The book is divided into three parts. The first, dealing with Aurangzeb’s years as a prince and the early decades of his reign, is perhaps the most original and persuasive. Faruqui challenges the conventional idea that Aurangzeb acquired the throne through treachery, luck, and violence against his elder brother Dara Shukoh. Instead, he presents his accession as the culmination of decades of preparation. Aurangzeb built extensive networks of support, cultivated a loyal and diverse household, gained military experience through difficult postings, and carefully managed his political reputation. His governorships of the Deccan, Gujarat, and Multan were particularly important. Often assigned the empire’s most difficult and economically troubled territories, Aurangzeb had to deal with drought, poor revenues, banditry, rebellious chiefs, and financial shortages. His frequent disagreements with Shah Jahan over inadequate funding further strengthened his administrative skills. Faruqui argues that these experiences transformed him into an exceptionally capable administrator and commander. Interestingly, the pre-emperor Aurangzeb does not fit neatly into the image of a religious extremist. He employed non-Muslims extensively and did not make conversion to Islam a condition of imperial service. The second part examines the role of Islam in Aurangzeb’s kingship. He was undoubtedly deeply religious, memorised the Quran, abstained from alcohol, abandoned certain courtly practices he regarded as un-Islamic, and attempted to align his personal conduct with his conception of Islamic morality. Yet Faruqui complicates the conventional narrative of systematic religious persecution. Temple destructions, for instance, are presented largely within the context of political and military conflicts, while evidence also exists of Aurangzeb granting endowments to non-Muslims, remitting taxes on temples, and honouring Hindu religious figures. This does not absolve him of brutal acts—the execution of Guru Tegh Bahadur and the suppression of the Jats and Satnamis remain deeply troubling—but suggests that imperial violence was often connected to maintaining political and social order rather than a consistent programme of forced Islamisation. The most sobering section concerns Aurangzeb’s prolonged Deccan campaigns. His decision to personally lead these campaigns from the 1680s onward ultimately became disastrous. Although Bijapur and Golconda were conquered and Sambhaji was executed, the Marathas adapted, while the prolonged warfare drained the empire’s finances and administrative capacity. Aurangzeb spent the final decades of his life in the Deccan, and the campaigns became increasingly difficult to sustain. The final chapter, dealing with Aurangzeb’s posthumous memory, is an appropriate conclusion. Faruqui shows how his supporters constructed a reverential image of the emperor after his death, motivated by loyalty, political interests, and attempts at rehabilitation. Overall, the book’s greatest strength is its refusal to reduce Aurangzeb to either a villain or a hero. It presents him as a complex historical figure whose piety, administrative ability, political strategy, and military decisions must be understood together. I would rate this book 4 out of 5 stars.