Beneath the labyrinthine salt caves and emerald mangrove forests of Qeshm Island, a different kind of architecture lies buried. This land, once celebrated as an “open-air geological museum” for its surreal rock formations and ecological wonders, now commands the world’s attention for what lies hidden within its coral bedrock: Iran’s formidable “underground missile cities.”
In the span of weeks, Qeshm’s identity has been brutally rewritten. It has transitioned from a bustling free-trade zone and tourist paradise into a front-line fortress—the ultimate strategic prize in a escalating conflict and the focal point of a 21st-century energy war.
The Cork in the Bottle
Qeshm’s strategic value is written in its geography. With a sheer size of approximately 1,445 square kilometers, it physically dominates the entrance to the Strait of Hormuz from the Persian Gulf, acting like a cork in the world’s most vital energy transit passage. This commanding position has made it Iran’s “unsinkable aircraft carrier.”
Located just 22km south of the port city of Bandar Abbas, the island is the primary platform for Iran’s “asymmetric” naval power. While the exact number of fast-attack boats and coastal batteries hidden within its subterranean labyrinths remains a closely guarded secret, their intent is unmistakable. As retired Lebanese Brigadier-General Hassan Jouni noted, these vast networks form an underground “missile city” with one primary purpose: to effectively control or close the Strait of Hormuz.
And control it, they have. Last week, that threat became reality when Iranian warnings effectively halted all shipping traffic. Now, only a precious handful of tankers carrying vital oil and gas supplies are being allowed through as nations scramble to negotiate safe passage and the US attempts to assemble a naval convoy to forcibly open the waterway.
A Community Caught in the Crossfire
For the island’s 148,000 residents—primarily Sunni Muslims who speak the unique Bandari dialect—life is now lived at the intersection of ancient natural beauty and modern military tension. Their lives have long been dictated by the rhythms of the sea, celebrated annually during the Nowruz Sayyadi (Fisherman’s New Year), when all fishing stops to honor the ocean’s bounty.
Now, they are dictated by war. On March 7, just one week into the conflict, US airstrikes targeted a critical desalination plant on the island. Branded a “flagrant crime” by Tehran, the strike cut off freshwater supplies to 30 surrounding villages. In a swift retaliatory move, the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) launched strikes against US forces in Bahrain, alleging the attack was launched from a neighbouring Gulf state.
An Island of Many Names and Masters
Qeshm’s role as a strategic pawn is not new; its identity was forged by a succession of empires. Known in Arabic as Jazira-al-Ṭawila (the Long Island), it was referred to by Greek explorers as Oaracta. By the 14th century, it was deemed so important that the rulers of Hormuz moved their entire court there to escape invaders.
Its wealth was legendary. In 1552, Ottoman commander Piri Reis raided it, seizing what was described as “the richest prize that could be found in all the world.” The Portuguese built a massive stone fort in 1621, only to be expelled a year later by a combined Persian and English force. By the 19th century, the British had established their own naval base at Basidu, which remained a hub until the last coaling station was finally abandoned in 1935.
A Museum Under Fire
Yet, beyond the watchtowers and silos, Qeshm’s soul remains that of a natural sanctuary. It is one of the most ecologically diverse locations in the Middle East, home to the vital Hara mangrove forests and the Qeshm Geopark—the first UNESCO-recognized geopark in the region. Its landscape features wonders like the Valley of Stars, a stunning network of canyons and rock pillars that local legend says was formed by a falling star.
As Qeshm becomes the epicenter of a global confrontation, these silent salt caves and ancient shrines serve as a profound reminder. They have watched past empires—Portuguese, British—rise and eventually fade. The geological fortress of the strait, however, remains eternally anchored in the turbulent tides of history, its people and unique beauty now hostage to a conflict far larger than themselves.
