“If you are so concerned about the happenings in Iran, then go to Iran.” A Circle Officer from the Sambhal district of Uttar Pradesh, Kuldeep Kumar, commented on the ongoing demonstrations around the assassination of Iran’s Supreme Leader. Interestingly, the Pakistani Chief of Army Staff, Asim Munir, made a similar statement to the Shia clerics of Pakistan.

Despite all the differences between the opinions of the two countries, one remains common. Why are the Shias so concerned about the happenings in Iran?

Is it something new? Or does it have a long history?

The Iranian Islamic Revolution of 1979 received great support from the Indian Shia masses to an extent that Khomeini, Khamenei, and the changed Iranian flag became a common sight in Shia households, ranging from calendars to stickers on refrigerators and gates, and even on the cover pages of religious and cultural magazines. Shias of the Indian subcontinent saw the Pehlavi king of Iran as a tyrant and oppressor and supported the movement of resistance. Even the people who were not the supporters of Khomeini supported his idea of resistance against the Shah.

This perception was further shaped by the Pahlavi dynasty’s dismissive attitude towards the sanctity of holy shrines in Iran. In 1936, protests erupted in Mashhad against the Shah’s policies, and security forces ultimately responded with a violent crackdown on demonstrators who had gathered within the shrine complex of Imam Reza’s mausoleum. Acting on the Shah’s orders, security forces entered the mausoleum and carried out a brutal massacre.

Syed Ekram Abbas Rizvi, a poet and scholar based in Banaras, talking about his father, Syed Jarrar Hussain Rizvi—a retired engineer from the Indian Railways, a scholar, and publishing editor of the Intizar magazine—said that his father was among the people who were very vocal against the Islamic Revolution of Iran but still looked upon the Shah of Iran as a tyrant and cruel oppressor. He never hesitated in critiquing Khomeini and his ideas of forced Islam yet supported the revolution of the masses.”

Roots of solidarity

If we trace it back through history, there are many such events in West Asia that have triggered a large number of protests and expressions of solidarity from the Shias of the subcontinent. Syed Hasan, a former HOD, Persian Department, Patna University, in his article “Some Renowned Poets of Lucknow: In the Light of an Old Diary” (Urdu: “Lakhnaū ke Chand Nāmwar Shu‘arā: Ek Purāne Roznāmche kī Roshni meñ”), records an important account from the diary of Nawab Nejat Hussain Khan Ashki of Doolighat, Patna. He notes that on May 26, 1843, the Nawab attended a majlis held at the Imambara of Mir Baqar in Lucknow, where a prominent Shia poet, Mirza Dabir, was reciting.

According to the diary, Mirza Dabir ascended the pulpit and recited a long marsiya (elegy), describing the tragic events of Karbala and the sufferings of the martyrs. In this elegy, he also referred to recent incidents said to have taken place in Karbala in the recent months. The gathering was attended by nearly two thousand people, and the entire assembly was overcome with grief. The elegy spanning over 124 stanzas starts with the line:

Ae qahr e khuda rumiyon ko zer o zabar kar

(Oh wrath of god, destroy the people of Rum—the former name of Turkey.)

In the footnote, a statement from Nawab Nejat Husain Khan’s diary is cited. It claims that the appointed governor of Baghdad by the Ottoman authorities had ordered one of his commanders, for reasons unspecified, to march on Karbala. Accordingly, on the 11th of Dhu al-Hijjah 1258 Hijri, an attack was carried out in which more than twelve thousand residents of Karbala were killed. It is further stated that two thousand people were martyred within the shrine of Hazrat Abbas, and that the attackers looted valuables from the shrines, including silver and gold ornaments and treasury items, distributing them among the troops.

Mirza Abu Taleb Khan, a tax collector under the Nawab of Awadh, writes in his travelogue, “In the April of 1802, at a moment when a significant portion of Karbala’s inhabitants had departed to offer their devotions at the shrine in Najaf, an estimated force of 25,000 Wahhabis, mounted on swift camels and Arabian horses, launched a sudden incursion from the desert. Aided by collaborators within the town, they rapidly gained control over Karbala. What followed was a prolonged episode of violence and devastation. The attackers subjected the city to hours of massacre and plunder, targeting both its population and its sacred spaces. Numerous attempts were made to strip the mausoleum of its gold plates, while the tombs and surrounding structures were extensively damaged.”

Mirza Abu Taleb states that regular funds and endowments were transferred from Awadh to the holy Shia cities to repair, rebuild, and beautify the shrines. This process was further formalised and came to be known as the Awadh Bequest, which continued even after the fall of Awadh.

In the second half of the 19th century, the cultural links and transregional networks were strengthened and formalised which channelled vast sums, eventually exceeding Rs.60 lakh, towards the maintenance of shrine complexes, stipends for scholars, and support for pilgrims and the poor in these sacred centres from Awadh to the two Shia shrine cities of Najaf and Karbala.

Nawab Asaf al-Daula directed plenty of money to West Asia. He paid for a canal to bring water to Najaf, which is still known as the Asafiya or Hindiya Canal; a hostel for Indian pilgrims; and a library with seven hundred manuscripts in the same city. His government also restored a mosque in Kufa, the gates and market in Kazmain, and sent funds to support religious teachers and the poor in Karbala.

Awadhi religious scholars, pilgrims, and merchants travelled to sacred Shi‘i shrines which were also seats of learning. During the time of Nawab Asaf al-Daula, scholars studied in both Karbala and Najaf, and returned to Lucknow to lead local congregations.

The political upheavals, narratives and happenings in West Asia were transmitted to the Indian masses through majalis—a commemorative gathering central to Muharram observances. Within these assemblies, sermons, elegiac poetry (marsiya), and other recitations did more than recount the tragedy of Karbala; they situated it within a broader, ongoing history of suffering, resistance, and moral struggle.

Muharram and a legacy of resistance

Crucially, these commemorative spaces were not confined to a single community. In the Gangetic plains, Muharram evolved into a shared cultural practice, drawing participation from sections of the Hindu population as well. Through this process, the memory of Karbala and the contemporary experiences of Shi‘i communities in West Asia and other global conflicts were woven into a wider social fabric, transforming Muharram into a powerful medium of ethical reflection, collective solidarity, and resistance.

Najm Afandi, a celebrated Shi’i poet from Agra, in the early twentieth century evoking a profound sense of resistance and hope writes:

andhyara paap ke baadal ka sansaar pe jab chha jaata hai

ek chaand saroopi sooraj roopi mukhda dars dikhaata hai

(When the dark clouds of sin cast their shadow over the world, a radiant visage reveals itself)

jab maaya jag ko khaati hai jab aesi bipta aati hai

jab maalik aankh badalte hain ek banda aade aata hai

(When illusion consumes the realm and such calamity descends, when the masters become tyrants, a brave soul steps forward in defiance)

This elegy is still popularly recited as a Nauha in the Muharram processions of Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, and Karachi. Through these lines, Afandi situates Husayn not merely as a historical figure but as a universal symbol of resistance, whose defiance resonates far beyond Karbala. By invoking this imagery of moral peril and courage, the poet seeks to awaken the conscience and the collective memory of the non urdu-persian speaking masses.

While his contemporary Sir Mohammad Iqbal, looking at Islamic history with a different lens, boasts the conquest by Islamic empires. In his poem Shikwa (The Complaint), he writes:

Dasht to dasht hain dariya bhi na chhode ham ne

(We carried your exalted word not only across stretches of lands, we were undeterred by the might of the river)

bahr-e-zulmat meñ dauda diye ghode ham ne

(we rode into the darkest, unknown seas of the world )

Where Iqbal hails the conquest by Islamic empires like the Umayyads, Abbasids, and the Ottomans, and glorifies it as a golden period, Nathuni Lal Wahshi, a Bihari Hindu poet and another contemporary of Iqbal critiques this culture of violence and writes as a response:

hawas ho loot ki jisko wo baag kyoun mode

lagaayi aag khayabaan mein koh bhi tode

baqaul e hazrat e iqbal bahr kab chhode

chale jo seena e zulmaat par wahi ghode

palat ke waris e hayder ki lash par daude

sawaar e dosh e payambar ki lash par daude

(Why would those driven by the lust for plunder spare the garden?

They set the orchard ablaze and even shattered the mountains.

In the words of the esteemed Iqbal, when did [those horses] ever spare the sea?

Those very horses that galloped across the chest of darkness...

Turned back to trample the body of the heir of Haider [Ali],

And galloped over the remains of him who once rode the Prophet’s shoulders.)

Evoking the sheer brutality and moral blindness of forces driven by greed and power, Nathuni Lal Wahshi suggests that when violence is fuelled by plunder and domination, nothing remains sacred, neither gardens, nor landscapes. Commenting on the words of Iqbal, the poet reflects that the same force that conquered lands and crossed boundaries, turned back and trampled over the body of prophet’s grandson, Husayn. This piece of poetry also points to the growing sectarian tensions between Sunnis and Shias in Colonial India. Composed during the period of the Tabarra agitation, this marsiya by Wahshi emerges against a backdrop of escalating communal unrest, which culminated in widespread violence. In its wake, the Shia community undertook acts of civil disobedience against the Sunni Majority.

In 1939, Jawaharlal Nehru writes that it is quite extraordinary to realise the bitterness of feelings between the Shias and the Sunnis in a letter to Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel. Talking about the Tabarra agitation, a movement by the Shias against the previously banned celebration of Prophet’s Companions over the commemoration of his grandson’s martyrdom. Jawaharlal Nehru mentions that the Shia demand was that either the government should withhold the right given to the Sunnis for a procession in praise of the companions of the Prophet or should allow the Shias to curse these companions in public processions. Over time, the Sunni-Shia schism was aggravated, ultimately giving rise to entrenched animosity, and during this period of heightened tension, more than 9,500 Shias willingly submitted to arrest as part of the civil disobedience movement.

Since the Tabarra agitation, Sunni-Shia relations in the subcontinent have often been fraught, with communal tensions and sporadic violence leaving hardly any province untouched by sectarian rifts.

A rare cross-sectarian solidarity

Yet, a remarkable shift occurred in the wake of the assassination of Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ali Khamenei. Across India, Muslims from both sects expressed collective grief through joint processions and mourning gatherings, a striking and unusual response, given the long history of theological divergence and localised communal conflicts. Khamenei’s interventions in regional and global politics, particularly his steadfast opposition to Israeli policies in Palestine and his resistance to American imperialism, have positioned him as a symbolic unifier of the two sects. This resonates profoundly with the historical memory of Husayn’s martyrdom during Muharram, acting as a reminder to his resistance against tyranny, oppression, and moral injustice.

In South Asia, where the Palestinian cause resonates deeply across sectarian lines, Khamenei’s defiance of Israeli occupation and American imperialism provided a rare rallying point that transcended historical divisions, fostering a sense of solidarity and shared purpose. At a time when many Muslim-majority countries, who have crucial strategic ties with the US, remained largely silent on Palestine, Khamenei emerged as the “Rehbar” (the leader) for the Muslim community.

The concern and response of South Asian Shias over the happenings in Iran are not anomalies, but a continuation of a deep rooted history of transregional ties, shared memory of resistance and solidarity, expanding its depth and breadth with time. Instances of injustice, moral collapse, and oppression have historically been seen in parallel with the tragedy of Karbala, making the martyrdom of Husayn a moral and spiritual pivot for Shia resistance against tyranny in any era.

The community has responded in a range of ways to the challenges of the complex religious, social and political changes. Nevertheless, a fundamental form of expression for resistance or to extend their solidarity has been the propagation of ideas and galvanising the masses through the commemorative practices of Muharram. The community has been visible through their processions and audible through their majalis, marsiyas and nauhas. Hence, these historical experiences interwoven with cultural commemorative practices and collective memory have shaped a consciousness which is pivoted to the enduring adherence to resistance against tyranny and oppression.

Ainie Naqvi is a program associate at Institute for Social Democracy, New Delhi.

Also Read | Vishwaguru to Vishwa Ghrinit?

Also Read | Kashmir’s MBBS dreams stuck in war zones