The Enigma of Tipu Sultan
Understanding the man behind the conflicting memories
CA. S. Muralidharan, Business Mentor and Thought Leader
In 1791, the Shankaracharya of Sringeri needed help. Forces associated with the Maratha campaign had plundered the monastery. The shrine of Goddess Sharada had to be restored, and the institution needed money and protection. He turned to Tipu Sultan, the Muslim ruler of Mysore. Tipu responded with assistance and condemned the attack. Sringeri’s own records preserve this part of the story. [1, 2]
It is an episode that makes us pause. Many of us first hear of Tipu through accounts of his wars or his persecution of religious communities. Yet here he was, helping a Hindu monastery recover from an attack by forces serving a Hindu power. Clearly, there is more to understand.
Other communities remember him very differently. In Coorg, Malabar and among the Catholics of Canara, his name is linked to captivity, displacement and pressure to change one’s faith. For those who suffered, his generosity to a monastery elsewhere could offer little consolation. Their experience belongs in his history as surely as the letters preserved at Sringeri. [5]
To understand how these memories can coexist, we need to look at the world Tipu lived in and the choices he made. He could respect a religious teacher, work to strengthen his kingdom and punish those he regarded as enemies with great severity. Understanding the connections between these actions helps explain him. It does not excuse the harm he caused.
The kingdom he had to hold together
Tipu inherited power from his father, Haidar Ali, in 1782. Southern India was then a place of competing kingdoms and shifting alliances. The East India Company was expanding. The Marathas and the Nizam of Hyderabad were protecting their interests and seeking opportunities of their own. Smaller rulers looked for allies who might help them survive. [6, 9]
Religion influenced these struggles, but it did not determine who stood together. Muslim Hyderabad could oppose Muslim Mysore. Hindu Maratha forces could join the British against Tipu. When rulers feared losing land or power, they often chose allies according to the danger before them, even across religious boundaries. [6]
Tipu’s fight against the British grew out of this setting. He was defending his kingdom and his family’s rule against an increasingly powerful Company. Later generations of Indians came to admire that resistance. There is good reason to recognise it, while remembering that he lived before the modern national movement. The India imagined by later freedom fighters was not the political world in which he ruled.
He understood that courage alone would not keep Mysore independent. His army needed weapons, his treasury needed income and his kingdom needed productive land. He sought cooperation and trade with France and the Ottoman world. Studies of his Ottoman embassy show how closely these efforts were tied to his wish to make Mysore stronger. [7]
Within the kingdom, his government supported loans for cultivation and irrigation, maintained workshops producing military supplies and took control of important trades. Products such as sandalwood and pepper brought revenue into the treasury. These efforts continued changes begun by earlier Mysore rulers and developed under Haidar and Tipu. He inherited institutions as well as building upon them. [8]
The iron cased rockets used by his army are a striking example of Mysore’s technical skill. Behind them were craftsmen, workshops and organised military effort. Tipu deserves credit for supporting these capabilities. Giving him that credit does not require the misleading claim that he personally invented rockets. [9]
These achievements tell us something about his ability as a ruler. They leave another question open: what was it like to live under him? A stronger government could improve cultivation and defend its borders. It could also demand more from its people and punish them more effectively. We have to consider both uses of its power.
Other rulers faced similar choices
Tipu’s mixture of conviction and political calculation becomes easier to understand when we place him beside other rulers. The comparisons do not prove what he privately intended. They show why we should be cautious about reading a ruler’s motives from the religion of his opponent, or from his decision to resist the British.
In 1526, Ibrahim Lodi fought Babur at Panipat. Both were Muslim rulers. Ibrahim was defending the Delhi sultanate he ruled, while Babur was seeking to establish his own authority in northern India. The shared faith of the two men did not reconcile their competing claims. The immediate struggle was over sovereignty and the survival of a ruling dynasty. [14]
Shivaji’s career offers an even closer comparison because his relationships changed with circumstances. He fought the Mughals, reached terms through Jai Singh at Purandar in 1665, and then assisted a Mughal campaign against Bijapur. In 1677, he negotiated an alliance with the Muslim ruler of Golconda for his southern campaign. A power he opposed in one setting could become a partner in another. These choices do not make his religious commitments unreal. They show that building and preserving his kingdom also required practical diplomacy. [15, 16]
The experience of Bijapur makes the pattern clearer still. Its Muslim ruler resisted Aurangzeb’s demands, and the kingdom received assistance from Golconda and Sambhaji while facing Mughal attack. Aurangzeb eventually annexed Bijapur in 1686 and Golconda in 1687. Religious and sectarian considerations formed part of his outlook, but imperial expansion and the independence of rival dynasties were also at stake. The opposing sides cannot be explained as two religious communities fighting each other. [17]
The same care is needed when we turn to resistance against the East India Company. Mir Qasim’s struggle in Bengal concerned the practical meaning of being a ruler. Company interference and the trading privileges claimed by its servants weakened his authority over commerce and taxation. After attempts to regulate those privileges failed, he abolished inland duties altogether. He later joined Shuja-ud-Daula and Shah Alam II against the Company, seeking to recover his power, but their coalition was defeated at Buxar in 1764. His resistance had political and economic reasons that can be identified quite specifically. [18]
Nearly a century later, the annexation of Jhansi and the rejection of her adopted son’s succession claim lay at the heart of Lakshmibai’s dispute with the British. She subsequently became a leading figure in the resistance of 1857–1858. Her immediate grievance concerned the future of a dynasty and a kingdom; her struggle acquired a much wider meaning in Indian national memory. Recognising the first does not diminish her courage or the importance of the second. [19]
Together, these instances suggest a useful way to approach Tipu. A ruler could defend his throne and also protect his people from conquest. He could act from faith while choosing allies according to political need. His resistance could later inspire a national movement whose aims went beyond his own. These possibilities should be examined together rather than treated as mutually exclusive.
For Tipu, the defensible inference is that the security of his kingdom and dynasty weighed heavily alongside his religious convictions. His opposition to British expansion deserves recognition without becoming proof of selfless motives in every decision. His Hindu patronage likewise deserves acknowledgement without settling how he treated other communities. The comparisons help explain this combination; they neither excuse his repression nor establish that all rulers behaved alike.
His relationship with Hindu institutions
His help to Sringeri was part of a wider record of support for Hindu institutions. Historian Kate Brittlebank points to inscriptions, revenue records and gifts kept by temples. She describes donations to the Ranganatha temple at Srirangapatna and the Narayanaswami temple at Melukote, along with grants to religious institutions in parts of Malabar. This evidence establishes particular acts of support. It does not tell us that everyone received the same treatment. [3]
Such support made sense in the society he governed. A temple or monastery could own land, support learning and hold the trust of local people. Its standing might reach well beyond the town in which it stood. A ruler who respected these institutions could gain cooperation and acceptance. For a dynasty seeking to secure its place, those relationships mattered.
But political advantage need not have been his only reason. Research on Tipu’s relationship with Sringeri suggests that he also valued the guru’s blessings and the ceremonies performed for his kingdom’s welfare. His Islamic faith could coexist with respect for a Hindu holy person. We cannot know every private feeling behind a royal letter, but we should leave room for belief as well as calculation. [4]
Sringeri’s history records twenty nine letters from Tipu to the Acharya between 1791 and 1798. He asked for ceremonies and expressed his reliance on the Jagadguru’s blessings. The correspondence continued over several years. That makes it difficult to dismiss the relationship as one convenient gesture after a raid. [1]
The facts are substantial enough without adding drama. Tipu helped the institution recover and offered protection after the attack; this is more precise than saying that he personally rescued the Shankaracharya during an assault. We should be equally careful about the attackers. S. N. Sen’s study compares Maratha material with the correspondence. Evidence that forces in the campaign plundered Sringeri does not, by itself, prove that the Peshwa personally ordered its desecration. [1, 2]
The episode reminds us how little protection a shared religion could sometimes offer in war. Soldiers might plunder a sacred place despite belonging to the same faith, while help might come from a ruler of another religion. Orders, discipline, revenge and the prospect of loot could all influence what an army did.
The people who suffered under him
For communities facing repression, however, Tipu’s respect for Sringeri would have seemed far away. Accounts of his rule in Coorg, Malabar and Canara include the removal of people from their homes, imprisonment and forced conversion. Historians disagree about the scale and details of particular episodes. The large totals found in popular retellings should be treated cautiously. That uncertainty does not give us grounds to dismiss the suffering altogether. [5]
Some historians explain the harsh treatment through rebellion or suspected cooperation with the British. This may help us understand why Tipu targeted a community or region. It cannot tell us that every person punished was guilty. A family could be caught up in a ruler’s retaliation without having taken part in any plot.
Forced conversion needs to be faced directly too. A ruler might begin by wanting to break political resistance. Once he compelled people to abandon their faith, the punishment also became religious. For the person made to submit, describing it as a response to rebellion would hardly lessen the injury.
We must read the accounts with care. British officers had reasons to make a defeated enemy appear especially cruel. Writers at Tipu’s court could exaggerate his victories and conversions to praise him. Later authors sometimes quoted translations without making their origins clear. The answer is to compare sources and ask what each can support. Neither admiration nor dislike should decide in advance which evidence we accept.
This is especially necessary when considering the Diwali story associated with the Mandyam Iyengars. Community accounts remember ancestors killed by Tipu’s forces and link mourning on Naraka Chaturdashi to that loss. The Mandayam Sabha catalogue lists a work called The Massacre of Mandayams 1783. Its description connects killings at Srirangapatna with loyalty to Maharani Lakshmammanni and the Wodeyar cause. The full work was not examined for this essay, so the catalogue can establish only the outline of that account. [11]
Reports recording community testimony differ over numbers and, at times, location. Several place the killings at Srirangapatna and associate surviving families with Melukote. Popular versions often describe a precisely dated massacre at Melukote itself. The accessible sources checked here do not securely establish the date, place, number of victims or full sequence of events. [12]
It is possible to acknowledge those gaps and still take the community’s grief seriously. A story handed down through families deserves a careful hearing. Establishing its details requires further evidence. We should be particularly cautious when a number of families becomes a number of individuals in another account, or when a dramatic description of the killings has no traceable source.
If punishment of Wodeyar supporters lay behind the episode, that would help explain its setting. It would not justify killing civilians or punishing families together. Nor can a donation to the Melukote temple settle the question. A ruler could favour an institution and harm people connected with the same religious tradition. The evidence for each action has to be considered separately.
What his ambitions cost
The same care is needed when judging his economic policies. State control of valuable trades could strengthen the treasury while making business harder for independent merchants. Research describes restrictions requiring traders to deal through royal agents. A policy that served the king’s purposes did not necessarily serve every trader who had to live with it. [13]
This does not make his economic efforts worthless. It asks us to look at who benefited and who carried the burden. Maintaining armies, paying officials and competing with powerful neighbours all cost money. A judgement of his government must consider the demands made on people as well as the projects undertaken in their name.
His attempts to obtain help abroad raise a similar question. They showed initiative and an awareness of the wider world. Whether he could obtain enough support, in time, was another matter. In the end, Mysore could not withstand the forces brought against it.
Knowing how his reign ended makes it easy to judge his choices. But we cannot be certain what greater accommodation with the Company would have preserved, or what price it would have demanded. Tipu died during the storming of Srirangapatna on 4 May 1799. His courage deserves recognition, even as we examine the decisions that preceded the loss of his kingdom. [10]
Much of Mysore’s fate depended on the judgement of one man. The energy that allowed him to pursue useful projects also enabled him to act harshly when he suspected disloyalty. People had few dependable safeguards against such decisions. This is one of the weaknesses of personal rule: the ruler’s strengths can benefit his subjects, while his fears and errors can expose them to terrible harm.
Making room for the whole story
We understand Tipu better when we allow different experiences of his rule to be heard. Sringeri could remember his help. A family driven from its home could remember his cruelty. Later Indians could honour his resistance to British expansion. Each takes us towards a part of the past that deserves attention.
The evidence suggests a ruler whose ambitions for his dynasty and kingdom were closely bound up with his Islamic convictions. He could value the blessings of a Hindu guru and support Hindu institutions, yet use severe coercion against people he regarded as opponents. Those actions reveal the unevenness of his rule. No single label explains them all.
We can give him credit for documented achievements and hold him responsible for documented wrongs. Where evidence is uncertain, we should say so. That is how an account earns the reader’s trust, especially when its subject still arouses strong feelings.
For the people who lived under Tipu, the meaning of his rule depended greatly on where they stood and what happened to them. Our task is to keep those people in view. The gratitude preserved in a monastery and the grief carried by a family both deserve to be heard. A fair history has to make room for both.
Sources and validation notes
Original sources checked on 15 October 2026. Comparative examples added and sources checked on 16 October 2026. Numbered references identify the basis of factual claims. Analytical judgements are the essay’s synthesis. The following are accessible sources used for this review, rather than a claim to an exhaustive archival investigation.
[1] Sringeri Sharada Peetham. Sri Sacchidananda Bharati III 1770 to 1814. Institutional account of the raid, restoration and correspondence. https://www.sringeri.net/jagadgurus/sri-sacchidananda-bharati-iii-1770-1814
[2] Surendranath Sen. The Shringeri Letters of Tipu Sultan, in Studies in Indian History, 1930. Historical study comparing the letters with Maratha material. Digitised volume: https://library.bjp.org/jspui/bitstream/123456789/708/1/Studies-in-Indian%20History.pdf
[3] Kate Brittlebank. Tipu Sultan a Product of His Times. Authorised extract from Tiger The Life of Tipu Sultan, published by The Wire, 7 November 2016. Used for identified patronage and its evidentiary basis; its raid date is checked against Sringeri’s chronology. https://m.thewire.in/article/books/tipu-sultan-kate-brittlebank-excerpt
[4] Caleb Simmons. The Sultan the Sufi and the Guru, in Devotional Sovereignty Kingship and Religion in India, Oxford University Press, 2020. Public chapter abstract used for the interpretation of devotional kingship. https://academic.oup.com/book/40392/chapter-abstract/347187956
[5] Narasingha Sil. Tipu Sultan in History Revisionism Revised. SAGE Open, 2013. Critical historiographical essay; its interpretations and quotations require comparison with other scholarship, and are not treated as an uncontested verdict. https://doi.org/10.1177/2158244013482836
[6] Maharashtra State Gazetteers. Sangli district history, Maratha period. Used for the Maratha and Company military coalition and the campaign context. https://gazetteers.maharashtra.gov.in/cultural.maharashtra.gov.in/english/gazetteer/SANGLI/his_maratha%20period.html
[7] Tipu and the Turks An Islamicate Embassy in the Age of British Expansion. Itinerario, Cambridge University Press, 2023. https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/itinerario/article/tipu-and-the-turks-an-islamicate-embassy-in-the-age-of-british-expansion/FE6D2072A36822868F1DD5841D95F194
[8] War interaction capacity and the structures of state systems. International Theory, 2020. Used for agricultural support, manufacturing, monopolies and the continuity of administrative change. https://doi.org/10.1017/S1752971920000019
[9] Victoria and Albert Museum. Tipu’s Tiger. Museum account of Tipu’s court, material culture and iron cased rockets. https://www.vam.ac.uk/articles/tipus-tiger
[10] National Army Museum. The last effort and fall of Tippo Sultaun 1799. Collection description, used for the date and circumstances of his final defeat. https://collection.nam.ac.uk/detail.php?acc=1971-02-33-386-1
[11] Mandayam Sabha library catalogue. The Massacre of Mandayams 1783, Natampally Narasimhan, 12 pages. Only the public catalogue description was consulted, not the full work. Its narrative is treated as community testimony and checked for internal chronology. https://mdl.mandayamsabha.in/index.php?%2Fbook-details%2F392=
[12] The Times of India. Mandyam community still feels Tipu’s sword, 2019; The New Indian Express. The two sides of Tipu Sultan, 9 November 2016. Reporting of community accounts, not contemporary eighteenth century documentation. https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/bengaluru/mandyam-community-still-feels-tipus-sword/articleshow/71861480.cms and https://www.newindianexpress.com/karnataka/2016/Nov/09/the-two-sides-of-tipu-sultan-1536521.html
[13] University of Chicago Knowledge repository. Historical dissertation discussing Tipu’s trading restrictions and royal commercial agents. Used narrowly for restrictions on private merchants, not as proof that those restrictions alone caused war. https://knowledge.uchicago.edu/record/2705/files/Anand_uchicago_0330D_15364.pdf
[14] Smithsonian National Museum of Asian Art. From Peshawar to Panipat. Discussion of the Baburnama and Babur’s establishment of rule in northern India. https://asia.si.edu/research/essays/vi-from-peshawar-to-panipat/
[15] Jadunath Sarkar. Shivaji and His Times, Chapter 5. Used for the Purandar settlement and subsequent cooperation in the Bijapur campaign; the author’s evaluative language is not adopted. https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Shivaji_and_His_Times/Chapter_5
[16] IGNOU. Unit 8 Ahmednagar Bijapur and Golkonda. Used for Shivaji’s agreement with Abul Hasan Qutb Shah in 1677. https://egyankosh.ac.in/bitstream/123456789/20230/1/Unit-8.pdf
[17] INFLIBNET educational resource. Aurangzeb Life Politics and Achievements, sections on Bijapur and Golconda. Used for the demands on Bijapur, assistance to it and the annexations; its character judgements are not adopted. https://ebooks.inflibnet.ac.in/icp01/chapter/aurangzeb-life-politics-achievements/
[18] Ministry of Culture Government of India. Revolt of Mir Qasim against the British, 2 November 2022. Used for the trade duties dispute and the Buxar coalition. https://amritmahotsav.nic.in/district-reopsitory-detail.htm?7205=
[19] National Geographic History. Lakshmi Bai India’s warrior queen who fought the British, 2020. Used for the succession dispute and annexation that preceded her armed resistance. https://www.nationalgeographic.com/history/history-magazine/article/india-warrior-queen-lakshmi-bai-fought-british-rule
CA. S. Muralidharan |
