Nomads in the Shadow of Iran’s War
Watching the world from between West and East
I’m writing this from the Istanbul Airport—that place between worlds.
Screens everywhere. News channels running nonstop. Maps. Arrows. Analysts talking about escalation, retaliation, deterrence.
West and East meet in one terminal.
Just a few days ago in Málaga, I had the unexpected joy of meeting a Lur man from Iran. Now I find myself watching coverage of a war that touches his homeland.
And I can’t help but notice:
Most of what we are shown is not the whole picture.
The View from the Maps
Most reports focus on states:
Iran. Israel. The United States. Pakistan. Afghanistan. India.
Clean lines. Clear borders. Strategic interests.
But maps of war almost always hide another reality—the people whose lives are organized not by borders, but by paths.
Lurs. Bakhtiari. Qashqai. Kurds. Baluch. Turkmen. Pashtuns. Gujjars. Bakarwals.
Communities whose patterns of life long predate the modern nation-state.
Not Just “Victims”—But Not the Focus Either
We need to be honest.
Some of these peoples include armed factions.
Some leaders are involved in violence.
NOMADs are not always merely “innocent victims.”
But that is not the main story either.
The vast majority are families.
Clans.
Herders. Traders. Travelers.
People trying to live—moving along seasonal routes, managing flocks, maintaining relationships, raising children, honoring traditions.
What War Actually Does
For NOMADs and their neighbors, war does not only destroy buildings.
It cuts paths.
It closes grazing routes.
It hardens borders.
It turns young men into suspects.
It disrupts relationships that have been built across generations.
It turns mobility—normally a shared resource for the whole community—into something dangerous.
Pakistan, Afghanistan, and the Borderlands
Pakistan plays a complex role—at times mediating, at times navigating its own fragile regional position.
At the same time, tensions with Afghanistan continue to flare.
But the “border” between these countries is not just a line.
It cuts through Pashtun communities whose identity, movement, and relationships existed long before that line was drawn.
When conflict escalates, it is not just states that collide.
It is communities—NOMADs and their neighbors—whose lives are intertwined across that space.
Kashmir: A Conflict Lived on the Ground
And then there is Kashmir.
Framed geopolitically, it is about territory, security, and national identity.
Lived locally, it is something else.
For Gujjars and Bakarwals, it means:
Checkpoints.
Restricted movement.
Disrupted migrations.
Divided kinship networks.
It affects NOMADs—and their neighbors—together:
Those who move.
Those who host.
Those who trade.
Those who depend on one another.
The People of the Paths
So yes, these conflicts are about nations.
But they are also about NOMADs—and their neighbors—whose lives do not fit neatly inside modern borders.
And sitting here in Istanbul, watching the news scroll by, I keep wondering:
Who is listening to the people of the paths—and the communities connected to them?
Not romanticizing them.
Not ignoring the realities of conflict.
But seeing them clearly:
Interconnected communities with flocks, markets, tents, villages, memories, songs, griefs, loyalties, and hopes.
A Final Reflection
The Good Shepherd does not see the world only through maps.
He sees people.
He sees flocks.
He sees relationships.
He sees those moving between places—and those who live alongside them.
And perhaps one of our callings today is this:
To learn to see what the maps cannot show.
Ron, your nomad guide 🤠
Nomadic Peoples Network