In an intellectual landscape often shaped by binaries, historian Dr. Abbas Panakkal offers a strikingly different lens. His latest book, Hindu Amir of Muslims, revisits the Indian Ocean world with a focus on Malabar, mostly drawing on archival material, literary sources, and social history, Panakkal, a historian currently affiliated with the University of Surrey and the University of Birmingham, reconstructs a past in which communities did not just tolerate each other, “acknowledged his authority, received his patronage, and defended his rule.” Such a configuration points to what he calls the “indigenisation” of Islam—a process through which religious life adapts to local political and cultural ecosystems rather than remaining tethered to distant centres. but actively collaborated, negotiated, and co-created shared worlds.
At the heart of his work is a nuanced argument: that the Hindu ruler, the Zamorin of Calicut, functioned in a role akin to an “Amir” for Muslim communities—an interpretation that invites a rethinking of conventional assumptions about religious authority and identity. “The title challenges a long-standing assumption,” Panakkal explains. “That the leader—or Amir—of a Muslim community must be Muslim. In Malabar, historical records show that the Zamorin of Calicut, a non-Muslim king, effectively operated as the central authority recognized even within Muslim social and military hierarchies.”
This was not a symbolic arrangement but a deeply institutional one. Muslim leaders, Panakkal notes, “For me,” he continues, “the book is also about the nature of communities to integrate with their surroundings, creating dynamic cultures that evolve through daily engagement.” He draws a distinction between what he terms “Mecca-oriented” and “India-oriented” Islam. “In India-oriented contexts, Muslims focused on a personal connection with God. Arab cultural forms were secondary. This framework helps us understand how interreligious coexistence was adapted across the leaders contributed to governance, trade, and security under the Zamorin. Legal privileges, shared military campaigns, and collaborative governance all point to a sophisticated pluralistic society.” Indian Ocean littoral, producing vibrant, regionally rooted traditions.”
Panakkal’s emphasis on coexistence is not abstract. One of the most evocative examples he cites is from the 1571 capture of the Portuguese fort at Chaliyam, recorded in a war poem by Qadi Muhammad. The episode captures a moment of shared resolve between Muslim and Nayar soldiers.
Dr. abbas panakkal
“All Muslim soldiers, by touching Qur’an, take an oath for sacrificing their lives first,” Panakkal recounts from the text. Hearing this, Nayar soldiers respond with a strong sense of solidarity. “Muslims should not be left to fight and die alone. We will fight and march together to the fort.”
For Panakkal, this is more than a poetic flourish. “The In this telling, religion becomes less a boundary marker and more a framework for participation. “It was a lens for integration rather than division,” Panakkal adds. He, however, is careful not to deny conflict, but he insists that it should not eclipse the equally important history of accommodation. poem celebrates not only Muslim heroism but also the ethical leadership of the Zamorin and the solidarity between communities. It shows how ideas of honour, duty, and justice were shared across religious lines.”
This layered history, he argues, reflects centuries of cultural absorption. “You have Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism, and local folk traditions all contributing to a shared social fabric. These were not isolated strands but interconnected systems that shaped everyday life.”
The implications of this history are significant for how we understand Muslim–non-Muslim relations in South Asia. Panakkal urges a shift toward recognizing embedded cooperation. “It demonstrates that cooperation and respect were structurally embedded,” he says. “Muslim
“What this book shows is that Islam in India was not a monolithic import,” he explains. “It adapted to local political, social, and cultural contexts, creating dynamic regional identities. It thrived through negotiation, commerce, literature, and ritual.”
“History can serve as a critical lens,” he reflects. “Recognizing that communities were integrated, cooperative, and socially engaged undermines rigid binaries of identity.” He is particularly interested in the ethical dimensions of pluralism. “Pluralism is not just about coexistence—it’s about how diversity is managed. In Malabar, we see models of justice, shared responsibility, and mutual respect that remain relevant.”
The lessons, he believes, are both practical and aspirational. Hindu Amir of Muslims thus emerges as an important work interpreting a nigh unknown piece of history. Through meticulous research and a willingness to challenge entrenched assumptions, Abbas Panakkal invites readers to reconsider what they think they know about history.
