“Fictional autobiography is arguably the most challenging, certainly the most ambitious, but in my opinion, definitely the most authentic genre in historical fiction,” says Belgian writer Dirk Collier, author of the enchanting The Emperor’s Writings, a fictionalised biography of the greatest of Mughal emperors, Akbar.
“Such a noble endeavour will always be, to a certain extent at least, doomed to failure. Complete self-effacement is impossible; the author’s character and personal experience will inevitably influence his or her perception of the facts at hand. Historical fiction can, of course, never replace history, but it attempts to contribute to historical understanding: It aspires to bring history back to life, and in this attempt, it starts where real history leaves off,” says Collier, in an email interview.

Excerpts from the interview:

Q: How difficult was it to get the voice of (or, as you mention in the book, reading into the mind of) Akbar right in this fictionalised biography that relies heavily on facts? Did you want this one to be an authentic account of Akbar’s life even though it’s a work of fiction?
A: I wanted to empathise with Emperor Akbar; I wanted to portray, as faithfully as possible, the kind of man he was and wanted to be (which, incidentally, is a quite important distinction, in every person’s life); I wanted to read into his mind, describe his feelings, the things he wanted for himself and “his” Hindustan, his joys, regrets, hopes and disappointments. Did I succeed in this ambitious goal? I guess only Akbar himself has the right to corroborate this, but as pretentious as it may sound, and as incomplete as any book necessarily will be: I am confident that he would have been quite pleased with The Emperor’s Writings.

Q: Besides his tolerance, what were Akbar’s personal traits that struck you the most? How would you distinguish Akbar the scholar from Akbar the emperor? Or did the one inform the other?
A: The Emperor’s Writings has been written from Akbar’s personal perspective and that of his most ardent supporters; it should therefore come as no surprise that the portrait painted of him is biased, and arguably, altogether rather flattering. However, I have tried to remain as open and honest as possible, and always faithful to what contemporary witnesses have to say about him.
From a personal point of view, he appears to have been an exceptionally captivating personality: Imposing, majestic and daunting, yet at the same time, congenial, kind and charming. He must have been an excellent judge of character, and gifted with a manipulative, Machiavellian, “Godfather-like” personal style, that mixture of awe and personal charm which one tends to find in most great leaders, good or bad, from Caesar to Hitler.
Contemporary witnesses report that as a rule, Akbar had perfect self-control and remained master of his emotions, his true feelings hidden behind a serene and composed attitude. Behind those pleasant manners, though, lurked a rather quick and occasionally violent temper. Throughout his life, there have been many examples, both of his liability to sudden — and quite dangerous — outbursts of anger, but also of his readiness to forgive and forget as soon as his anger had subsided.
Akbar was a remarkable and arguably great man, but, as I’m sure he would have readily admitted himself, he was by no means a saint: In today’s terms, he was an unashamed, ruthless imperialist, who did not hesitate to act with merciless brutality whenever it suited him. Even his well-known tolerance in religious matters was at least partially motivated by pragmatic and imperialist considerations.
However, despite the many reservations one may have vis-à-vis Akbar’s unapologetic imperialism, it is impossible to deny that he really was one of the most enlightened monarchs of his time. He sincerely desired the welfare of his subjects, and attempted to treat each and every one of them justly and equally. His character a remarkable combination of mysticism, rationalism and melancholy, he genuinely and honestly aspired to know the Divine will and lead his life in submission to God. Whatever criticism one may want to express concerning his maladroit, impractical and vainglorious attempt at creating a new creed to unite all religions, it cannot be denied that Din-e-Ilahi was also one of the very first conscious attempts to create a “secular” state, where the sovereign obligates himself to remain neutral and impartial, and to treat all his subjects equally. His tolerance in religious matters, which he pushed through in spite of stiff opposition and at great personal risk, was truly exceptional, and that alone merits him a place among the greatest rulers in history.

Q: How important was it to use the device of Akbar writing a letter to his son, Jahangir? Do you think the other voices in the book, like Akbar’s physician, Hakim Ali Gilani, tutor Mir Abdul Latif and wife Salima, make it a more balanced account, giving us the perspective of the people who mattered most in Akbar’s life?
A: As you rightly point out, I have added a few other voices to add balance and objectivity to the book, but The Emperor’s Writings has been written mainly from Akbar’s own perspective. The form or genre of the book is that of an autobiography — the protagonist talking about his own life.

Q: How has the response of the book been in Belgium? For the Dutch translation, what were your prime concerns? How has the translation come about?
A: Dutch being my mother tongue, it was not at all difficult for me to translate — or rather, rewrite — it. I also did not have too many difficulties finding myself a publisher: the fact that the book had been published in India, the protagonist’s country of origin, gives it much extra credibility.
That being said, the response to the book in Belgium and Holland has been quite positive so far, albeit quite different from that in India. In India, everybody knows Akbar. The main question people ask themselves, is not: “What is this book about?”, but “What new perspective has this book to offer?” In Belgium and Holland, where people have never heard about Akbar in history lessons, it is the remarkable story of his life and the relationship between Islam and universal tolerance that evokes quite a lot of interest.

Q: In the case of Emperor’s Writings, the research fits immaculately with the scheme of the novel. But do you think there is such a thing as too much research? Can it, if at all, ever impede the process of fiction writing? Can novels be marred by too much research?
A: Of course, they can. Writing can be good or bad for many reasons; getting caught in too much detail is certainly one of them. That being said, for the kind of book I wanted to write — fiction in form, but in essence a philosophical and historical study — lots of research is essential. Also the style of the book — solemn, at times ponderous — is quite deliberate: that is the way I think a Persian-speaking, 16th century monarch would tend to express himself.

Q: What are the other figures of Indian history you like?
A: Ashoka and Gandhi, of course. But Indian history is an inexhaustible source of fascinating people.

Q: What do you make of the contemporary discourse on Islam?
A: The struggle between love and hate, tolerance and bigotry, greatness and narrow-mindedness is universal and certainly not limited to Islam. People in the West, who take pride in their current tolerance and respect for human rights, should always remind themselves that Christianity, in essence a religion of universal love and kindness, has a long and dark history of violence and ruthless imperialism.
This is one of the important points I wanted to make in my book: True Islam is not at all synonymous with the misguided acts of violence perpetrated it its name. True Islam embraces peace, humaneness and progress. The Islamic tradition is not at all monolithic, but home to a great diversity of traditions and opinions.
I have attempted to show this in the various characters in my book: There is Makhdum-ul-Mulk’s bigotry, but there is also the equally orthodox broadmindedness and tolerance of Mir Adul Latif; and there is the freethinking spirit of Abu’l Fazl and Akbar.

Q: As an aside, did you see K. Asif’s Mughal-e-Azam, one of the greatest films on Akbar to come out of the subcontinent. And, if yes, how did you like the film?
A: I unfortunately did not, although I’ve read a lot about it, and I do intend to see it as soon as I get the chance. I did see Jodhaa Akbar though, and I enjoyed it. While not strictly accurate from an historical point of view, it does a wonderful job in describing the greater-than-life legendary Akbar, who will live on forever in India’s collective memory.

Q: What are you currently working on?
A: Mainly catching up on my reading, actually. But I would like to write another historical novel, about the Taj Mahal this time. Not just the story of Shah Jahan, Mumtaz Mahal, Aurangzeb, Jahanara and the other royals, but also that of ordinary people like Ahmad Lahori (the building’s main architect) and the Western visitors.

Q: Tell me something about your travels in India. What were your first impressions when you came here for the first time? What are the places here which fascinate you the most? What are the memories you cherish the most?
A: As a tourist, I have of course visited the “usual suspects”: Delhi, Agra, Fatehpur Sikri, Rajasthan. But most of my travel has been on business — mainly talks with chemical suppliers all over the country: Mumbai, Gujarat, Andhra Pradesh, Tamil Nadu.
What strikes me every time is its incredible unity in diversity. And as an avid reader and student of history and philosophy, I find in the subcontinent an inexhaustible wealth of inspiration.