How the IPL is a distant echo of the pre colonial India buzzing with mercenaries

Ayan
PlusNineOne
5 min readJun 11, 2020

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Had 2020 been a normal year, April 4th week evenings would have been spent watching a return leg match while engrossed in various permutations of KKR’s chances of making it to the playoffs. The SARS Cov2 virus achieved what neither the Indian general elections nor the shameful spot fixing controversy could; bringing the 12-year juggernaut to a screeching halt. Apart from satiating India’s unending thirst for cricket and drama; IPL has had positive impact on the sport. T20 leagues have not only rejuvenated interest in the game but have made pursuing cricket as a full-time career viable for players. Every year, established and aspiring cricketers from all the major cricketing countries enlist themselves in the IPL auction, in hope of a lucrative franchise deal. Interestingly, the last time eager foreigners set their eyes on the subcontinent in hope of fame and fortune was during the politically turbulent pre-colonial era.

The death of Aurangzeb led to the balkanization of the mighty Mughal empire, which broke into various independent/semi dependent kingdoms. Rampant struggle between multiple power centers ensured an era of high turbulence in the subcontinent, which concluded in 1818 with the defeat of Marathas and subsequent domination of the EIC. Political power struggle invariably led to a booming war economy. The demand in competing camps for frontline soldiers, army commanders, skilled administrators, architects and engineers, doctors and surgeons and a slew of other skilled professions were aplenty. It was met with a steady supply of willing mercenaries and adventurers, who amassed considerable fame and fortune by serving their wealthy rulers.

It was in these intriguing times that we saw the rise of the “habshi kingmaker” Malik Ambar (left in the picture above), an Abyssinia slave who worked his way up to become the prime ministers of Adil Shahi sultanate, building for himself a fortune and repute powerful enough to rob the Mughals of their sleep. And the stories of the adventures of Irishman George Thomas, son of a poor farmer, who served the ruler of Sardhana; Begum Samru, after having deserted the British Navy, and later went on to serve the Marathas before assuming the title of Raja of Hansi; a dizzying success which he might not have achieved back home at Tipperary. Begum Samru’s former husband Walter Reinhert, was another busy European mercenary who served a range of masters including the French army, EIC’s puppet nawab Mir Qasim, the Mughal general Safdar Jung amongst others. The Maratha army under Mahadji Scindia, the last native power standing against the British, was formed and commanded by the son of a poor French shopkeeper who trained himself in European regiments; Benoît Leborgne (the gentleman on the right side of the header image). For a society that relied on hacks by hakim and vaids, practitioners of western medicine were invaluable, like Françoi Bernier (right in the picture preceding this section) who became Aurangzeb’s personal doctor after having served his ill-fated brother Dara Sukho. Engineers and architects found employment in the durbars of Indian rajahs; the former spruced the fortification and defense while the latter conjured structures at grand scale to help the ruler stamp his authority; the beautiful palace built by the Madurai nayaks in 1639 with the help of Italian architects stands as testimony. While some stayed back in India, adopting local cultures to become the “white Mughals”; a majority returned to their native land with their new-found fortune to live a popular and celebrated life lavishly. Some leveraged their Indian sojourn to gain political clout to further their ambitions back home.

India isn’t the fabled “sone ki chidiya” anymore, it’s contribution in world production dropping from 25% in the 17thcentury to a meagre 8% today. Naturally it is not the global cosmopolitan hub teeming with enterprising and ambitious individuals. But the same cannot be said about the cricketing world where India has a dominant clout. The BCCI for all practical purpose runs the show at the global level, backed by the disproportionately large revenues it rakes in every year. Thus, their events surpass any other cricketing league in terms of prestige and moolah, making IPL the mecca of modern-day cricketing mercenaries.

In the 2019–20 auction, Australian pacer Pat Cummins bagged an INR 15 crore contract from KKR, making the deal the highest ever for a foreign national, and the second highest in the history of the IPL auctions. Such amount of money in cricket was previously unheard of. Most international cricketers today earn more from the IPL than from their services to the national cricket team. In the year 2017–18, Sunil Narine earned INR 9 crore out of which INR 8.5 crore was from his IPL contract and the balance INR 50 lakh coming from the West Indies cricketing board. For players like Steve Smith and David Warner, IPL not just swelled their bank accounts but bought them to the attention of the Australian cricketing administration. For the Afghan Rashid Khan, IPL not only earned him a celebrity status back home but made him a poster boy of hope in the war battered country. While some mercenaries held their guard serving one franchise since the dawn of IPL, legends like Malinga for Mumbai; others like Brendon McCullum and Chris Gayle found themselves at the service of multiple team over the seasons. The professionally run IPL teams need a battery of support staffs including coaches, physios, mentors and analysts; and it is in these roles that legends of the game have found a meaningful and profitable career transition. The likes of Ricky Ponting, Jonty Rhodes, Stephen Fleming, Daniel Vettori, Gary Kirsten and others have earned lucrative deals from their respective franchise for such roles. The IPL dollars spill over from the competing teams to the media production and broadcast aspect of the sport. The annual league has provided a steady income to the likes of Danny Morrison and Simon Doull, Kiwis who would be remembered in India not as cricketers but storytellers of the game. And if a potential guru fails to find a spot in the official media team, he would land himself a sweet “expert analyst” role in one of India’s TRP mongering news studios and the slew of YouTube match analysis shows.

The IPL has created a robust cricket economy unlike anything seen previously in the history of the sport. The franchises have assumed the role of the power centers of pre-colonial India, attracting contemporary cricketing mercenaries. The world and Indian subcontinent have evolved and the political instability of the medieval times are romantic stories of an era gone by. Modern day sports can best be considered as the mutated cousin of that war mongering phase of humanity. If that is the case, then IPL is probably a very distant echo of pre-modern India; which might have looked something like a cosmopolitan society teeming with energy, aggression, intrigue, politics, fame and obviously fortune that could last a lifetime.

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