Just Like That: Why it is hard to trump a civilisational State

In the context of the ongoing Iran war, I wonder if people have thought about the difference in intrinsic strengths between nation-States and civilisational-States. In an age where geopolitical conflicts are reduced only to metrics of military power or economic heft, conventional strategists sometimes ignore this difference. A nation-State, in its modern conception, is a political construct. A civilisational-State, by contrast, is something far deeper and more enduring. (Wikimedia Commons)

A nation-State, in its modern conception, is a political construct. It is defined by clearly demarcated borders, a sovereign government, and a sense of shared identity that is often consciously cultivated. But most nation-States are relatively recent creations, emerging from the churn of history over the past few centuries — products of treaties, wars, colonial withdrawals, and ideological movements. In fact, before the Treaty of Westphalia in the 17th century, “nations” did not exist as political units but as cultural entities.

A civilisational-State, by contrast, is something far deeper and more enduring. It is not merely a political arrangement but a continuum of cultural, historical, and spiritual experiences accumulated over millennia. Its identity resides in a shared consciousness — an awareness of belonging to a tradition that transcends time. Language, literature, philosophy, rituals, collective memory, and a lived sense of continuity form its bedrock. While a civilisational-State may adopt the trappings of a modern nation-State — as India did in 1947 — its essence remains rooted in a much older and more resilient substratum.

Superficial foreign observers often don’t realise this. The British writer John Strachey, typical of the colonial mindset, wrote: “There is not, and never was an India, nor ever any country of India, possessing, according to European ideas, any sort of unity, physical, political, social or religious; no nation, no ‘people of India’ of which we hear so much.”

How would Strachey explain why the ancient Puranas, with amazing exactitude, extensively describe the sacred geography of Bharatvarsha, mentioning its mountains, rivers and tirthas, across the subcontinent? How could he ignore the fact that Chanakya in the 4th century BCE, described Chandragupta Maurya’s empire as follows: “The area extending from the Himalayas in the north to the sea and a thousand yojanas wide from east to west is the operation of the King-Emperor.” And, if India did not exist prior to the British, how would he account for the four peeths that Adi Shankaracharya established in the 8th century CE, encompassing all of Bharat: Sringeri in the south, Dwarka in the west, Puri in the east and Joshimath in the north?

Similarly, Iran’s civilisation, rooted in the ancient land of Persia, is among the oldest continuous cultural traditions in human history. By 550 BCE, building on earlier cultural layers, the rise of the Achaemenid Empire under Cyrus the Great marked the emergence of one of the world’s first great empires, extending from the Balkans to the Indus Valley. The Parthian and the Sasanian Empire further enriched Persian identity. With the Arab conquest in the 7th century, Iran’s civilisation absorbed new influences and reasserted itself.

The Persian language, literature, and artistic traditions — from epic poetry like the Shahnameh to intricate architecture and miniature painting — testify to an unbroken continuity. Thus, Iran represents not just a nation, but a civilisational continuum, where memory, culture, and identity have endured across millennia.

It is perhaps for this reason that Iran, in spite of sustained economic sanctions, diplomatic isolation, and military pressure, has demonstrated a remarkable capacity to endure. Not understanding this, powerful nation-States such as America, fall into the trap of equating strength with dominance.

Armed with superior technology and economic leverage, the US underestimated the invisible architecture of resilience — history remembered not as a distant past but as a living force; traditions that are not museum relics but integral to daily life; and a cultural identity that has survived invasions, assimilated influences, and yet retained a core continuity.

This miscalculation can lead to misguided strategic overreach, as the US realised in Iran. India offers a parallel. Its civilisation, defined by antiquity, continuity, diversity, assimilation, and peaks of refinement, is sashwat or eternal, and sanatan or timeless because of such intangible factors of identity and belonging. That is why Allama Iqbal wrote in 1904: “Kuch baat hai ki hasti mitii nahin hamari, sadiyon raha hai dushman daur-e-zaman hamara” (There is something which ensures that our existence has survived; even though for millennia against us the world has connived).

Pavan K Varma is an author, diplomat, and former Rajya Sabha MP. The views expressed are personal