Bibliophiles have a penchant for cataloguing their books into genres viz. fiction, non-fiction, historical-fiction etc. yet if one truly reads enough, one shall unravel that the only distinction between fiction and reality is that the former has limits to its presumptuousness. Fiction, by compulsion, must seem possible but reality doesn't carry such an encumbrance to its imagination, ergo, sometimes verity is more surreal than an outright lie.
The fact that a bunch of rogue traders reached a distant land in the 18th C, commenced trading there, availed themselves of opportunities provided sometimes by sheer luck and other times by enterprise, subjugated native populations numbering million, created the biggest capitalist and imperialistic organization in the world which employed only 35 permanent employees (even after 100 years since its incorporation in 1600) and had its office ensconced 8000 km away from the place of action, appears to be one such fiction plot running amok. However, even more phantasmagorical than this unfortunate reality of the ruthless British colonialism are the stories of the men on spot whose gumption and "sub-imperialism" led to this all.
And what could be more boisterous than a reality set against the backdrop of the "great game" and the search for a lost city with characters ranging from Alexander, the great to and an East India Company deserter.
Bamiyan Buddhas, before they were blown apart in religious frenzy by Taliban, had always enticed historians around the world. They were subjects of many archaeological missions not only because these giant Buddhas were an architectural marvel but also because they are evident of the fact that Afghanistan, a nation which is today in the throes of an extremist Islamic ideology, was once a Buddhist stronghold. One such mission was being carried out from two French archaeologists in 1924. Having gingerly clambered down to a cave above the head of the 55m tall Bamiyan Buddha, the Frenchmen were exhilarated. It would have been no small achievement to be the first Europeans to have set foot in such an esoteric yet remarkable place at the cross-roads of Asia. However, this was not to be. The joy proved fugacious as they found the following words scratched onto the cave wall:
If any fool this high samootch (a local word for "cave") explore,
Know Charles Masson has been here before
Today, you can find monuments throughout the Indian subcontinent, besmirched by love messages from romantics who vie to paint their love messages in the most secluded parts of these remnants of history, but Masson shouldn't be confused with these. And though he can be called a romantic, yet his was no small love. His convoluted life is a testament to his obsessive love which eventually consumed him to the core and just like in case of true love, it is impossible to extricate facts from his fiction and vice versa. Whims of other men and vagaries of time gave such turns to his life that even the most egregious plot holes may seem tractable and the whole tragedy lies in the fact that his tortuous plot was, to most extent, a reality.
Bamiyan Buddhas in 1832
It was 4th of July 1827 when one day Private James Lewis, aged 27 years old and serving Bengal Artillery, decided that he couldn't take any more of the mundane regimented life and decided to absquatulate from the army. Despite his upbringing in a poor and dangerous London neighborhood, Lewis proved to be a precocious young man. As a way out of his poverty, he enlisted in the British East India Company's army and came to India at young age of 21. During these 6 years in the army, he learnt Latin and Greek and read as many books as he could. Yet, the most intellectual task that EIC's army could give him was to arrange butterflies for a zoology fiend superior. EIC's was to a large extent an elitist army where top positions were reserved for men who had connexion in higher echelons of the British society and Lewis had none. So one day, having exhausted his will to continue any longer, he decided to quit. However, quitting the army was not easy. Native deserters were often bound to the cannon mouth and exploded into smithereens to set an example. English deserters could meet a less gory but certain death by court martial. Moreover, EIC spies could easily find a grey-eyed, red-haired Feringi who didn't know the local languages well by the end of the day. Yet somehow, enough courage was mustered and Lewis left Bengal Artillery's garrison in Agra for frontier towns where he couldn't be caught. As expected, before the dusk struck, messages had reached far and wide about how two Englishmen (Lewis had a co-deserter named Richard Potter, but his life is a tale for some other day) were missing. Delhi was hence forbidden and the only way to survive was through the wilderness of the Great Indian Thar desert. Many things changed for Lewis on that day including his name. James Lewis now became Charles Masson. From that day onwards, there would be no Lewis, only Masson.
Thar desert, an insufferably torrid place where life even today is a rarity, was survived somehow but this was not even the tip of the iceberg. Before Masson had even crossed the wilderness, rumors had reached the Khan of Ahmadpur (in modern day Pakistan) that two disheveled Feringis are approaching his kingdom. It was believed that they must be servants of the EIC carrying some crucial message and hence courtiers were sent to welcome them and bring the message. Though the courtiers were disappointed to have found that the two Feringis carried no message with them, there was a third westerner in the town of Ahmadpur who was waiting for this exact moment.
Josiah Harlan, the third-westerner, was an American who wanted to be king. The peculiarities of Harlan's life can only be matched with that of Masson's. Harlan was a proud American Quaker whose father secured him a job on a merchant ship bound for China. Harlan learnt the trade quickly and started earning well. He went back to America and fell in love. He and his lady love agreed they would marry after he comes back from one more voyage. However, when Harlan's ship reached Calcutta, a letter from his fiancée was waiting for him. She had written to tell Harlan that she had married someone else. Duped in love, Harlan deboarded at Calcutta to achieve his dream of becoming a king. Without any training, except from dressing bruises of sailors and crew at sea, he insinuated himself as a surgeon in the EIC's army during its invasion of Burma. Soon, Harlan left that job and after many twists and turns, somehow, ended up in Ludhiana. There he met Shah Shuja, the exiled king of Afghanistan, and vowed to restore him back to the throne by defeating the usurper king Dost Mohammad. Harlan was busy recruiting his militia army in Ahmadpur just for this purpose. Besides that, just this morning, some EIC agents had asked Harlan to keep an eye out for two EIC Bengal artillery deserters.
Harlan called the two deserters in his camp and soon both parties could see through each other. Harlan understood that Masson was Lewis and Lewis sensed that Harlan knew enough. However, rather than selling them to EIC, Harlan sought to use their military expertise (which was very lacking in his rag tag militia) to his benefit. The hapless deserters knew that they couldn't resist and soon Masson was again soldiering, though in a different army.
Masson along with Harlan's militia left Ahmadpur for Dera Ismail Khan (in mod. day Pakistan). During the march, Harlan blabbered about a lot of things but one thing in particular that aroused Masson's attention was Harlan's talk about Alexander. The great Macedonian hero has been ensnaring people as well as cultures for long enough. Almost all the cultures in the world have apocryphal fables surrounding him. His momentous victories, his birth as well as his death continue to be enigmas and these mysteries have ensnared many a men, sometimes even fatally. Harlan and Masson were no different men. Masson's study of classics had made him revere Alexander and from now on his would be a life devoted to the truths, legends and myths of the great conqueror. The only thing that would differentiate Harlan from Masson was that though their ends were same, their means were evidently different. Harlan was obsessed with the Alexander because he considered himself to be Alexander of his age but Masson's interest in Alexander was due to Alexander's legacy : the Alexandrias. Alexander founded many eponymous cities en route his expedition but unfortunately, the exact locations of all Alexandrias are now cities lost to time. As we move further in the story, we shall see that the quest for one such Alexandria- Alexandria in the Caucuses- would define Masson's life.
When the militia group reached Dera Ismail Khan, Harlan's force had swelled up to a hundred and soon got the opportunity for its first action. Harlan set his eyes on a nearby hill fortress "Takht-i-Sulaiman" (the seat of Solomon). Harlan thought that bribing a few guards and then inciting the fortress army would do the trick. Soon Harlan had a brainwave. The first American to set foot in Pakistan and Afghanistan, devised a plan to foment rebellion among the fortress army in the name of "jihad" against their own commander. However, the mutiny plan was abortive. When Harlan woke up the next day, many of his men, including Masson, had deserted the camp and the fortress guards were asking for more bribes. Harlan flew into a rage and called everyone names and had to abandon his nation-building program. Harlan would go on to do many remarkable and dubious things including hoisting the star-spangled banner on the top of Hindu Kush and becoming the "Prince of Ghor" and there would be many intersections between his and Masson's life, but his life is a story for another time.
From Dera Ismail Khan to Afghanistan was a circuitous journey in which Masson was robbed of everything including his clothes, once some Afghani robbers were about to enslave him but he luckily survived. Lack of knowledge of local language and customs further exacerbated his problems. However, soon after such encounters, Masson started understanding one thing: the art of illusions.
Afghanistan is, even today, a land of illusion where nothing sells like an incredible story. Masson on his way to Kabul was once told a story of a Mohammad Shah Khan, a local weaver who rose one morning and fancied himself becoming badshah of Delhi. He took his musket, shot a few men and soon the men in the surrounding villages understood that he meant business. Crowds soon began coming to his side and he mounted an attack against the king of Kabul. It didn't take him long to capture Kabul and Khan could be dislodge only next summer by a bigger army. The story bears a simple pith: with luck on your side, everything in possible in Afghanistan. Afghan society hasn't changed much since Masson's time. The great games are still being played, the age-old tribal customs are still extant and magical realism is still being played on the roads of Afghanistan. Kabul is still the city where rulers, loyalties and lives can change before you can tell.
Baptized by fire, Masson understood this very fact. Now, he was no longer a hapless Feringi on the roads of Afghanistan. Someday he was a Haji , some day a Sayyid and other days even an Afghan prince. However, what kept him going all through days was Alexander. Masson had now made it a mission to tell Alexander's story, to separate the reality from myth, to find the lost city of Alexandria of Caucuses. Such was his obsession, that in search of a lost city he ignored one of the greatest civilization of antiquity. During his journey to Afghanistan, he also passed through Sahiwal near Lahore and stood on a mound which looked to be of importance but, unfortunately, Masson didn't have means to carry out any investigation. He thought this somehow would be pertinent with Alexander's campaign (if you have a hammer, everything is a nail to you) - he missed a great opportunity. It would take a hundred more years for the world to know that his was Harappa, the famous city of the great Indus Valley civilization.
Somehow, Masson reached Kabul but there also life continued to be tumultuous. Some day he would dine with the princes, other days he would be reluctantly made a part of a looting expedition. However, all through these ordeals, Masson's idee fixe was singularly Alexander. Soon, he started following local stories about coins of antiquity being found in a place near Bagram (which also houses American forces' largest military base in Afghanistan). At first, people of Bagram said that there were no coins to be found and that all stories were fake, but as soon as they came to know that Masson would give money in exchange, coins started coming in plethora and seeing the coins, Masson's conviction was further strengthened that Alexandria lay somewhere in Bagram. The only problems that Masson faced now were money and spies. British spies in Kabul had already alerted Claude Wade, an EIC spymaster in Ludhiana of a red-haired, grey eyed man who is curious about everything. Masson also took a reckless approach - he wrote to some company officials, who he knew were interested in classical antiquity and history, to supply him with money and books on the matter. Though Masson didn't reveal his identity and company officials such as Henry Pottinger went a long way in helping him, Wade also came to know about such correspondence. Soon, Wade started preparing Masson's file and it didn't take him long to decipher that Charles Masson is none other than the deserter James Lewis. However, by the time Wade sent Masson's file to EIC's court of directors (the governing body of the company) in London, Masson had been doing his research in Kabul for a decade and had become famous among the EIC's officials who were interested in the classical antiquity and Alexander.
Bagram Base after withdrawal of American forces
Masson had already sent thousands of coins back to India (to EIC officials who were helping him in his endeavor while being unaware of his true identity) and through these coins had established that once Bactrian Greeks ruled the area. Their coins were bilingual and bi-scriptual (one script was Greek and the other was unknown to anyone at that time) and their religion was eclectic. Sometimes their coins had Greek gods, sometimes Hindu and Buddhist ones. The existence of such a kingdom shattered the long-standing ides of a virtual divide between east and west and established that some centuries after Alexander had gone, his descendants had created a syncretic culture which had no parallel in history.
As soon as company's directors received Masson's file in London, they were moved by his contribution to archaeology and requested the King to issue pardon for his desertion. Pardon was issued and sent to India. However, Wade didn't want to let go of a man who had everything that an excellent spy needed. Masson knew the local customs, languages and had access to all chambers of power. Moreover, no one would suspect him for he had been living in Kabul for 10 years doing nothing except collecting coins and stories. Wade therefore blackmailed Masson into becoming an EIC agent in Kabul. This changed everything for Masson. The immense pressure as well as coercion that he received from Wade seriously hindered his archaeological pursuits. However, sensing no way out, Masson had to play his part. Masson erected a top-notch intelligence network for Wade and proved excellent at his work. Even during such ordeal, he further investigated Bagram and deciphered the other unknown script on the coins from Bagram (this script was the long lost Kharosthi script).
Events kept taking turn and soon the British declared war on Afghanistan. While Masson had given a true picture of what really transpired in Kabul, his words were distorted to give a rationale for the inane war on Afghanistan. Masson, ergo, had to leave Afghanistan, the place he called home and come back to Bombay. Masson soon became hysterical after leaving Afghanistan and was disgusted by the senseless war that had been perpetrated by distorting his reports. The literary society in Bombay encouraged him to write a book about his travels and exploits but Masson, in his hysteria, came up with a book that called names and blamed people for the war and prophesized a complete disaster for British in the war. No one wanted to publish such a story amidst the war and hence despondency and penury continued for Masson. The only thing which Masson could now do was to go to London himself and try to get his book published. The very day Masson set sail for London from the port of Bombay, the British forces started crumbling in Afghanistan.
When Masson reached London, everyone knew about the massive British failure in Afghanistan. Now again, no one wanted to publish his book because now public would view it just as a pedantic hindsight discussion.
Masson could never make sense of his life till his last. Masson's life in London just made him more morose and lugubrious. Masson had left London in penury and came back to the same London as a destitute. One day suddenly Masson married and six years later a son was born, a daughter followed three years later. However, life kept tumbling downwards. Surviving copies of his unmatched and guilt-ridden budgets and letters exhibit how impoverished, helpless and disgusted he remained. He died on 5th November 1853 of "disease of the brain, uncertain". Just like many other men, the passion to follow Alexander swallowed Masson too
Many years later, however, British museum started collecting and cataloguing Masson's discoveries such as Bimaran casket, medallions and coins, and today, they are helping scholars around the world to understand the Indian subcontinent in a far lucid way than was every possible.
The exact location of Alexandria of Caucuses however, still eludes scholars. All through these years Bagram, once the great Hindu city of Kapisa, has seen the Persian chariots, Greek armies, Buddhist monks, Muslim invaders, Soviet barracks, American marines, and invariably consumed them all. It consumed Masson too who is now buried in a grave in London and just like his life long love, his gravesite remains unmarked.
Jai Hind, Jai Bharat
Jai Ma Bharti
Source: Alexandria: The Quest for the Lost City by Edmund Richardson
