By Kamal Sikder
The shadows of history stretch long over the Middle East. In 1258, Baghdad fell under Mongol siege, a devastating blow that marked the symbolic end of the Islamic Golden Age. The Mongol forces, led by Hulagu Khan, did not come alone—they were allegedly invited by Baghdad’s vizier, a betrayal that historians still debate but one that underscores the tragic vulnerability of divided leadership. Though the Ottomans later revived the Abbasid Caliphate in name, the unity and cultural brilliance of the Muslim world never fully recovered. What followed was a long, painful descent into fragmentation, and eventually, colonization by European powers that carved up the region with little regard for its history, people, or aspirations.
It wasn’t until the Iranian Revolution of 1979 that many Muslims around the world dared to feel a resurgence of political self-determination. Despite Iran’s Shiite identity and ideological divergence from the Sunni majority, its defiance of Western dominance resonated deeply across sectarian lines. That hope, however imperfect, carried symbolic weight. But now, that flicker seems to be dimming—snuffed not merely by external enemies, but by the weight of internal miscalculations, factionalism, and geopolitical arrogance.
A Precision Strike with Devastating Impact
I find myself reeling from the recent Israeli strikes on Iran—overwhelmed by a sense of dread and sorrow. What just happened was not merely a military operation. It was a ruthless demonstration of technological superiority, strategic depth, and regional daring. Despite forewarnings from allies and enemies alike, despite Iran’s vigilance, the strikes came—swift, precise, and devastating.
In the space of hours, Israel managed to disable Iran’s air defense network using drones launched from within Iranian territory, likely operated by infiltrated commandos. These internal sabotage elements softened the ground for the Israeli air force to strike some of the country’s most critical infrastructure. Nuclear enrichment plants, missile production hubs, uranium mines, and even an oil refinery were hit. High-profile casualties included some of Iran’s top defense commanders—figures like Major General Mohammad Bagheri and IRGC chief Hossein Salami, as well as senior nuclear scientists whose work had placed Iran in the crosshairs of Western intelligence.
Iran’s response, though fierce in rhetoric, was underwhelming in execution. Its counterattack launched dozens of missiles toward Israel—most were intercepted, and the few that landed caused negligible damage. Israel swiftly retaliated again, and while Iran claims to have shot down two aircraft—possibly F-35s or F-16s—these reports remain unverified and, given Iran’s history of inflated military claims, are treated cautiously even within sympathetic circles.
A Regional Game of Fire
What we are witnessing is not a conventional war. It is a test match played on shifting sands, where patience, missteps, and tactical ingenuity will define the victors, not just firepower. This is a conflict stretching beyond two nations. Saudi Arabia, Turkey, the Gulf States, and non-state actors like Hezbollah and the Houthis are all pieces on the board. The question is not just whether Iran will retaliate—it is how, and whether it can do so without risking its collapse.
Israel, emboldened by what it sees as a surgical victory, has declared its intent to eliminate any nuclear competition in the region. Prime Minister Netanyahu and former U.S. President Donald Trump have both reiterated that Israel must remain the only nuclear-armed state in the Middle East. The language is blunt, the intention unmistakable.
But power in this region is rarely static. Iran, though bruised, still retains asymmetric capabilities, including regional proxies, cyber tools, and long-range missiles. What it lacks now is credibility among its people, its allies, and even its rivals. That erosion could be more dangerous than any military setback.
The International Response: Predictable Divides
Global reactions have followed familiar lines. Pakistan’s Senate offered unequivocal support for Iran, calling Israel a rogue state and a terrorist entity. The National Assembly Speaker reminded the world that Pakistan does not recognize Israel as a legitimate country. Saudi Arabia issued a formal condemnation, though it stopped short of endorsing Iran’s right to retaliate. India walked a fine diplomatic line, expressing concern over the regional destabilization but avoiding any blame.
These reactions reflect deeper strategic calculations. No nation wants to be caught in the crossfire, but few can afford to remain entirely neutral. The United States, notably absent from early responses, is likely recalibrating its posture, caught between its strategic alliance with Israel and the potential fallout from a full-scale regional war.
What Comes Next?
The question now is not whether the region is at war—it is whether the war will escalate or remain dormant. Will this be a single set of deadly exchanges, or is it the opening act of something far graver? We’ve seen regional rivalries explode into proxy conflicts before—Syria, Yemen, Lebanon. But a confrontation between Iran and Israel is unprecedented in scale and implication.
Iran’s choices are now severely limited. A restrained response risks looking weak. An aggressive one could invite annihilation. Either path may draw in others, such as Turkey, the Gulf States, or even Russia and China, whose interests in the region are also growing. What began as a single, albeit shocking, military operation may become the flashpoint for a broader, multi-layered confrontation.
A Crisis Rooted in Old Wounds
This is not merely a story of military might. It is a story of betrayal—of missed opportunities for unity, of leadership that failed to prioritize collective dignity over national pride. Just as Baghdad fell to invaders once allegedly welcomed by their own, today’s tragedy carries the eerie echo of history. What was once a unified Islamic civilization has become a fractured region where alliances are temporary, and treachery often comes from within.
I write this with a heavy heart—not just as an observer of geopolitics, but as someone mourning the losses Iran has suffered, and dreading what may yet come. The region stands at the edge of a precipice. Whether we fall into chaos or climb back toward reason depends not only on governments but on the people who must demand that war not be the only language spoken in this long, agonizing test match.
