notes that despite his intelligence and extensive learning, the Sultan’s reign was characterized by impractical policies that led to hardship for the people. Similarly, Barani criticizes the Sultan’s lack of consistency, often noting how the failure of one policy would be followed by an equally ambitious and ill-conceived replacement.
In conclusion, Muhammad bin Tughlaq’s agrarian reforms, especially those in the Doab, reflect the perils of idealism divorced from pragmatism. While the Sultan deserves credit for envisioning a model of direct state participation in agrarian development—a concept far ahead of his time—his inability to translate these visions into effective governance rendered them futile. His reign serves as a poignant historical example of how visionary reforms can degenerate into disaster when unaccompanied by competent administrative machinery and local engagement.
‘Diwan-i-Amir-i-Kohi
One of the most striking agrarian initiatives undertaken by Muhammad bin Tughlaq was the establishment of the Diwan-i-Amir-i-Kohi, an institution that epitomized the Sultan’s vision of state-led agricultural reform. Conceived after his return from the ill-fated expedition to Swarga-dwar (in the Deccan), the project reflected his commitment to both territorial expansion of cultivation and agronomic improvement.
The Diwan-i-Amir-i-Kohi was tasked with the development of a designated area measuring 30 kroh by 30 kroh—approximately 100 km by 100 km—a considerable tract intended to become a model agricultural zone. Muhammad bin Tughlaq’s ambition was so grand that he envisioned that “not one span of land would remain uncultivated.” The objective, however, was not to reclaim land that was naturally barren or saline (usar), but rather to bring banjar—wasteland with potential for cultivation—under productive use. This subtle but crucial distinction is misrepresented by Barani, who claimed the Sultan sought to cultivate even the unusable usar tracts.
The scheme had two complementary goals. Firstly, to expand the cultivated area; and secondly, to enhance the quality of existing agriculture by introducing superior crop varieties. In Barani’s words, the aim was to replace barley with wheat, wheat with sugarcane, and sugarcane with grapes and dates—each a step up in terms of yield or market value. This agronomic upgrade would not only increase productivity but also boost state revenue from land taxation, aligning the scheme with the fiscal logic of the Sultanate.
To execute this ambitious vision, the Sultan appointed 100 shiqadars, endowing them with horses, honours, and substantial financial resources. These officers were responsible for extending agricultural loans (sondhar) to farmers, thereby facilitating cultivation and crop improvement. Barani records that a sum of 70 lakh tankas was disbursed for this purpose, while Afif, writing during the reign of Firuz Tughlaq, estimates the expenditure at an even higher two crore tankas.
Despite its noble intentions and generous funding, the project met with complete failure. Barani’s assessment is scathing: in three years, he claims, not even a hundredth or thousandth part of the target area was brought under cultivation. The principal reason, he argues, was the incompetence and corruption of the officials appointed. Describing them as “greedy, impecunious men, without hope of salvation,” Barani condemns their lack of administrative ability and ignorance of local agrarian conditions. Instead of using state funds for loans to cultivators, they squandered the money on personal expenses, undermining the entire scheme.
In retrospect, the failure of the Diwan-i-Amir-i-Kohi reveals a pattern common to many of Muhammad bin Tughlaq’s experiments: lofty ideals defeated by flawed execution. The Sultan’s vision was undoubtedly progressive—aimed at state-sponsored agrarian expansion and innovation—but the absence of capable and honest administrators, along with a lack of understanding of rural socio-economic dynamics, doomed the experiment to failure. Nonetheless, it remains an important chapter in the history of medieval Indian agrarian policy, indicative of an early attempt at state-driven economic planning.
Secondary Sources I have used To write this post
- Satish Chandra – Medieval India: From Sultanat to the Mughals
- THE SULTANATE OF DELHI(1206-1526) Polity, Economy, Society and Culture
ANIRUDDHA RAY - Mohammad Habib and K.A. Nizami (Eds.) – A Comprehensive History of India, Vol. V
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