Enemies Today, Allies Then: The U.S. and Iran’s Surprising Role in Pakistan’s Wars With India

The Forbidden Axis: How the U.S. and Iran Secretly Allied to Back Pakistan and Undermine India in the 1965 and 1971 Wars

In the modern geopolitical landscape, the United States and Iran are viewed as the ultimate personification of mutual hostility. Their relationship is defined by a grim tally of economic sanctions, proxy wars in the Levant, and direct military skirmishes that keep the world on the edge of a global conflagration. To the casual observer, it seems as though these two nations have always been on a collision course. However, deep within the vaults of declassified intelligence archives lies a narrative so starkly different from today’s reality that it feels like a dispatch from an alternate universe. There was a time when Washington and Tehran were not just on speaking terms; they were strategic blood brothers. During two of the most existential conflicts in South Asian history—the Indo-Pakistani wars of 1965 and 1971—the United States and Iran quietly operated as a singular unit, forming a clandestine axis to support Pakistan and counter the rising influence of India.

The roots of this forgotten alliance are buried in the soil of the Cold War. In the 1960s and early 1970s, Iran was ruled by Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi. To the West, the Shah was the “Policeman of the Persian Gulf,” a sophisticated, pro-Western monarch who served as the cornerstone of American interests in the Middle East. For Washington, Iran was a vital bulwark against Soviet expansionism. For the Shah, the relationship provided the military prestige and political backing necessary to maintain his Peacock Throne. Yet, while their eyes were often fixed on the Soviet threat, their hands were frequently busy in the affairs of the Indian subcontinent.

The first major test of this partnership came during the 1965 war between India and Pakistan. As the two nations clashed over the disputed territory of Kashmir, the international community reacted by imposing arms embargoes. For Pakistan, this was a potential death sentence. Deprived of direct access to Western military hardware, Islamabad faced a critical shortage of the parts and ammunition needed to sustain a high-intensity conflict. It was here that Iran stepped into its role as a “shadow partner.” Declassified State Department documents now confirm that the Shah’s regime effectively became a massive laundering operation for military equipment destined for Pakistan.

One of the most audacious examples of this cooperation involved the acquisition of ninety F-86 Sabre fighter jets. Because of the political sensitivity of the conflict, a direct sale from the West to Pakistan was impossible. Instead, a complex shell game was played: the jets were purchased from a West German arms dealer and delivered to Iran under the guise of bolstering the Shah’s own air force. Almost immediately after landing on Iranian soil, the aircraft were quietly flown across the border to Pakistan. This wasn’t merely a neighborly gesture; it was a high-stakes violation of international norms, facilitated by Iranian logistical support and American “blind-eye” diplomacy. Iran provided the missiles, the artillery, and the ammunition that kept the Pakistani war machine breathing when the rest of the world tried to cut its oxygen.

However, the 1965 cooperation was merely a rehearsal for the dramatic events of 1971. The 1971 war, which led to the liberation of Bangladesh, saw the geopolitical stakes reach a fever pitch. As Indian forces moved decisively into East Pakistan, the Pakistani military was on the verge of a total systemic collapse. Their fuel reserves were dry, their skies were being cleared of aircraft, and their leadership was in a state of panic. In Washington, President Richard Nixon and National Security Adviser Henry Kissinger viewed the potential total defeat of Pakistan not just as a regional event, but as a catastrophic win for the Soviet Union, which had signed a “Treaty of Friendship” with India.

The transcripts of the Nixon-Kissinger tapes reveal a desperate search for a way to intervene without triggering a domestic political backlash or a direct Soviet confrontation. Nixon’s question was simple: “Could the United States help Pakistan through Iran?” Kissinger’s response laid the groundwork for a covert “triangular” diplomacy. The plan was for Iran to transfer its own U.S.-made military supplies and fuel to Pakistan to stave off the Indian advance. In exchange, the United States promised to “backfill” Iran’s inventory with even more advanced weaponry at a later date. Iran was the middleman, and Washington was the silent financier.

The Shah, while eager to help his ally in Islamabad, was also a master of the “long game.” He feared that a direct Iranian intervention might provoke the Soviets into moving south toward his own borders. Thus, he proposed a complex military workaround that involved Jordan. The Shah suggested that Jordanian F-104 Starfighters and pilots be sent to Pakistan to engage Indian forces, while the Iranian Air Force would move its own jets into Jordan to protect Jordanian airspace. It was a staggering display of multi-national military coordination, all designed to bypass the formal restrictions of the U.S. Congress and the United Nations.

While this secret axis ultimately failed to prevent the creation of Bangladesh, its existence reshaped the power dynamics of South Asia for decades. It signaled to India that despite its democratic status, it was viewed with deep suspicion by the West-Tehran alliance. For Pakistan, it reinforced a reliance on “external lifelines” that would define its foreign policy for years to come.

Today, as we watch U.S. drones monitor Iranian movements and Tehran funds proxies that target American interests, the history of 1965 and 1971 serves as a haunting reminder of the fluidity of power. The very jets and systems that Iran once used to protect the Pakistani flank were the products of a partnership that has now curdled into a bitter, dangerous rivalry. The “Enemies” of today were once the “Strategic Architects” of yesterday, proving that in the theater of international relations, there are no permanent friends—only permanent interests and the silent ghosts of declassified files.