Battle Of Nowshera, 1823.

Pakhtun Ballad by Mullah Rashid a local poet on the battle of Nowshera 1823.
“O People, gather ye all who would honour Islam. 
Lo! Here come the Sarkar’s armies, O people, 
Beyond Nowshera begins the battle. 
My people, it’s a a war between Muslims and infidels. 
On the Tarakae hill went on the Crusade
It was on Thursday and Friday night, kettledrums of the Sikhs echoed in the air. 
Their cannons and guns thundered. 
The crusaders gave up their lives heroically. 
Many men from both sides were killed
The evening drew nearer and our people began to run. 
O, the crusaders had to leave their trenches on the hill. 
Cries of “Akal” rose from among the Sikhs, 
Our warriors retreated and there was a loud noise,
O, far away was left our home from us!
Pray all to be saved from such a terrible day, 
Everybody said: ‘here’s the end of our life!
Allah gave strength to the Sarkar today, 
Every Sikh is like the demon of the Kuri Mar mountain, 
Our Allah is kind on Sikhs Today!
Our people gathered and begged the Sarkar.
The Sarkar forgave everyone: all came back to their homes again
Battle with the Sikhs won’t do, yield and live, O people, 
Lo, here come the Sarkar’s armies, O, people
The Sikhs are all swordsmen, yet the Nihang Sikhs are greater, 
People, it’s a war between Muslims and infidels 

Battle of Nowshera 1823: 

With the arrival of the King’s messenger the Yousufzai exclaimed
“Go to Nowshera for ‘jihad’ and sacrifice thy life” 
The King’s messenger, sent by Azim Khan
Called a ‘jirga’ of the mullahs and ‘maliks’ 
He promised provision of ordnance and expense of war. 
The inspiring words of the messenger roused them
The messengers’ sweet words had won over the Yousufzi
People joined the ‘jihad’ in groups, without rest. 
As if their house were in fire, a catastrophe had befallen them. 
After prayers for success, and trust in God, they proceeded like a flood. 
Amongst these God believers, were thousands of the Akozi
Along the riverbank came their elders, steadfast like a rock
Harnessed in armour and silken turbans on their heads. 
So eye catching that the kings could not find words in their praise. 
So graceful that I shall eulogise them for years 
 The were roses that had been withered by the autumn,
Loved by their mothers and sisters, nature lured them to meet their end. 
 They grew up to meet their end on the battlefield. 
 The Ashirzi fought well and met their fate on the battlefield. 
The Salarzi were fortunate, they also got their martyrdom on the battlefield. 
The brave Gadzi are not the one to turn their face from the enemy. 
O God! When did the Khadin Khel shirk from the fight? 
If pestered the Nurizi are like a phantom.
They are the warriors when they are in the battlefield. 
On hearing their name the Sikhs used to flee. 
The reputation of their marksmanship overawed Ranjit Singh
While fighting on the battlefield Pir Khan attained martyrdom
Along with their men Faiz Talib and Lataf Khan were martyred. 
With the martyrdom of his other sons Sarwar Khan became issueless
The Ismailzai with their chief mullah, were martyred. 
The prolonged battle was fought with gallantry
 On their martyrdom the angels in the sky also wept. 
The earth and the angels on the sky lament
A generation has been destroyed and Akhund Khels imprisoned. 
Hazrat Din’s father laments. 
His whole family has been annihilated.
The beds are empty
The mothers and sisters are bewailing 
The big turbans have been buried in the ground
To eulogise their martyrdom Mawezai is emotional like red-hot steel 
Bravado! The Yousufzai have sacrificed their lives.
With them all the Pirs, mullahs, and Sahibzadas have disappeared. 
The infidels would be in hell and the ‘Ghazis’ in Paradise. 
 Each verse of Mawezai is valuable like a pearl.  

In 1823 Runjeet Singh demanded tribute from the Peshawar Sirdar Yar Mohammed who responded by sending some horses to the Sikh. Azeem Khan, Yar’s older brother disproved and moved down to Peshawar in January 1823. On 13th March Sikh forces crossed the Indus and the next day arrived at Akora Khattak. The Sikhs now advanced to Nowshera to clash with a Pakhtun tribal force of 4,000 men under Sadiq Khan Khattak. “The battle commenced with a furious charge led by Pholla Singh Akalee, a Sikh desperado, who was in the habit of rushing forward, with some followers of like zeal, at the commencement of action” The Pakhtuns were ready to send the Sikhs to the devil, and Pakhtun swords made the Sikhs sing with pain and the Sikh force faced defeat at Muslim hands since many fell to the ghazis. Ranjeet Singh was forced to call for reinforcements and the Pakhtuns resisted firmly upon two hillocks with defensive sangers atop them. The Sikh cavalry surrounded the Pakhtuns with a view to killing any who retreated. Runjeet’s rifle regiment and Gurkhas moved forward to wipe out the Pakhtuns. Twice the enemy advanced and tried to defeat the Pakhtuns but they met only the bitterness of the pain from the Pakhtun sword “twice were they repulsed by the determined body”   The fight continued unabated but the best of Runjeet’s men not being capable or strong enough to defeat the Pakthuns. The darkness of night descended which provided the Pakhtuns the cover to cut their way to freedom through the occupying Sikh force and made their way to the safety of their mountains. 

The Pakhtuns at Nowshera had only been about 4,000 ordinary men from villages who came down from their villages to the plains to stop the Sikh invaders. Men who came to ensure that their families would not fall prey to the jackals who beset their lands. The numbers of the Sikh soldiers was nearly six fold that of the Pakhtuns at 24,000 trained soldiers. Yet these Pakthun men though they were not from disciplined units of an army,  held back the cream of Runjeet forces. Runjeet was frustrated as he threw the best of all he had at these plucky defenders. For one whole day Runjeet sweated as he watched his carefully trained soldiers turn into vulture meat. Over one thousand Sikhs would not live to boast about the supposed victory at Nowshera. Four of Runjeet’s high ranking officers were led to their doom amongst whom was the foolish Phoola Singh Akali, Ghurba Singh and Kurum Singh Chahul and Bulbahadar Singh Gurkhali. Gurkhali was a brave commander who had defended Nepal against the British.  The Pakhtuns smashed the hopes of this Kurki wielding mercenary who would not live to rue the day he entered the land of the Pakhtuns. Runjeet’s force of 24,000 could not quell a small band of Pakhtun Muslims who drowned out the howls of “Wahi Guru” with “Allahu Akbar- Allah is the greatest”. 

Azeem Khan Barakzai had watched the battle with his Durrani cavalry and could have turned the tables on Runjeet if he had advanced to assist the Pakhtun force, but instead he retreated. Azeem had been fooled by a rumour spread by the Sikhs that his harem was about to be captured. The cause of war was forgotten and Azeem turned tail leaving the Pakhtuns to fight bravely as lesser men made their way back to Kabul. Two months later the burden of shame would be too much for Azeem Khan who would be no more. Azeem’s son Habibullah would be deprived of ruling Kabul by his dear uncle Dost Mohammed Khan. With the death in 1823 of Azeem Khan, the Kingdom of Kabul came to an end with the emergence of city states run by the Barakzai brothers at Kandahar and Peshawar with Dost Mohammed holding Ghazni and Kabul. The Kingdom of Kabul or the Durrani Empire no longer existed as lesser mortals held the power in the land of Afghans.  

On 17 March 1823, the one eyed dajjal, Runjeet Singh an unwelcome intruder advanced into Peshawar, heralding destruction and death, symbolising ineptitude of the Barakzai Durrani ruling clan. How many brave Muslims were tortured and died on that day as the Khalsa celebrated their victory with bloodshed and fire. The beautiful Mughal era Bala Hissar was destroyed, amongst many other treasures of Peshawar which are no more. The gardens with beautiful cypress trees of the Shah Bagh were cut down for firewood and the fruit bushes and mulberry trees are no more. Peshawar a civilised city of beautiful Mughal mosques and gardens nurtured by artistic hands was scarred by this experience of uncouth barbarians swooping upon her.