{"id":37411,"date":"2025-06-20T09:27:00","date_gmt":"2025-06-20T07:27:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldmarkaz\/?p=37411"},"modified":"2025-08-19T15:41:38","modified_gmt":"2025-08-19T13:41:38","slug":"life-under-the-shadow-of-missiles-the-view-from-iran","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldmarkaz\/life-under-the-shadow-of-missiles-the-view-from-iran\/","title":{"rendered":"Life Under the Shadow of Missiles: the View From Iran"},"content":{"rendered":"
As Tehran and other Iranian cities experience intense bombing, some people have the means to flee, while those who don\u2019t, sleep outside their high-rise apartment buildings out of fear. Despite the precariousness of the situation, in coffeehouses, grocery stores, and the Persian equivalent of Uber, people remain calm and, above all, realistic about their lives and the country\u2019s prospects. Meanwhile, the Islamic Republic\u2019s propaganda works overtime as our correspondant sits in a caf\u00e9 with a failing internet connection and risks life and limb to send his thoughts and observations to TMR.<\/span><\/h5>\n

 <\/p>\n

Amir<\/span><\/h4>\n

 <\/p>\n

The situation is very frightening. Every sound, even a passing car or something falling, scares you.<\/span><\/p>\n

In some Iranian cities, people are sleeping outside their apartments out of fear for their lives. You can see smoke rising from certain parts of the city. People who want to leave Tehran face long lines at gas stations, rationing, even fuel shortages (and this is in a country with nearly ten percent of the world\u2019s oil supplies.) Tunnels leading from Tehran to the north of the country are now one-way only. With weak internet, navigation of the roads has become difficult.<\/span><\/p>\n

Two hours ago at the time of writing when Trump said, \u201cLeave Tehran,\u201d most people here took his warning seriously, especially since Israel has promised a \u201csurprise\u201d by this weekend. In contrast, Islamic Republic state media continues to push propaganda claiming that \u201c<\/span>We <\/span><\/i>are winning.\u201d After the Israelis bombed the Iranian State Television building in Tehran late Monday night, the IRIB (Islamic Republic of Iran Broadcasting) presenter on air, reporter Sahar Emami, moved to a nearby studio and started broadcasting live after five minutes.<\/span><\/p>\n

During these days of war, Tehran feels more crowded than ever \u2014 not because of the numbers of people attempting to leave, but because of the flood of news, rumors, anxiety, and unanswered questions. Missiles fall, yet there are no warning sirens, no citywide blackouts. In the 1980s, when the air raid siren blared, everything stopped. Schools would close; the radio issued alerts. We\u2019d rush to underground shelters. But now, life goes on as if nothing has changed: Those who can\u2019t afford to leave Tehran wait in line at the bakery, a motorbike weaves through pedestrians on the street, and everyone\u2019s glued to their phones, watching the latest post by some influencer.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

On Monday, June 17, Israel struck 22 provinces across Iran \u2014 targeting nuclear facilities, Revolutionary Guard bases, even the homes of commanders. When I turned on the TV, it showed a building hit with surgical precision. An anchor on an Iranian satellite channel, broadcasting from abroad, exclaimed with excitement, \u201cThe commander who preached modesty lived in a luxury tower in uptown Tehran!\u201d And I wondered \u2014 how can there be such a vast gap between slogans and reality?<\/span><\/p>\n

That night I couldn\u2019t sleep. I drank calming herbal tea, but it didn\u2019t help. The night sky was lit with the trails of missiles. The sound of anti-aircraft guns echoed through the half-open window. Sometimes it was so far off, it resembled distant thunder. Other times, it was close enough to make the walls shake.<\/span><\/p>\n

This morning, while waiting in line at the bakery, I overheard two men arguing. One of them, speaking loudly, said: \u201cThank God they finally got shaken up. How long are we supposed to suffer while they sleep on oil money?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The second man replied: \u201cShaken up? Who got hit except the people? The dollar\u2019s at 90,000 tomans, and my wife can\u2019t even afford her anxiety meds. Yeah, they hit someone \u2014 but we\u2019re the ones dying.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

No one intervened. Everyone kept their heads down, as usual. Sometimes I think this collective indifference is a kind of self-defense. It\u2019s as if Tehran has decided to play dumb in order to survive.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\"Exhibit
Exhibit of a bombed home in the Islamic Revolution and Holy Defense Museum in Tehran, Iran (photo Matyas Rehak).<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
\n


\nBitter Tea and a <\/b>Tricolor Monarchy Flag<\/b><\/h4>\n

In the afternoon, I visited Nasrin, an old friend. We sat on the carpet, sipping bitter tea without sugar. The satellite TV was on. The host was reading viewers\u2019 messages aloud. One read: \u201cGood job, Israel \u2014 take them out one by one.\u201d Another said: \u201cWe hate the Islamic Republic, but Iran is still our country. This attack is a humiliation.\u201d<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

Nasrin gave a bitter smile and said, \u201cStrange, isn\u2019t it? How easily people now celebrate death.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I replied: \u201cWe\u2019re stuck somewhere in between \u2026 between hatred and belonging.\u201d<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

She nodded. \u201cExactly.\u201d<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cRemember during the war with Iraq?” I added. “When the red sirens went off, we\u2019d run to the basement. I can still hear that sound. My heart still races when I recall it. I\u2019m actually glad there are no sirens now. I don\u2019t want that fear to come back.\u201d<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

Nasrin: \u201cBut those sirens, as terrifying as they were, meant someone was looking out for us. Now there\u2019s nothing. Just silence.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I thought about it. This new war feels like a silent shadow. You don\u2019t have clear information. There\u2019s no safe place. Everything is hidden beneath a layer of distrust.<\/span><\/p>\n

After an hour, I got up to leave. I called a Snapp to get home. The driver was a young man with a patchy beard and sleepy eyes. Hanging from the rearview mirror was a small Iranian flag with the old lion and sun emblem. I felt compelled to ask, \u201cHave you had that hanging there for long?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He smiled. \u201cMy dad had it when I was a kid. I don\u2019t know why, but it makes me feel nostalgic.\u201d He was quiet for a moment, then added: \u201cI didn\u2019t sleep at all last night. I kept scrolling through the news, watching videos. Half of it is lies, and the other half is terrifying.\u201d<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd what do you really think?\u201d<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

He exhaled deeply. \u201cHonestly? A part of me feels satisfied when I hear a Revolutionary Guard commander got blown up. But at the same time, I\u2019m scared it might be my home next. What if a missile hits this very street we\u2019re driving on?\u201d<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

I looked at him through the mirror. He didn\u2019t say much, but there was a storm inside him. I said: \u201cIt\u2019s a kind of split feeling \u2026 like we don\u2019t know whether to feel happy or sad.\u201d<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

He gave a bitter laugh. \u201cThat\u2019s life now. Everything\u2019s halfway. No full hope, no full rage. Just a kind of limping along we\u2019ve decided to call normal.\u201d<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

We stopped at a red light. An old woman sat on the curb, holding a few matchboxes in her hands. No driver even glanced at her. The driver softly said: \u201cIn times like this, no one really sees anyone else. Everyone\u2019s just waiting for something to end. But nothing ends. It just stretches on.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n


\nIn the caf\u00e9s<\/b><\/h4>\n

The streets were quiet. Maybe because of the long lines at gas stations, fewer people were using their personal cars. Across the city, banners have gone up with slogans like <\/span>\u201cHarsh revenge\u201d<\/span><\/i>\u00a0and\u00a0<\/span>\u201cThe blood of the martyrs will not go unanswered.\u201d<\/span><\/i> The government is trying to steer people toward vengeance. The atmosphere in the city hovers somewhere between mourning and violence. But behind all this propaganda, people are simply exhausted.<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

A political analyst on a Persian-language TV channel based in London said: \u201cThe Iranian people are tired. You can\u2019t rally a nation to war when they\u2019re this psychologically worn out. They don\u2019t want war \u2014 they want a way out.”<\/span><\/p>\n

The city\u2019s caf\u00e9s are still open. Life goes on with a kind of stubbornness that resembles pain. There\u2019s a caf\u00e9 near my house that I often go to in the evenings. Sometimes I think people go to caf\u00e9s just to reassure themselves that everything hasn\u2019t completely collapsed yet. Conversations are intense.<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

I see Mani \u2014 a sociology student with thick hair and a trimmed beard. His words are laced with irony: \u201cWe thought they were spending all the money on drones, missiles, and air defense, but now it turns out the Iranian sky is full of holes \u2014 like Swiss cheese. The most high-ranking security officials couldn\u2019t protect themselves. How can I\u00a0<\/span>not<\/span><\/i> be worried about the safety of my own family? Just think how miserable we must be \u2014 to feel a kind of joy that another country has attacked us. That\u2019s how much injustice we\u2019ve endured. If our leaders had any real compassion for the people or for this ancient land, we wouldn\u2019t feel this way.\u201d<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

Another adds: \u201cAll the cities have become unsafe. We don\u2019t know where to go.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

A girl who recently came from Italy says anxiously: \u201cI was planning to go back, but there are no flights. I\u2019m even scared to drive to Turkey or Armenia. What if a missile hits on the way? What if that\u2019s how it ends?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMehdi\u201d<\/span> \u2014 a pseudonym for a young man I met at the caf\u00e9 \u2014 says: \u201cMy guess is this war will last one to two weeks. During that time, Iran has to set Israel on fire. Iranians are used to hardship, but Israelis aren\u2019t. They can\u2019t take it. We have to fight smart, get help from Hamas and Yemen. If a few countries join the war against Israel, the rest of the world will worry about their own interests and shut it down. Saudi Arabia shouldn\u2019t get too excited, either \u2014 it might get burned too.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He goes on: \u201cThis war is costly because of the distance between the two countries. Israel only seems this precise because of U.S. military support. On its own, it\u2019s nothing \u2014 just an American lapdog. We\u2019re fighting the U.S., not Israel.\u201d<\/span>
\n<\/span>
\n<\/b>\u201cNahid,\u201d a woman in her 60s sitting nearby, says with a lump in her throat: \u201cI\u2019m not into politics. But I hate politics. I don\u2019t understand why I have to be this scared. I hear noises at night, but I don\u2019t get up. If I\u2019m going to die, I\u2019d rather be gone in an instant \u2014 not left disabled and dying slowly.\u201d<\/span>
\n<\/span>
\n<\/span>In the metro, more than masks, it\u2019s worry you see on people\u2019s faces. Everyone\u2019s on edge. Each phone call or message brings a jolt of fear. A woman stood beside me, wearing a gray chador and holding a baby. The baby was asleep, but the corner of his lip twitched with fear. I pulled a small chocolate from my pocket and offered it with a smile.<\/span><\/p>\n

She didn\u2019t look at me, just whispered: \u201cHe\u2019s asleep. If he wakes up, he\u2019ll start crying again. Last night, he heard an explosion and jolted awake.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The silence inside the train was heavy. Only the sound of wheels over rails.<\/span><\/p>\n

Someone said quietly: \u201cIsrael said if their civilians are killed, they\u2019ll burn Tehran to the ground.\u201d<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

No one responded.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\"Exhibit
Exhibit of a bombed classroom in the Islamic Revolution and Holy Defense Museum in Tehran, Iran (photo Matyas Rehak).<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
\n


\nGrocery shopping<\/b><\/h4>\n

At the corner grocery store, the elderly shopkeeper stares at a muted television in the corner. On screen: fire and smoke, a map of Iran, blinking red dots. His name is Rahmat \u2014 a man who used to greet every customer with warmth. But now, his voice is quiet, his tone subdued.<\/span> \u201cMay God have mercy,\u201d\u00a0he says.\u00a0\u201cI lived through the Iran-Iraq war … back then too, everyone thought it would be over in a week.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

He\u2019s one of the first people I\u2019ve seen lately who looks\u00a0<\/span>truly<\/span><\/i> afraid. His generation knew war firsthand: mortars, sirens, food rations \u2014 those memories live in their bones.<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

The shops are still stocked, but people are starting to wonder if they should begin storing rice, bottled water, canned food \u2014 just in case. From the loudspeaker of the neighborhood mosque, revolutionary chants and old war anthems blare on loop. The sounds are familiar \u2014 pulling the city back into the 1980s, to the days when\u00a0<\/span>Ahangaran<\/span><\/i>\u2019s trembling yet defiant voice sent young men to the frontlines.<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

It\u2019s as if the city is lost in a fog of the past.<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

But something feels different now.<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

This is not a classic war. There are no trenches, no tanks, no soldiers with keffiyehs soaked in blood and dust. Yet, they still call it war \u2014 but the commands are typed from behind screens. Drones have replaced soldiers. And missiles arrive without warning \u2014 quieter, colder, more sudden than ever.<\/span><\/p>\n

Tonight I came home earlier than usual. My mother said she heard the sound of anti-aircraft guns. State TV plays nothing but heroic clips \u2014 images of recent martyrs, military anthems, and speeches calling people to resistance and war. In contrast, BBC Persian, Iran International, and other foreign outlets run nonstop analyses.<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

Tired anchors. Endless experts. But none of them can say for sure what will happen tomorrow.<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

A few nights ago, the Supreme Leader forcefully defended uranium enrichment. <\/span>He said,\u00a0“It\u2019s like a country having oil but being banned from building a refinery. Enrichment is our right.”\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The analogy \u2014 simple but sharp \u2014 stuck with me. Despite all my criticisms of the power structure in Iran, in that moment, it felt like he had a point. The right to knowledge. The right to stand on your own feet. But that night, war still hadn\u2019t arrived.<\/span><\/p>\n

Just days ago, a friend I\u2019ve known for years said, “Iran must not bow to the U.S. or Israel, even if the whole region goes up in flames.” Now, he\u2019s gone quiet \u2014 just staring at his phone and asking, “How long will this go on?”<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

I have no answer. No one does.<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

Coming from someone in his 50s who\u2019s seen violence up close, those slogans felt strange. It\u2019s easy to speak in absolutes from behind a safe desk.<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

My sister calls. She says, “I left a bag by the door. The house deed, some money, a few photos. If something happens, maybe I\u2019ll need it to prove I lived here \u2026 Oh, and if a missile hits, how am I supposed to run out in my pajamas?”<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

I don\u2019t know whether to laugh or cry. Even in the heart of disaster, people still worry about their dignity. I sat in front of my laptop. My fingers were numb. Outside, the noise had vanished, but this silence was worse \u2014 the kind that reminds you of the quiet just before an earthquake.<\/span><\/p>\n

I started writing: The caf\u00e9 was still half-empty. A few people spoke quietly about last night\u2019s news. One said, \u201cDrones came from the west, the air defense was late.\u201d Another replied, \u201cThey spent so much on Iraq, sent pilgrims to Karbala, called it a brother country \u2014 but now Iraq\u2019s airspace is open to Israeli planes.\u201d<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

I said nothing. Just listened. Like someone recording details that might matter later. The waiter took orders. The aroma of coffee permeated the air, alongside the nonstop news from last night until now.<\/span><\/p>\n

The city was the same city but its sounds were now woven with a hidden anxiety. War seemed to have crept into the fabric of everyday life, without shouting out its presence.<\/span><\/p>\n

Two middle-aged men at the next table started talking. One was named Mostafa, a retired bank employee. The other, Nader, said he was a retired political science professor from the University of Tehran. Their conversation was more serious than usual.<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

Nader, calm but sharp-eyed, began to analyze: \u201cLook, these Israeli attacks clearly show that the Islamic Republic\u2019s intelligence and security have been hit hard. People are only asking one thing now: Where is all that money they said they spent on defense? How could Israeli attacks be this precise?\u201d<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

He continued, \u201cRight now, you can see three distinct groups among the people. <\/span>One group still loyal to the regime\u2019s ideology, thinking this is a historic victory over Israel. Another group, mostly active on social media, exposes the regime\u2019s intelligence failures and talks about the security collapse.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe third group, maybe the largest, just wants to survive \u2014 trying to get gas, buy food, leave the city, or find a way to keep their family safe. They\u2019re not analysts or political; they\u2019re just tired and looking for a breath of fresh air.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Mostafa nodded and sighed, \u201cYeah. They\u2019re tired. And this weariness isn\u2019t something TV slogans can fix. People aren\u2019t stirred up by ads or rallies anymore.\u201d<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

Nader went on,\u00a0\u201cMost people hate the war. They\u2019re under heavy economic, social, and political pressure and don\u2019t want to pay the price of the regime\u2019s regional or ideological politics.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Many who oppose the policies of the Islamic Republic are by no means supporters of Israel \u2014 they condemn Israel for its occupation policies and the killing of civilians in Gaza. That old question stirs again in my mind: Are we supposed to pay such a high price just for our \u201clegitimate rights\u201d? And ordinary people \u2014 those who have no access to power, no say in decisions \u2014 what are they really paying for?<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

I don\u2019t know why I\u2019m writing this. Maybe because if I don\u2019t, I feel like I\u2019ll disappear. Not just from the map, but from my own mind. The war is still here, even if we\u2019ve hidden it behind weather reports and TV ads. Even if there\u2019s no siren.<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

My hand paused on the mouse. I thought maybe tomorrow there won\u2019t be electricity. Or the internet will be cut. Or this text might never reach anywhere.<\/span><\/p>\n


\nThe Persian psyche<\/b><\/h4>\n

Yesterday evening, on social media, many were posting pictures of their homes: clean, quiet living rooms lit by the soft afternoon light. Beneath the images, they wrote captions like: \u201cI hope you stay safe. I hope we see you again.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Leaving home wasn\u2019t just a logical decision \u2014 it was an emotional one. People wrote about what it meant to walk away from a space filled with memories: from books left on shelves, from houseplants watered one last time that morning, from chairs that might never be sat in again.<\/span><\/p>\n

But not everyone could leave. Some had no choice. One person wrote on social media: \u201cMy father just had open-heart surgery and was recently discharged from the hospital. Only my mother is caring for him, and even we can\u2019t get close to him because he needs to be kept in a sterile environment. How could we possibly leave Tehran in this condition?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The intensity of the bombing in Tehran and other cities has become terrifying. But even during attacks, the city lights stay on. The government has told people not to leave the capital. Officials announced that metro stations and mosques remain open 24\/7, so people can shelter there overnight. But not every neighborhood has a metro station nearby. Tehran\u2019s metro system isn\u2019t as extensive or accessible as it is in other larger cities. In many areas, the closest station might be several kilometers away.<\/span><\/p>\n

Now, most people spend their nights glued to the television, watching the news, trying to stay updated, listening for the next explosion. And when the bombs hit, no one knows where to run. In the high-rise apartment buildings of Tehran, stairwells are narrow, windows are everywhere, and often there are no basements. All you can do is stand in the middle of your home \u2014 or look out the window, staring up at the sky, hoping for a sign, but seeing none.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

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