Islamic geometric pattern is an art where beauty, geometry, and intellect come together. Patterns made of stars and interlacing lines decorate mosque mihrabs and minbars, the entrances and iwans of madrasas and caravanserais, as well as palaces and mausoleums. Such ornaments can be found across a wide region — from northern India to Morocco and southern Spain.
This art began in the Samanid state in the 10th century, on the land of today’s Uzbekistan and nearby countries. The patterns we see in Samarkand and Bukhara belong to a later time, the 14th–16th centuries, created under Amir Timur, his grandson Ulugh Beg, and their successors. The ornaments of Khiva, with their complex plant-like designs, were made in the 19th century. We even know the name of one Khiva master — Abdulla, called “the genius.”
This art is not linked to any single ethnicity. The same pattern can appear in Delhi and Herat, Isfahan and Cairo, Aleppo and Granada. Its main rule is symmetry: a fragment repeated again and again through reflections, shifts, and rotations. The makers of these ornaments were educated people — architects and thinkers who studied Euclidean geometry and were inspired by Pythagorean and Platonic ideas. Ornament begins in the world of lines and numbers, and then takes shape in brick, stone, mosaic, or glazed tile. At first, the designs were monochrome, created through relief and shadow. Later, color appeared — azure, aubergine, and finally multicolored decoration. Geometric patterns, called
girih in Persian, often became mixed with plant ornament, known as
islimi.
Looking at pattern, we feel that strict logic lies behind the beauty. A true master is not one who simply makes a complicated pattern, but one who invents a new rule or principle that gives the design a fresh, unseen face. It is like poetry: limited in form, but able to vary endlessly, like the verses of Eastern ghazals.
Islamic geometric pattern is also a space for intellectual play. Why not just follow the fixed tradition? Why not repeat the things that already exist? Perhaps because the tradition itself encourages invention — the mental work of creating a visual system without words.
These patterns do not hide secret codes or messages. Their meaning lies in the diversity that grows out of unity. They show harmony — the harmony sought by Pythagoras, not as a mystery, but as something alive and reproducible in thought. “Hidden harmony,” said Heraclitus, “is better than the obvious.” When we look closely at an ornament, the question is not “how was it built,” but “how was it invented.”
Researchers usually divide
girih patterns into three groups by symmetry:
- Four-fold (eight-pointed star)
- Five-fold (ten-pointed star)
- Six-fold (twelve-pointed star)
Each of these structures gave rise to families of patterns.
Family No. 1: The Eight-Pointed StarThe basic form is the eight-pointed star, created by overlapping two squares at a 45° angle. This type appears, for example, in the ornaments of the Seljuk Sultanate.