Why is Kashmir referred to as Iran-e-Sagheer, the prototype of Iran, or little Iran? What are Kashmir’s spiritual, cultural, and historical links with Iran? To discuss all of this in detail, especially in the context of the ongoing war in West Asia, Professor Noor Ahmad Baba, an expert on politics and geopolitical relations, joins The Kashmir Notebook.
We are witnessing a war, and there is a great deal of tragedy unfolding before us. In Kashmir, there have been widespread protests and demonstrations. In the past couple of days, we have seen Kashmiri men and women donating money, gold ornaments, jewellery, and even copper utensils for Iran. How is Kashmir connected to Iran, and what are the roots of that passion?
Our connections with Iran date back to the earliest communities in Kashmir, almost 5,000 years ago—the Neolithic communities. These communities are believed to have come mostly from Central Asia, which included Iran. Then, when the Aryans arrived around 1500 BC, they too came through Iran. Third, and most importantly, with the founding of the Achaemenid Empire [550–330 BCE] in Iran—which was among the first major global empires—Kashmir came under their influence through the route from Kandahar through Afghanistan, and we remained under their sway for a long time. The Achaemenids left permanent marks on Kashmir. Until then, Kashmir was essentially a tribal formation with no central authority. They unified us into a single political unit. A written record also emerged; writing was introduced in Kashmir by them. Kashmir, of course, was always more connected to its western, northern, and eastern borders—China included. These connections were strong even before the coming of Islam. Even some Hindu kings had ministers and army generals drawn from Central Asia, which was, in effect, Iranian.
If we come to the spiritual dimension—a great many travellers, spiritual masters, and saints also came to Kashmir from that region.
Yes, I was coming to that. When Islam arrived in these regions, Muslims began making their way here. We have records of Muslims in Kashmir from the 8th century, and some of them rose to very high positions. By the early 14th century, we see figures like Shah Mir serving as minister to Hindu kings. Muslims had already constituted an elite. It was during this period—amid internal corruption in the ruling regime and various social upheavals—that Islam began to take gradual root.
There is a very interesting case that defies the general pattern of historical processes: a king of Kashmir in the 13th-14th century, Rinchan Shah, who was Ladakhi by origin, converted to Islam. This was not a top-down imposition; it was a bottom-up process. I recall Balraj Puri, one of the foremost scholars of Kashmir studies—unfortunately no longer with us—making precisely this point: the distinctiveness of Kashmir’s Islam is that it did not come from the top down, but rose from the bottom up. Before that, from the 10th century onwards, Muslim traders had always been present; Kashmir was a hub of trade. Strong ethnic connections going back 5,000 years were reinforced over time. There were also linguistic connections—the Kashmiri language had significant northern and Central Asian influences.
With the arrival of Muslim saints and Sufis alongside traders, an important social segment developed. Even in Kalhana’s Rajatarangini, there are mentions of Lalitaditya having a minister from outside; other kings, including those of the 8th, 9th, and 10th centuries, had generals from Central Asia. This was a continuous phenomenon of interaction at the social level. By the 14th century, Muslim influence had grown considerably, though not yet a majority. It was around this time that Rinchan Shah converted to Islam under the influence of the saint Bulbul Shah—whose khanqah (shrine) stands to this day. This process eventually led to the establishment of the Muslim Sultanate. Shah Mir, who had been a minister, was able—through a combination of political acumen and social acceptability, as Prem Nath Bazaz has noted—to consolidate authority after centuries of instability in Kashmir.
Muslims gathered outside the United Nations Military Observer Group in India and Pakistan, in Srinagar, on March 1, 2026, chanting anti‑US and anti‑Israel slogans during a protest. | Photo Credit: IMRAN NISSAR
Given this entire backdrop—and given the larger silence that has prevailed in Kashmir since 2019—are you surprised that people have erupted in such solidarity with Iran?
Not at all. Persian was introduced as the official language of Kashmir, and unlike Sanskrit—which remained an elite and scholarly language, never penetrating deeply into society—Persian became a truly popular language. [Persian was also introduced as official language in Kashmir. Sanskrit did not penetrate deep into Kashmiri society. Although a language of great scholarship, it didn’t become a common person’s language. The difference between Sanskrit and Persian is that Sanskrit never penetrated down in the Kashmiri society despite being an official language. It was mostly an elite language. In Iran, Persian is not only a royal/elite language, it took similar form in Kashmir.]
We produced great literary figures; one of the most eminent was Ghani Kashmiri, recognised as a towering authority on Persian literature and poetry. This was a continuous process that lasted well beyond the Shah Mir dynasty. The Mughals came, and Persian remained the official language. Then the Pathans, then the Sikhs—Persian was the lingua franca across the entire subcontinent. During the early decades of Dogra rule as well, Persian continued to hold official status.
The Dogra period ran roughly from 1846 to 1947.
Yes. Persian had become the lingua franca of the entire subcontinent, irrespective of religious denomination. In Kashmir, it was no different. Even under the Sikhs, it was the official language—in their Punjab heartland and in Kashmir alike. Under the Dogras, it remained so for at least two to three decades before Ranbir Singh made the shift to Urdu.
Even the couplets inscribed on epitaphs in our graveyards are mostly in Persian.
Our idioms carry Persian to this day. We say “Rahi rou birau gar chi during ast” or “Yaar zinda, sohbat baqi.” These phrases have survived in everyday speech. In our Sufi gatherings, what is recited is from Jami and Hafiz. My father had Hafiz’s Divan at home. This was our inheritance. Islam came to Kashmir through Persia, and it did not remain confined to Muslims. Kashmiri Pandits spoke fluent Persian. They retained their role in the bureaucracy through the Shah Mir period, the Mughal period, the Chak dynasty, the Sikh period, and the Pathan period—and they did so through mastery of Persian. They produced some of the great scholars of Persian literature.
There is also a verse by Allama Iqbal—the Poet of the East, Sha’ir-e-Mashriq—in which he expresses a desire that Iran, rather than Geneva, might become the political and moral centre of the East so that the destiny of the world transforms, for good. “Tehran ho gar aalam e mashriq ka Geneva / Shayed kurra e arz ki taqdeer badal Jaye”. And, of course, Iqbal is known in Iran as Iqbal Lahori.
Iran has a continuity of several thousand years of civilisation. At various points in history, it encompassed much more than present-day Iran—much of Central Asia, parts of present-day Turkey, and much of Iraq. It was a vast civilisation-state—and one of the earliest empires in human history, a fact commemorated by the former Shah of Iran as well.
Six thousand years of civilisation.
Six thousand years of civilisation, yes.
Let us come to the politics of it—the larger geopolitics. How do you see this war unfolding, and what are its implications if it prolongs?
From Kashmir’s perspective, this war is seen not only as a matter of cultural brotherhood and affinity, but as a question of justice. There is no credible reason for the attack on Iran. There is also a Muslim sentiment at play; Islam is an important component of Kashmiri identity, and Islam entered Kashmir through Persia and Iran. That explains the depth of sentimental attachment. Now, speaking as a political scientist, there are several dimensions to this. American hegemony, as shaped through the post-colonial era, has always sought to remake the world in its own image, and has repeatedly failed in that effort. Despite being termed the sole superpower, America has faced failures in Vietnam, Afghanistan, and Iraq. It has been unable to shape global outcomes to its satisfaction. And now it is overstretched.
Is the United States repeating its old mistakes?
It is. But there is something more here too. There is the Israeli factor. In Israel’s broader strategic calculus, a stable and strong Iran does not suit their policy interests. The logic behind this is difficult to defend rationally, yet it drives their actions. America and Israel have mutually reinforcing interests. Trump, in his narrow reading of geopolitics—and ignoring past experience—has entered this war without adequate planning.
This is not my assessment alone; many of Trump’s own close aides have expressed misgivings, and scholars at American universities—American citizens—have spoken out against it. The original assumption seems to have been that eliminating the leadership would trigger regime change.
Particularly after the targeting of Supreme Leader Khamenei—they thought that without the leadership, the regime would collapse.
They thought the regime would unravel at the top and everything would change.
It did not happen.
No, it did not. More than three weeks on, the conflict has enormous global implications. Iranians have played this very wisely—more wisely, I suspect, than the Americans anticipated. Iran may not have vast material resources, but it has ingenuity. Under sanctions, under constant pressure and internal discontent over four decades, the Iranian people have shown remarkable resourcefulness. I visited Iran when I was invited for a seminar, and I witnessed the level of scholarship and innovation. Iran has one of the highest rates of education and academic output in the region. Their drone technology, for instance, is being supplied to Russia. They are playing strategically, and they understand the nature of the challenge they face.
I have two connected questions. What are the implications for South Asia if Iran survives this war—and what if Iran does not? What are the consequences in both scenarios, including for Israel’s broader ambitions in the region?
I would say that either way, the world will not remain as it was. America is no longer the unchallenged hegemon. There are fractures within the Western camp. Since the Gaza conflict, American society itself has been internally divided—women, youth, academics. The consolidated support base that America and Israel once enjoyed in the West has been eroding. Many Western governments have distanced themselves from this conflict at the social level, even if they have been slower to act at the governmental level. America moved unilaterally, expecting others to follow. During the Iraq War, they at least managed to assemble a coalition. This time they could not. No self-respecting country will simply follow such an action without consultation.
Whatever the outcome for Iran, there will be a significant reconfiguration of global alliances. Israel’s traditional support base in the West has been considerably diminished. Gulf states too will be compelled to rethink their strategy. They once believed America could guarantee their security; that guarantee has now become a liability.
The world is also slowly moving towards multipolarity. China, in particular—I would say it is remarkable in terms of technological innovation. In a matter of years, perhaps a decade, China will have overtaken America in several key domains. In many respects, it already has.
Muslims offer prayers during a protest march in Srinagar on March 1, 2026, against the killing of Iran’s Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei in US‑Israeli strikes that sparked widespread demonstrations. | Photo Credit: IMRAN NISSAR
Where do you place India and Pakistan in all of this?
India has, in recent years, developed closer ties with both Israel and America. Prime Minister Modi visited Israel just two days before this war began—a reflection of that proximity. Technology transfers and strong political relationships had been built. But that strategy is now under strain. India needs to pursue diversification in its foreign policy. You cannot put all your eggs in one basket, and the Government of India appears to have already begun recalibrating its position in the early days of the war.
Many countries may not have fully reckoned with the consequences of this war. Consider this: India has approximately one crore—ten million or more—workers in the Gulf who send enormous remittances home. Their livelihoods are now at risk. If these Gulf economies are destabilised, those remittance flows will dry up. India has deep cultural ties with Gulf states, and Iran historically. Diversification is not optional, it is necessary. And winning wars is simply not an option. Even if Iran were to lose this war, America would not have won, and Israel would not have won—because the reality on the ground cannot be shaped by military force alone. I have been writing for some years—since around 2018-19, and in a specific series of articles in early 2019—that violence is not an option, whether it is private violence, internal violence, or interstate conflict. Violence does not solve problems; it creates more. Americans do not seem to have internalised this lesson. Netanyahu, of course, operates with a much narrower agenda.
What is the endgame for Israel?
It is a long history, but briefly speaking, Israel has long sought uncontested, dominant sway over the region. Every time a challenge has emerged, they have sought to neutralise it. Beginning in the late 1960s, when they first faced a serious military challenge—in 1973—they shifted to combining diplomacy with force. Their first major move was to take Egypt out of the equation through the Camp David Accords of 1978, brokered by President Carter. Egypt was the one Arab power capable of challenging Israel militarily. Once Egypt was neutralised, they moved methodically—through Syria, Lebanon—to either destroy, marginalise, or co-opt all remaining centres of resistance.
The Gulf states were drawn in. The Palestinians were divided: Yasser Arafat was brought into an agreement through the Oslo process, and the Palestinian Authority was created without any meaningful power. Iran, since the Islamic Revolution of 1979—when it broke diplomatic relations with Israel and declared support for Palestinian rights—has remained the sole significant source of resistance and potential strategic challenge in the region of West Asia. Although Trump wanted to destroy the Iranian regime, he did not understand the cultural resilience of Iran.
I think there is a broad consensus now that Iran’s culture of resilience—rooted in 6,000 years of civilisation, and in lessons learned from past wars and periods of conflict— explains why it has surprised both America and Israel in the way it has responded. Let me come to the concluding part: the Iranian Embassy in Delhi has specifically thanked the people of Kashmir for their donations. On that note, I think we can bring the programme to a close.
Yes, and this gratitude reflects several layers. There is a deep cultural relationship I have described. At the forefront, one would naturally think of the Shia population in Kashmir, but in fact this solidarity goes beyond sectarian lines. Thankfully, Kashmir does not have Shia-Sunni conflict in the manner of some other countries. We have a fundamental sense of solidarity as Kashmiris, with deep cultural influences shared across communities and sects. In fact, some of the greatest Persian scholars in Kashmir have come from among the Sunnis—the Persian literary tradition in Kashmir is overwhelmingly a Sunni tradition. Beyond religious identity, people see this as an unjust war—and that perception extends well beyond Muslims. There are demonstrations across Europe and the US against this war. At its core, it is a question of justice versus injustice.
And many people in America are now saying they have been drawn into an Israeli game they want no part of. American scholars, professors, and students have spoken out in large numbers against their own government’s policies. Now Japan has also shifted its position. Countries that have traditionally supported Israel since 1947-48 are now reassessing. Voting patterns in international forums are changing. New powers and new equations are emerging.
Gowhar Geelani is a senior journalist and author of Kashmir: Rage and Reason.
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