Indian history is often narrated as a grand, masculine epic—a chronicle of kings, conquerors, and male martyrs. Yet, woven into the very fabric of this narrative, sometimes in hidden threads, are stories of unparalleled courage and strategic brilliance that belong to women. These are not just tales of valor; they are testaments to leadership that shaped the fate of empires, defended homelands, and defied the constraints of their time. To forget them is to tell only half of our history. This is an attempt to reclaim the legacies of some of India’s most formidable, yet often forgotten, women warriors.
The popular discourse remembers the Rani of Jhansi, and rightfully so. But she was not an anomaly. She was part of a powerful lineage of women who, for centuries, picked up the sword when duty demanded. Their stories were suppressed by colonial historians who found strong native women inconvenient to their narrative of a passive land needing civilization, and later, by a patriarchal lens that simply chose not to look for them.
The Chakravarti Queen: Ahilyabai Holkar
Often celebrated as a benevolent administrator and a prolific builder of temples (including the iconic Kashi Vishwanath), Ahilyabai Holkar’s role as a military strategist is largely glossed over. After the deaths of her father-in-law, Malhar Rao Holkar, and her young son, Male Rao, the Maratha Confederacy looked poised to absorb the Holkar dominion. The council of ministers pleaded with Ahilyabai to adopt a son and retire to the temple.
She refused. Donning the armour of a ruler, she ascended the throne of Indore in 1767. For the next three decades, she personally led her army into battle, sitting on an elephant at the forefront. She protected her kingdom from the aggressive advances of the Bhils, the Gonds, and even other Maratha chieftains. She wasn’t just a figurehead; she was the commander-in-chief, planning campaigns, fortifying defenses, and ensuring the stability of the Malwa region. Her military acumen provided the secure foundation upon which her legendary peacetime prosperity was built.
The Veerangini of Gujarat: Rani Naiki Devi
In 1178, the shores of Gujarat trembled under the advance of Muhammad Ghori, the ruthless invader from Ghazni. He had already tasted victory in Punjab and was marching south, expecting an easy conquest. The ruler of the Chalukya kingdom, Mularaja II, was just a boy. The court was plunged into despair. It was then that his mother, Rani Naiki Devi, a princess from the powerful Kadamba kingdom, took charge.
She did not wait for the enemy to lay siege. Instead, she devised a brilliant tactical plan. She led the Chalukyan army herself and lured Ghori’s forces into the rugged terrain of Mount Abu near the village of Kasahrada. Here, in the narrow gorges where his cavalry’s mobility was useless, Naiki Devi’s forces launched a devastating ambush. The Ghurid army was decimated. Muhammad Ghori was handed one of the most crushing defeats of his career and was forced to retreat to Ghazni, nursing his wounds. It would be another 15 years before he dared to return to India. Rani Naiki Devi’s victory preserved India’s western flank for a crucial period, yet her story remains confined to obscure footnotes.
The Legendary Commander: Rani Durgavati of Gondwana
The name of Rani Durgavati is synonymous with defiant courage. After the death of her husband, Dalpat Shah, in 1550, she took the reins of the Gond kingdom in central India as regent for her infant son. Under her wise and fierce leadership, the kingdom prospered. She moved her capital to the strategically formidable Chauragarh fort, built a strong military, and extended her realm.
Her glory, however, attracted the attention of the Mughal Emperor Akbar’s general, Asaf Khan, who was expanding the imperial territory. In 1564, he invaded Gondwana with a massive, well-equipped army. Outnumbered and outgunned, Rani Durgavati’s advisors suggested retreat. Her famous reply echoes through time: “Better to die with glory than live with dishonour.”
She led the charge on her elephant, fighting ferociously. She was struck by two arrows. Seeing defeat imminent, she did not allow herself to be captured by the enemy. Instead, she took her own dagger and ended her life, choosing death over subjugation. Her martyrdom became a rallying cry for resistance against Mughal expansion.
The Naval Warrior: Rani Abbakka Chowta of Ullal
While warriors defended the heartland, the coast had its own protectors. In the 16th century, the Portuguese Armada was the dominant naval power, controlling trade routes and establishing colonies along the western coast. They set their sights on the prosperous port of Ullal in present-day Karnataka. They expected little resistance from its ruler, Rani Abbakka Chowta, of the Tuluva dynasty.
They were wrong. Abbakka became the first Tuluva Queen to fight and repeatedly defeat the Portuguese. For over four decades, she stymied their advances. She mastered the art of guerrilla warfare, forging alliances with local chieftains and even with the Zamorin of Calicut, a rival of the Portuguese. She is celebrated for her use of a militia of diverse communities, including the fierce Billava archers.
In one of her most famous victories, she launched a daring night attack on the Portuguese fort in Mangalore, burning it to the ground. She was eventually captured but is said to have died a prisoner, still defiant. Abbakka’s resistance protected the cultural and economic sovereignty of her land against the first wave of European colonialism.
The Legacy That Refuses to Fade
The stories of Ahilyabai, Naiki Devi, Durgavati, and Abbakka are just a glimpse into a vast and rich tapestry. We must also remember:
- Rani Chennamma of Kittur, who led an armed rebellion against the British East India Company decades before the 1857 revolt.
- Onake Obavva, who single-handedly fought Hyder Ali’s soldiers with a pestle (onake).
- The Naga Warrior Women of the Northeast, who fought alongside men in defending their villages.
Remembering these women is not an exercise in nostalgia. It is a crucial act of historical reclamation. It corrects the record, proving that agency, strategy, and raw courage are not male monopolies. It provides powerful role models for a new generation. Most importantly, it completes our understanding of the Indian past, revealing it as a story not just of kings and their thrones, but of queens and their unwavering will to protect their people and their sovereignty. Their silence in our textbooks is deafening; it is time we amplified their stories until they become an unshakeable part of our national consciousness.