As Bangladeshi Muslims, many of us grew up associating the western direction with Saudi Arabia. For us, “west” is not only about the Western world -- Europe or America -- but also a physical direction tied to faith. From Bangladesh, the qibla lies to the west, meaning that when we face the qibla in our daily prayers, we are turning westward toward Saudi Arabia.
Yet, strangely enough, in newspapers, textbooks, and global maps, this entire stretch of countries -- including Saudi Arabia as well as Iran, Iraq, the Gulf states, and the broader Arabian Peninsula -- is grouped under the label “Middle East.”
It does not quite add up. How can a land that lies west of us and many other Asian countries be called “middle,” and, to top it off, have “east” in its name?
The answer lies in how the term came into being.
It was popularised in 1902 by American naval strategist Alfred Thayer Mahan. At the time, Europe -- especially Britain -- sat at the centre of the world map. The lands between India and the Persian Gulf, crucial for protecting British imperial routes, were labelled “middle” not because of their geography from a local perspective, but because of their position relative to London.
In this worldview, the “Middle East” lay between the “Near East” (the Balkans) and the “Far East” (China and Japan). What we see today as a simple geographic label is, in fact, a colonial construct -- a name shaped by strategy, control, and trade.
However, the idea of dividing “the East” into zones -- near, middle, and far -- predates Mahan, going back to 19th-century European thinking. Even the British India Office occasionally used the phrase in the mid-1800s.
But it was Mahan’s article, "The Persian Gulf and International Relations", that pushed the term into wider strategic and public use. He was thinking as a maritime expert, not a geographer.
This context matters.
At the turn of the 20th century, Britain was anxious about safeguarding its empire -- especially India -- and wary of Russian expansion in Central Asia, part of what historians call the Great Game.
The Persian Gulf and surrounding regions were not just places on a map; they were vital checkpoints for trade, military movement, and communication. Mahan’s “Middle East” essentially described a strategic zone the British Empire needed to monitor and control.
The term quickly gained traction. British newspapers like The Times adopted it, and correspondents such as Ignatius Valentine Chirol expanded its scope through influential reporting. Over time, particularly during and after World War II, this strategic label evolved into everyday geography.
Before “Middle East” became dominant, the region was often called the “Near East,” particularly in the 19th and early 20th centuries. This term referred mainly to the Ottoman Empire and nearby territories closest to Europe. As geopolitical priorities shifted, “Middle East” replaced it in British and American usage.
By the mid-20th century, as decolonisation reshaped the world, “Middle East” had taken on broader cultural and political meanings. Institutions like the Middle East Institute helped cement the term in global policy discussions, classrooms, and newsrooms.
Yet the label has always been imprecise. The so-called “Middle East” spans a vast and diverse region -- from Egypt in North Africa to Iran in Southwest Asia -- encompassing a wide range of cultures, languages, and histories. Grouping them under a single term often reflects strategic convenience more than geographic clarity.
This is why alternatives like “West Asia” have been increasingly gaining traction, especially in academic and diplomatic language. The term locates the region within Asia based on geography rather than its distance from Europe.
Notably, India’s first prime minister, Jawaharlal Nehru, preferred “West Asia,” arguing that it reflected an Asian perspective rather than a European one.
These days, another widely used term is MENA -- Middle East and North Africa -- which acknowledges the connections between Arab countries in North Africa and those in Southwest Asia.
It is often used to highlight strategic, cultural, and economic links across the region. Yet, even this label retains the older “Middle East” framing.
Today, “Middle East” remains dominant largely because it has been in use for over a century. But awareness of its limitations is growing. Institutions like the United Nations often use “Western Asia” in official contexts, favouring a more geographically neutral term.
So, the next time you hear “Middle East,” remember: it is not a natural or timeless label like “Africa” or “Europe.” It is a name shaped by colonialism and perspective.
The lands it describes largely sit on Asia’s western edge -- not “middle” for everyone, not “east” for South and East Asians, and certainly not defined by where London once stood on a colonial map.
Thinking of it instead as West Asia invites us to see the world from our own vantage point -- one that feels far closer to home.
