The Enigma of Hathi Khan and the Ghost of Rani Mungo: A Potohar Odyssey
Yet, history is seldom a linear progression of heroics. Lingering in the shadow of Sarang’s celebrated martyrdom is a figure far more elusive, yet no less consequential to the Gakhar saga: Hathi Khan Gakhar. If Sarang is the quintessential hero of this narrative, Hathi Khan remains its enduring enigma.
Where did he vanish after his desperate flight from Pharwala?
And where, at last, does he rest?
These questions have haunted my historical inquiries for years.
The Titanic Persona of Hathi Khan
In both the dry prose of historical chronicles and the vibrant tapestry of regional folklore, Hathi Khan is remembered as a man of staggering physical presence and formidable character. In the collective consciousness of the Potohar, he looms as a "larger-than-life" chieftain whose very aspect commanded immediate fealty or terror.
Oral traditions consistently highlight several extraordinary attributes:
Gigantic Stature: He was reputed to possess a height so exceptional that, even while standing on foot amidst a circle of mounted warriors, he appeared taller than those seated upon their steeds.
Prodigious Strength: His power was likened to that of an elephant, earning him the sobriquet Hathi.
A Steely Gaze: He reportedly possessed a piercing stare that could be identified even from the distant ramparts of a fortress.
Military Prowess: A master of the cavalry, he was known for personally leading armored counter-charges at the vanguard of his host.
In the unforgiving tribal landscape of the Potohar plateau, these were not merely ornamental traits; they were the essential instruments of sovereign leadership.
A House Divided: The Gakhar Power Structure
Before Hathi’s ascension, Gakhar authority radiated from Pharwala Fort, an ancient sentinel overlooking the jagged ravines of the Soan River. At this juncture, the Gakhar lineage was bifurcated into two distinct branches. Tatar Khan Gakhar—alternately identified as Hathi’s uncle or cousin—held the principal chieftainship in the late fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries.
Tatar represented the pragmatic, established wing of the family, maintaining a working rapport with the Lodi governors in Lahore. Hathi Khan, conversely, was of an entirely different temperament. Where Tatar sought accommodation, Hathi cultivated a fierce independence. Shunning the plains, he ensconced himself in the rugged foothills of Dhan Gali, constructing a power base that increasingly menaced the status quo. To the administrators of the day, his reputation was that of an outlaw chieftain.
The Usurpation and the Blood Feud
The simmering rivalry between these kinsmen inevitably culminated in fratricidal violence. In early 1519, as Tatar sought to curb Hathi’s burgeoning influence, Hathi launched a lightning strike upon Pharwala. Both historical records and regional lore agree: Tatar Khan perished in the fray, though some accounts suggest the more insidious use of poison.
Hathi seized Pharwala, absorbing Tatar’s property and household, and effectively unified the Gakhar lands under a militant banner. Yet, this triumph contained the seeds of his ruin: Tatar’s sons, Sarang and Adam Khan, survived the purge.
The Arrival of Babur
Hathi Khan transformed Pharwala into a nearly impregnable redoubt, utilizing the natural ravines to bolster its defenses. From this seat, he aggressively displaced the Janjua Rajputs of the Salt Range, extending his reach over areas that now include Kallar Syedan, Kahuta, and Rawalpindi.
However, the political landscape shifted violently with the arrival of Zahiruddin Muhammad Babur in 1519. Seeking a gateway to Hindustan, Babur found the Gakhars a potentially dangerous obstacle. The catalyst for conflict was a petition from Malik Asad Janjua, who decried Hathi as a violent brigand. For Babur, this was a strategic windfall—a convenient pretext to neutralize a tribal threat while securing a regional ally.
Babur attacked the Gakhars at Pharwala—likely three or four times. The early assaults appear to have been repulsed by Hathi Khan and his warriors, episodes which the Baburnama conveniently glosses over. Eventually, however, Babur prevailed in March 1519.
The Battle of Pharwala
Babur’s final assault demonstrated the speed and tactical adaptability that would later secure him the throne of Delhi.
Departing from Bhera on 13 March, Babur marched continuously through the night and reached the vicinity of Pharwala by the morning of 15 March.
Hathi Khan did not remain behind his walls. Instead he led a counter-attack personally, accompanied by 30–40 armored cavalrymen and a large body of infantry. The ferocity of the charge forced Babur’s vanguard to recoil.
But the Mughal rearguard under Dost Beg intercepted the assault. In the fierce melee that followed, the Gakhar forces were overwhelmed. As Hathi withdrew toward the fort, Mughal troops pressed so closely that they entered the gates alongside the defenders.
Escape and Reconciliation
Despite the defeat, Hathi Khan escaped through the rugged ravines north of the fortress, passing through what is now remembered as Hathi Gate.
Babur captured Pharwala—but holding it was another matter.
Maintaining a permanent garrison in such remote terrain would have proven costly and impractical. Recognizing this, Babur chose diplomacy.
Hathi Khan sent envoys offering submission.
Babur accepted.
In an act of calculated pragmatism, he restored the fortress to Hathi Khan and even conferred upon him the title Sultan, integrating the Gakhars into the Mughal political order.
The Fall of Hathi Khan
Yet Hathi Khan’s restoration was short-lived. The deeper threat came not from Babur but from the unresolved blood feud within the Gakhar family.
Sarang Khan and Adam Khan, the sons of the murdered Tatar Khan, gradually rallied the Gakhar clans against their father’s killer. Around 1520, Sarang emerged as the new chief of the Gakhars—likely with Babur’s tacit approval. The Mughal ruler may have concluded that Tatar Khan’s lineage would prove the more reliable ally.
Hathi Khan vanished from the center of power.
Several traditions claim that Sarang eventually had him poisoned, an ironic reversal of the earlier murder of Tatar Khan.
In Search of the Fallen Chief
In 2016, accompanied by Salman Rashid and Ammad Ali, I set out to locate Hathi Khan’s final resting place. Our journey took us toward Dhan Gali, where we encountered a ruined dam associated with Rani Mungo, a figure said to have bathed there under the watchful eyes of her army. Examining the masonry, Salman estimated the structure to be between five and ten centuries old. It felt as though we had crossed a threshold into Hathi’s forgotten dominion.
In the village of Dhan Gali, we inspected an ancient accommodation called the Hathi Kothi. Local legend claimed it had once served as a stable for Hathi Khan’s war elephants. Yet the building’s modest dimensions quickly dispelled the notion. Observing its size, I could not help but laugh at the idea. If elephants had been housed there, they must have been the size of ponies.
Rani Mungo’s “Palace”
Nearby stood another structure known locally as Rani Mungo da Mahal. Salman took one look at it and smiled. “This is a mosque,” he said. The eastern doorway and the unmistakable mihrab in the western wall left little room for doubt. Several graves outside the structure—aligned north to south—confirmed the interpretation.
Subsequent research revealed that Rani Mungo was, in fact, the wife of Sultan Sarang Khan.
The Grave at Bhalakhar
Our true objective lay further northwest near the village of Bhalakhar, close to Kallar Syedan. Several prominent Gakhar elders had pointed us toward the site.
Following directions from a local cowherd, we crossed a shallow stream and climbed a small incline into a grove of peepal trees.
There, hidden in the undergrowth, we found it.
A weathered, keel-shaped grave marker crudely plastered with lime mortar.
Salman and I exchanged the same glance of excitement familiar to anyone who has spent years chasing historical traces.
Unlike the polished marble grave in the main graveyard of Kallar Syedan—where modern tradition claims Hathi Khan died in 1532—this grave felt far older and more authentic.
Given Sarang Khan’s hatred for the man who murdered his father, it seemed unlikely that he would have permitted his enemy a prominent burial.
Perhaps we did find Hathi Khan that day beneath the peepal trees. Regardless, the pursuit itself remains one of the most rewarding journeys of my career.
Reflections and Revisions
A decade has passed since that expedition, yet the Gakhars continue to exert a pull on my scholarly imagination. I recently observed the installation of Sultan Sarang Khan’s statue at Dina—profoundly ironic, as it stands where a monument to Sher Shah Suri once stood. It was Sher Shah, after all, who built Rohtas Fort to suppress the Gakhars after they denied him passage along the Raj Paath (later the Jurnaily Sarak aka The Grand Trunk Road).
Time and further research have necessitated two corrections to my earlier findings:
Hathi Kothi: I now believe this was indeed Hathi Khan's personal residence during his final years; the name likely refers to his own presence there.
Rani Mungo: Originally from the Janjua clan, she emerges in the Kai Gohar Nama, a Gakhar chronicle, as the wife of Sultan Murad Quli Khan, a seventeenth-century Gakhar ruler. After his death in 1674, she assumed authority over the Gakhar state and is remembered as the only warrior queen of the Gakhars. During her rule she is credited with constructing a large dam for military purposes and building mosques and an Eidgah in the Dhan Gali region. Her daughter, Mahparah Bano, was later married in 1676 to Prince Muhammad Akbar, the fourth son of the Mughal emperor Aurangzeb. It is said that through her leadership Rani Mungo ultimately succeeded in reconciling and uniting the long-rival Gakhars and Janjuas.
The New Twist
This photo from 2025 shows the grave of Hathi Khan Gakhar. When we saw it in 2016, it was little more than a dilapidated rubble mound. A soiled green cloth, soaked in oil, lay over the grave, with a few small lamps placed beside it and another grave adjoining it. The present image indicates that the site has since been refurbished, with the structure repaired and a proper headstone now affixed.
A Note on Gakhar Origins
I personally find the Kai Gohar Nama historically unreliable. Its assertion that the Gakhars migrated from Iran around 1000 AD contradicts the considerable evidence that they are an indigenous people of the Salt Range.
Muhammad Qasim Ferishta, in his Tarikh-i-Ferishta, describes the Gakhars not as Persian immigrants but as a fiercely independent tribe inhabiting the Salt Range long before the arrival of Islamic or Persianate influence. During the campaigns of Mahmud of Ghazni in the eleventh century, Ferishta records that the Gakhars nearly defeated the Sultan’s army. He further notes that they only embraced Islam during the later Ghorid period.
Had the Gakhars truly descended from Persian nobility, one would expect them to have arrived with a clearly defined Islamic or Zoroastrian identity. Instead, early chroniclers described them as polytheists.
Modern DNA studies reinforce this conclusion, confirming that the Gakhars share genetic markers with neighboring Indo-Aryan populations rather than any distinct Persian ancestry.
However, I am still inclined to believe that the account of Rani Mungo holds a measure of truth. The Kai Gohar Nama was composed in 1725—barely a few decades after Rani Mungo’s supposed reign from 1674 to 1705 — and thus stands relatively close to the events it describes.
A Note on the GT Road
The modern name Grand Trunk Road was given by the British administration in the 19th century, particularly during the massive road reconstruction program between 1833 and 1860. The British used the term “trunk road” to mean a major arterial highway connecting important cities. Because this road connected the main regions of the Indian subcontinent, they called it the Grand Trunk Road.
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