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Tipu Sultan: Villain or Hero?
This book is a collection of articles about Tipu Sultan with lot of facts and references.
99 pages, Unknown Binding
130 people want to read
About the author
Sita Ram Goel
50 books208 followersSita Ram Goel (16 October 1921 – 3 December 2003) was an Indian religious and political activist, writer and publisher in the late twentieth century. He had Marxist leanings during the 1940s, but later became an outspoken anti-communist and also wrote extensively on the damage to Indian culture and heritage wrought by expansionist Islam and missionary activities of Christianity. In his later career he emerged as a commentator on Indian politics, and adhered to Hindu nationalism.
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November 20, 2025
Some books offer a polite alternative perspective, whispering a counterargument. Then there is Sita Ram Goel’s ‘Tipu Sultan: Villain or Hero?’, which does not so much ‘suggest’ as it does stride into the room, kick over the propaganda-laden pedestal, yank the velvet cloth off the carefully polished legend of Tipu Sultan, and mutter, “Alright. Now let’s look at the real man.”
The sheer nerve of the book is electrifying. Goel is not here to perform the standard dance of academic caution or ideological appeasement. He is here to do something far more subversive: tell the truth as the documents reveal it, not as the modern political climate wishes it to be.
And when the archival dust settles, the Tipu that emerges is a man light-years away from the secular, proto-nationalist, anti-colonial superhero enshrined in popular imagination.
Reading Goel’s work is like watching a long-grown myth deflate in slow motion. It is not done cruelly; it is done clinically. Goel does not sneer or moralize. He simply lifts up the archival evidence — Tipu's own letters, Persian proclamations, administrative orders, eyewitness accounts by contemporaries, travelogues, regional chronicles — and places them in the reader’s hands.
And in doing so, he forces you to confront the raw, unembellished reality of a man who has been mythologized beyond recognition. If modern political storytelling turned Tipu into a majestic tiger, Goel’s meticulous examination reveals something far more ordinary and far more dangerous: a deeply intolerant medieval absolutist who mistook brutality for policy and zealotry for statesmanship.
What is immediately striking about Goel’s book is its absolute refusal to indulge in hagiography. He doesn’t care who has a statue of Tipu, who celebrates him, or who needs him for ideological fuel. He cuts straight to the core. The widely advertised image of Tipu as a secular king falls apart almost instantly once Goel begins quoting from Tipu’s own correspondence — letters that drip with religious triumphalism, divine-war rhetoric, and a fixation on converting or subjugating populations under a theopolitical vision.
It becomes simply impossible, unless one is actively invested in self-delusion, to maintain the fiction that Tipu’s administration was built on any notion resembling secular governance. The man was unapologetically medieval in worldview and ardently committed to a religio-political mission. Goel doesn’t even have to argue this; Tipu’s own pen does the work.
And then there is the much-cherished claim that Tipu was an early freedom fighter battling for India. Goel all but chuckles at this. The book demonstrates with stark clarity that Tipu’s loyalties began and ended with Mysore — or rather, with an expansionist Mysore under his own unchallenged authority. His hatred of the British was not born from any proto-nationalism, but from the simple fact that they were the biggest obstacle to his territorial ambitions. He wanted cannons, cavalry, French alliances, a technological upper hand — not for the subcontinent, but for his own imperial designs.
The anti-British narrative attached to him in the postcolonial imagination is retrofitted; Tipu was no more a freedom fighter than any other premodern monarch defending his turf. He fought for dominion, not for liberty. His dream state was not a liberated India but an expanded Mysore running on religious authority, militaristic expansion, and rigid control. Nationalism did not exist in his political vocabulary; conquest did.
The biggest shock of Goel’s analysis is not even the ideological part — it is the brutality, and the sheer volume of it, that has been quietly brushed aside for decades. Goel’s reconstruction of Tipu’s campaigns in Malabar, Coorg, Mangalore, and beyond reads like a relentless charge sheet. These are not British inventions, nor the fantasies of rival kingdoms; Goel goes straight to Persian records, local manuscripts, and Tipu’s own administrative orders. The result is a devastating portrait of a man for whom coercion was not an occasional instrument but a central governing principle.
Forced conversions were not rare aberrations; they were systematized. Temple destruction was not incidental collateral; it was targeted and recorded. Entire populations were relocated, enslaved, or punished for resisting his rule. The clinical tone with which these actions are documented makes them all the more chilling. Goel does not dramatize — he inventories.
Even Tipu’s much-hailed administrative genius takes a beating under Goel’s scrutiny. Far from being a progressive modernizer, Tipu emerges as an economic micromanager of almost comical proportions. He micromanaged trade, agriculture, taxation, and industry — strangling private enterprise and overloading the state apparatus with obsessive control. Instead of encouraging open markets, he imposed suffocating monopolies on commodities ranging from betel nut to sandalwood. Instead of stimulating productivity, he drowned his subjects in regulatory overreach.
The supposed economic modernization of Mysore begins to look less like innovation and more like authoritarian overengineering. If Tipu were a software program, he would push updates daily, each one breaking something else in the system.
What makes Goel’s critique so compelling is the precision of his method. He does not rant. He does not lament. He does not indulge in ideological mudslinging. Instead, he employs a logic that feels almost mathematical: a claim is made about Tipu, the claim is measured against primary sources, the claim collapses, and Goel moves on.
The book becomes a long procession of myths dying quiet deaths — not from outrage, but from evidence. And because the evidence is so overwhelming, so multi-sourced, so diverse in origin, it becomes impossible for any honest reader to walk away still clinging to the old mythologies.
Perhaps the most remarkable achievement of Goel’s book is the way it contextualizes Tipu within the broader problem of historical memory. The issue is not merely that Tipu has been misrepresented; it is that the mechanisms of modern nation-building required him to be misrepresented. The need for anti-colonial heroes in the twentieth century, the search for unified nationalist icons, the ideological convenience of casting certain medieval figures as proto-liberators — all of this led to a collective willingness to ignore or sanitize the darker chapters of Tipu’s reign. Goel’s work becomes not only a biography but a critique of the very process through which India constructs its historical icons.
Yet, Goel never asks the reader to hate Tipu. What he asks is far more radical: that the reader see him clearly. To recognize that a man can fight colonial powers and still not be a champion of freedom. That a ruler can display occasional administrative talent while still governing through fear and intolerance.
That resisting the British, by itself, does not make someone a hero — especially if that resistance is rooted in personal ambition rather than public good. Goel reclaims nuance in a debate that had long been flattened into simplistic binaries.
By the time the book concludes, Tipu Sultan no longer resembles the gleaming, righteous figure painted by textbooks and modern political narratives. He appears instead as what he historically was: a medieval autocrat shaped by his time, limited by his worldview, driven by expansionist dreams, and unafraid to use coercion as a tool of rule. He was neither demon nor demigod — merely a ruler whose legacy was polished into something he never was.
Goel’s book remains indispensable not because it “takes a side,” but because it insists on returning history to its rightful domain: evidence. It challenges us to abandon the lazy comforts of mythology and confront the complexities of power, ambition, and violence in premodern statecraft. And in doing so, it becomes one of the boldest acts of truth-telling in Indian historiography — a reminder that intellectual honesty is far more valuable than inherited legends.
Tipu Sultan may continue to have admirers, statues, and political champions, but after reading Goel’s meticulous dismantling of the myth, one realizes that admiration must at least be grounded in the truth, not in the shimmering illusions constructed long after the man was gone.
‘Tipu Sultan: Villain or Hero?’ refuses to let myth triumph over evidence, and in our age of political rewriting, that refusal is nothing short of revolutionary.
Most recommended.
The sheer nerve of the book is electrifying. Goel is not here to perform the standard dance of academic caution or ideological appeasement. He is here to do something far more subversive: tell the truth as the documents reveal it, not as the modern political climate wishes it to be.
And when the archival dust settles, the Tipu that emerges is a man light-years away from the secular, proto-nationalist, anti-colonial superhero enshrined in popular imagination.
Reading Goel’s work is like watching a long-grown myth deflate in slow motion. It is not done cruelly; it is done clinically. Goel does not sneer or moralize. He simply lifts up the archival evidence — Tipu's own letters, Persian proclamations, administrative orders, eyewitness accounts by contemporaries, travelogues, regional chronicles — and places them in the reader’s hands.
And in doing so, he forces you to confront the raw, unembellished reality of a man who has been mythologized beyond recognition. If modern political storytelling turned Tipu into a majestic tiger, Goel’s meticulous examination reveals something far more ordinary and far more dangerous: a deeply intolerant medieval absolutist who mistook brutality for policy and zealotry for statesmanship.
What is immediately striking about Goel’s book is its absolute refusal to indulge in hagiography. He doesn’t care who has a statue of Tipu, who celebrates him, or who needs him for ideological fuel. He cuts straight to the core. The widely advertised image of Tipu as a secular king falls apart almost instantly once Goel begins quoting from Tipu’s own correspondence — letters that drip with religious triumphalism, divine-war rhetoric, and a fixation on converting or subjugating populations under a theopolitical vision.
It becomes simply impossible, unless one is actively invested in self-delusion, to maintain the fiction that Tipu’s administration was built on any notion resembling secular governance. The man was unapologetically medieval in worldview and ardently committed to a religio-political mission. Goel doesn’t even have to argue this; Tipu’s own pen does the work.
And then there is the much-cherished claim that Tipu was an early freedom fighter battling for India. Goel all but chuckles at this. The book demonstrates with stark clarity that Tipu’s loyalties began and ended with Mysore — or rather, with an expansionist Mysore under his own unchallenged authority. His hatred of the British was not born from any proto-nationalism, but from the simple fact that they were the biggest obstacle to his territorial ambitions. He wanted cannons, cavalry, French alliances, a technological upper hand — not for the subcontinent, but for his own imperial designs.
The anti-British narrative attached to him in the postcolonial imagination is retrofitted; Tipu was no more a freedom fighter than any other premodern monarch defending his turf. He fought for dominion, not for liberty. His dream state was not a liberated India but an expanded Mysore running on religious authority, militaristic expansion, and rigid control. Nationalism did not exist in his political vocabulary; conquest did.
The biggest shock of Goel’s analysis is not even the ideological part — it is the brutality, and the sheer volume of it, that has been quietly brushed aside for decades. Goel’s reconstruction of Tipu’s campaigns in Malabar, Coorg, Mangalore, and beyond reads like a relentless charge sheet. These are not British inventions, nor the fantasies of rival kingdoms; Goel goes straight to Persian records, local manuscripts, and Tipu’s own administrative orders. The result is a devastating portrait of a man for whom coercion was not an occasional instrument but a central governing principle.
Forced conversions were not rare aberrations; they were systematized. Temple destruction was not incidental collateral; it was targeted and recorded. Entire populations were relocated, enslaved, or punished for resisting his rule. The clinical tone with which these actions are documented makes them all the more chilling. Goel does not dramatize — he inventories.
Even Tipu’s much-hailed administrative genius takes a beating under Goel’s scrutiny. Far from being a progressive modernizer, Tipu emerges as an economic micromanager of almost comical proportions. He micromanaged trade, agriculture, taxation, and industry — strangling private enterprise and overloading the state apparatus with obsessive control. Instead of encouraging open markets, he imposed suffocating monopolies on commodities ranging from betel nut to sandalwood. Instead of stimulating productivity, he drowned his subjects in regulatory overreach.
The supposed economic modernization of Mysore begins to look less like innovation and more like authoritarian overengineering. If Tipu were a software program, he would push updates daily, each one breaking something else in the system.
What makes Goel’s critique so compelling is the precision of his method. He does not rant. He does not lament. He does not indulge in ideological mudslinging. Instead, he employs a logic that feels almost mathematical: a claim is made about Tipu, the claim is measured against primary sources, the claim collapses, and Goel moves on.
The book becomes a long procession of myths dying quiet deaths — not from outrage, but from evidence. And because the evidence is so overwhelming, so multi-sourced, so diverse in origin, it becomes impossible for any honest reader to walk away still clinging to the old mythologies.
Perhaps the most remarkable achievement of Goel’s book is the way it contextualizes Tipu within the broader problem of historical memory. The issue is not merely that Tipu has been misrepresented; it is that the mechanisms of modern nation-building required him to be misrepresented. The need for anti-colonial heroes in the twentieth century, the search for unified nationalist icons, the ideological convenience of casting certain medieval figures as proto-liberators — all of this led to a collective willingness to ignore or sanitize the darker chapters of Tipu’s reign. Goel’s work becomes not only a biography but a critique of the very process through which India constructs its historical icons.
Yet, Goel never asks the reader to hate Tipu. What he asks is far more radical: that the reader see him clearly. To recognize that a man can fight colonial powers and still not be a champion of freedom. That a ruler can display occasional administrative talent while still governing through fear and intolerance.
That resisting the British, by itself, does not make someone a hero — especially if that resistance is rooted in personal ambition rather than public good. Goel reclaims nuance in a debate that had long been flattened into simplistic binaries.
By the time the book concludes, Tipu Sultan no longer resembles the gleaming, righteous figure painted by textbooks and modern political narratives. He appears instead as what he historically was: a medieval autocrat shaped by his time, limited by his worldview, driven by expansionist dreams, and unafraid to use coercion as a tool of rule. He was neither demon nor demigod — merely a ruler whose legacy was polished into something he never was.
Goel’s book remains indispensable not because it “takes a side,” but because it insists on returning history to its rightful domain: evidence. It challenges us to abandon the lazy comforts of mythology and confront the complexities of power, ambition, and violence in premodern statecraft. And in doing so, it becomes one of the boldest acts of truth-telling in Indian historiography — a reminder that intellectual honesty is far more valuable than inherited legends.
Tipu Sultan may continue to have admirers, statues, and political champions, but after reading Goel’s meticulous dismantling of the myth, one realizes that admiration must at least be grounded in the truth, not in the shimmering illusions constructed long after the man was gone.
‘Tipu Sultan: Villain or Hero?’ refuses to let myth triumph over evidence, and in our age of political rewriting, that refusal is nothing short of revolutionary.
Most recommended.
January 30, 2020
As I go through the annals of history of the so called Sher-e-Mysore, the dark truths abt his cruel barbaric rule gets unveiled layer by layer, which our pseudo secular historians have been grilling into the young minds since independence, undoubtedly to comply to the directives of their political masters who r worried for nothing but their vote banks in name of secularism.
Every true soul from Malabar region of Kerala including Kozhikode, Calicut, Mangalore and Coorg etc must read this book unbiased and honestly.
Every true soul from Malabar region of Kerala including Kozhikode, Calicut, Mangalore and Coorg etc must read this book unbiased and honestly.
May 4, 2021
He wanted to become an Emperor after defeating the British. He wanted to achieve his ambition after consulting the astrologers. There were a few Brahmin astrologers in Sree Ranganatha Swami Temple.
They predicted that if some of the suggested remedial rituals were performed, Tipu would achieve his cherished ambition. Believing that he could become the undisputed ruler of the whole of South India, after defeating the British, he performed all the suggested rituals in the Sree Ranaganatha Swami Temple, besides giving costly presents to the astrologers.
This act is being widely interpreted by secularist historians as love and respect for Hindu religion and traditions! They also doubt if there were any Hindu temples which were desecrated or destroyed by Tipu Sultan and his Islamic army in Malabar.
The reputed historian, Lewis Rice, who wrote the History of Mysore after going through various official records, stated as follows: “In the vast empire of Tipu Sultan on the eve of his death, there were only two Hindu temples having daily pujas within the Sreerangapatanam fortress. It is only for the satisfaction of the Brahmin astrologers who used to study his horoscope that Tipu Sultan had spared those two temples. The entire wealth of eveiy Hindu temple was confiscated before 1790 itself mainly to make up for the revenue loss due to total prohibition in the country.”
There are people who proclaim to the world that Tipu Sultan’s rule was fair and progressive in his own state of Mysore. It would be appropriate to have a look at what a Mysorean, M.A. Gopal Rao, stated a few years ago in one of his articles:
“In a deliberately designed taxation scheme, the religious prejudice of Tipu Sultan became quite clear. His co-religionists, Muslims, were exempted from house tax, commodity tax and also the levy on other items of household use. Those who were converted to Muhammadanism, were also given similar tax exemptions.
He had even made provisions for the education of their children. Tipu Sultan discontinued the practice of appointing Hindus in different administrative and military jobs as practised by his father, Hyder Ali Khan, in the past. He had deep hatred towards all non-Muslims. During the entire period of sixteen years of his regime, Purnaiyya was the only Hindu who had adorned the post of Dewan or minister under Tipu Sultan. In 1797 (two years before his death) among the 65 senior Government posts, not even a single Hindu was retained.
All the Mustadirs were also Muslims. Among the 26 civil and military officers captured by the British in 1792 there were only 6 non-Muslims. In 1789, when the Nizam of Hyderabad and other Muslim rulers decided that only Muslims would be appointed henceforth in all Government posts, Tipu Sultan also adopted the same policy in his Mysore State. Just because they were Muslims, even those who were illiterate and inefficient, were also appointed to important Government posts. Even for getting promotions, one still had to be a Muslim under Tipu Sultan’s regime. Considering the interest and convenience of only Muslim officers, all the records relating to tax revenue, were ordered to be written in Persian rather than in Marathi and Kannada as followed earlier.
He even tried to make Persian the State language in place of Kannada. In the end all the Government posts were filled by lazy and irresponsible Muslims. As a consequence the people had to suffer a great deal because of those fun-seeking and irresponsible Muslim officers. The Muslim officers, occupying important posts at all levels, were all dishonest and unreliable persons.
Even when people complained to him with evidences against those officers, Tipu Sultan did not care to inquire about the complaints lodged.”
I rest my case hence.
They predicted that if some of the suggested remedial rituals were performed, Tipu would achieve his cherished ambition. Believing that he could become the undisputed ruler of the whole of South India, after defeating the British, he performed all the suggested rituals in the Sree Ranaganatha Swami Temple, besides giving costly presents to the astrologers.
This act is being widely interpreted by secularist historians as love and respect for Hindu religion and traditions! They also doubt if there were any Hindu temples which were desecrated or destroyed by Tipu Sultan and his Islamic army in Malabar.
The reputed historian, Lewis Rice, who wrote the History of Mysore after going through various official records, stated as follows: “In the vast empire of Tipu Sultan on the eve of his death, there were only two Hindu temples having daily pujas within the Sreerangapatanam fortress. It is only for the satisfaction of the Brahmin astrologers who used to study his horoscope that Tipu Sultan had spared those two temples. The entire wealth of eveiy Hindu temple was confiscated before 1790 itself mainly to make up for the revenue loss due to total prohibition in the country.”
There are people who proclaim to the world that Tipu Sultan’s rule was fair and progressive in his own state of Mysore. It would be appropriate to have a look at what a Mysorean, M.A. Gopal Rao, stated a few years ago in one of his articles:
“In a deliberately designed taxation scheme, the religious prejudice of Tipu Sultan became quite clear. His co-religionists, Muslims, were exempted from house tax, commodity tax and also the levy on other items of household use. Those who were converted to Muhammadanism, were also given similar tax exemptions.
He had even made provisions for the education of their children. Tipu Sultan discontinued the practice of appointing Hindus in different administrative and military jobs as practised by his father, Hyder Ali Khan, in the past. He had deep hatred towards all non-Muslims. During the entire period of sixteen years of his regime, Purnaiyya was the only Hindu who had adorned the post of Dewan or minister under Tipu Sultan. In 1797 (two years before his death) among the 65 senior Government posts, not even a single Hindu was retained.
All the Mustadirs were also Muslims. Among the 26 civil and military officers captured by the British in 1792 there were only 6 non-Muslims. In 1789, when the Nizam of Hyderabad and other Muslim rulers decided that only Muslims would be appointed henceforth in all Government posts, Tipu Sultan also adopted the same policy in his Mysore State. Just because they were Muslims, even those who were illiterate and inefficient, were also appointed to important Government posts. Even for getting promotions, one still had to be a Muslim under Tipu Sultan’s regime. Considering the interest and convenience of only Muslim officers, all the records relating to tax revenue, were ordered to be written in Persian rather than in Marathi and Kannada as followed earlier.
He even tried to make Persian the State language in place of Kannada. In the end all the Government posts were filled by lazy and irresponsible Muslims. As a consequence the people had to suffer a great deal because of those fun-seeking and irresponsible Muslim officers. The Muslim officers, occupying important posts at all levels, were all dishonest and unreliable persons.
Even when people complained to him with evidences against those officers, Tipu Sultan did not care to inquire about the complaints lodged.”
I rest my case hence.
May 5, 2019
This book is basically a collection of articles which contain facts backing with documents/source references mentioned in book.
Some political party use Tipu Sultan to make hero out of him and used him to appeased some community. Such a shame. He was no hero. He was a mass murderer. He slaughtered many Hindus in the name of religion and extend his empire. Read this book to know the real Tipu Sultan.
Some political party use Tipu Sultan to make hero out of him and used him to appeased some community. Such a shame. He was no hero. He was a mass murderer. He slaughtered many Hindus in the name of religion and extend his empire. Read this book to know the real Tipu Sultan.
April 14, 2022
"Sword or Cap" no one told me that..he is potrayed as true patriot, tolerant person in the poison being fed in school ncerts.. even so called good books like bipin chandra pal doesn't mention the atrocities inflicted by him and paint him as great patriot, tolerant person. This book presents the man and his motives to become emporer of india which is by overthrowing the british his only conquests being in malabar displaying his true colours..forcing lakhs to convert, circumcision..his requests to napoleon to join and overthrow the british, persian was made official language of his time not kannada or marathi..The rationale behind his land grants and help to sringeri mutt are mentioned..first hand accounts of travellers like fra bartolomeau, district magistrates, collectors (british), even himself are stated.. nice short read . Sad to see there is no mention in our history of warriors like Dharma raja and Raja keshavadas with a smaller army defeated invading tipu army at travancore to protect their faith and gave refuge to hindus who fled their homes.
September 19, 2024
Whether it is tipu sultan or akbar or britishers,when It comes to India,all invaders are now treated as some god sent people who taught us,and saved us and what not!!
And there are majority of Indians who actually believe this,and they propagate the same. What must have changed in us to whitewash and justify the killings of our own and those who try to speak the truth are given the demeaning names and loathed as if they are the invaders!
Few years ago,I asked one of my friend(who is from karnataka-Maharshtra border) to name some freedom fighters from her state so that I can get to know about them as well, as we were taught only about a few in the school.She told me just one name-Tipu sultan.
Coming back to the book, it's a short book full of facts, letters written by Tipu himself as a proof of how much he loved this nation that he had to kill innumerable people in the name of Islam, ruin temples, and ask others from Arab countries to do the same in the north of India!
Oh, what a patriot!
Various additional references and a fight to stop Doordarshan's glorification of this invasion, it shows how individuals modify history by writing a book without any references (or guilt), or creating a movie/serial, all in the name of artistic liberty and communal harmony.
It only happens in my nation.
And there are majority of Indians who actually believe this,and they propagate the same. What must have changed in us to whitewash and justify the killings of our own and those who try to speak the truth are given the demeaning names and loathed as if they are the invaders!
Few years ago,I asked one of my friend(who is from karnataka-Maharshtra border) to name some freedom fighters from her state so that I can get to know about them as well, as we were taught only about a few in the school.She told me just one name-Tipu sultan.
Coming back to the book, it's a short book full of facts, letters written by Tipu himself as a proof of how much he loved this nation that he had to kill innumerable people in the name of Islam, ruin temples, and ask others from Arab countries to do the same in the north of India!
Oh, what a patriot!
Various additional references and a fight to stop Doordarshan's glorification of this invasion, it shows how individuals modify history by writing a book without any references (or guilt), or creating a movie/serial, all in the name of artistic liberty and communal harmony.
It only happens in my nation.
March 5, 2022
This is an anthology of articles telling the truth behind the favorite hero of secularists 'Tipu Sultan'. A lot of facts are brought to light about a religious fanatic whose opposition against the British is used to portray him as a hero which in fact he did to protect his kingdom and power.
May 20, 2021
The book is about the controversy surrounding the telecast of tipu sultan play on DD National. How the Hindus tried to legally stop it but were denied any help from the judicial or political sphere.
Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews