Iran’s War Diary: From Arabs To Israel – A 1,400-Year Trail Of Victories And Defeats

File: A glimpse of Iran-Iraq war

Iran-Israel Conflict: The smoke rising over Tehran in 2025 carries the weight of centuries. For Iran, war is not a headline, it is a memory. A deeply buried rhythm that beats through history’s dust and blood.

As missiles cross skies between Tehran and Tel Aviv, it is worth looking back, not just to understand Iran’s past, but to see the fault lines that have shaped its national psyche. The land, once called Persia, has weathered far worse. From ancient cavalry charges to modern ballistic launches, Iran has lived through centuries of invasions, uprisings and relentless battles. The scars are old, but the memories never left.

In the 7th century, the mighty Sassanid Empire, then rulers of Iran, collapsed under the weight of repeated Arab invasions. Battle after battle was fought. The names still echo – Dhi Qar, al-Qadisiyyah and Nahavand. These were not only military defeats but the final songs of an empire that had ruled for over four centuries.

After these battles, the fire temples of Persia dimmed and the green banners of Islam rose across the land. But even in surrender, Iran did not lose its essence. The conquerors came, but they adopted Persian language, poetry and statecraft. Iran absorbed and endured them.

By the 11th century, it was the Turks, first the Ghaznavids and then the Seljuks, who held power. They brought with them new military tactics, religion and rulers. But once again, Persian culture did not vanish. Instead, it found new expression under the Islamic-Turkic rule.

Seljuk sultans spoke Persian. They built Persian courts. Scholars like Al-Ghazali and Omar Khayyam emerged during this time, their words surviving even today. For every sword that entered Iran, a poem came out.

Then came the Mongols. In the 13th century, the land burned. Genghis Khan’s horsemen razed cities, flattened libraries and butchered millions. Nishapur turned red with blood. Entire populations disappeared.

But even here, history repeated itself. Hulegu, grandson of Genghis, massacred Baghdad and then set up the Ilkhanate in Iran. Within a generation, even the Mongols converted to Islam and began to patronise Persian culture.

The trauma was immense but Iran adapted again.

And still the wars did not end. From the Ottoman-Safavid conflicts, to Russia’s imperial incursions, to the British meddling in oil fields, Iran has rarely known peace for long. Each empire came with its flags and generals, and each time, Iran paid the price in people, culture and ruins. But through every invasion, a strange pattern emerged – rulers changed, but Iran’s identity outlived them all.

Then came the Islamic Revolution of 1979. The Shah regime was overthrown. Ayatollah Khomeini emerged. And the country was reborn as an Islamic Republic. The West turned its back. War followed.

In 1980, Iraq’s Saddam Hussein launched a war against Iran, fearing Khomeini’s rising influence. That war, which would last eight years, would cost over a million lives. Civilians were buried under bombs, and soldiers were gassed in the trenches.

And in a twist of irony, Israel, now Iran’s bitter enemy, was then quietly helping Iran. In 1981, Israeli fighter jets bombed Iraq’s nuclear reactor in Osirak – fearing Baghdad would go nuclear. It was a silent nod of support for Iran at the time, despite its anti-Israel rhetoric.

Today, Iran and Israel are exchanging missiles. What started as silent cyber battles and shadow assassinations has now spilled into open skies. Drones. Ballistic missiles. Airstrikes. Civilians are once again the collateral. But this is not new for Iran.

This time, the war feels different, louder, more chaotic and more dangerous. But the undertone is painfully familiar – foreign powers lining up, alliances shifting, fear looming and a people caught in between.

Iran has learned, perhaps better than any other nation, that friends in war may be enemies tomorrow. Once, the United States helped Saddam against Iran. Years later, it hunted him down in a bunker. Today, the West stands with Israel. Tomorrow? No one knows.

Iran’s soil is soaked in stories of betrayal and resistance and of collapse and survival. From Mongol fires to missile alerts in Tehran, the arc of its history is long, cruel and unrelenting. Yet, the thread of Persian identity has never snapped.

It bends. It bleeds. But it survives. As bombs fall again, perhaps that is Iran’s truest legacy.