Iran faces bombs and uncertainty a month into the war

Summary

One month into the war, Iranians described a reality shaped by explosions, disrupted communications, and financial strain layered on top of earlier shocks from unrest and government crackdowns. Several people interviewed by the Associated Press said daily airstrikes can damage homes, disrupt businesses, and keep people unsure about where the conflict is headed.

For a 26-year-old designer in Tehran who described moving to her parents’ house when the war began Feb. 28, the instability has continued even within her family compound. She said she only leaves to buy necessities and that a nearby strike blasted her apartment a few days after she left; she also said she does not have home insurance and expects to pay for repairs herself. She linked the war’s immediate setbacks to a longer economic downturn that had already left many people vulnerable.

She said her company, which with a partner makes leather fashion products, was nearing closure and attributed much of the collapse to the internet blackout that began in January. “When the economy gets bad, nonessential goods are the first thing to be removed from the shopping cart,” she said, adding that much of her sales depend on online access. She said the blackout “practically reduced ‘the small sales to zero,’” and that she had to live off savings as the crackdown after the January protests intensified, leaving her too shaken to return to work.

Other interviewees described uncertainty about how long the war could last and how it would change Iran’s political trajectory. The AP reported that the people it spoke with were mostly speaking on condition of anonymity for their security. Across the country, many said fear of explosions has become part of routine life, including the experience of trying to interpret strikes amid incomplete information.

In Tehran, an engineer described the “terrifying cadence” of airstrikes as something that shapes daily decisions, including whether and when it is safer to be out. He said he has tried to find a pattern in the attacks and that recent nights included explosions that lit up the skies. When a blast shook his home one evening while he hosted guests, he said they went to the roof but did not see visible fire. He said strikes seemed less frequent to him at times, or that his “perception of it has changed” as people grow used to bombings.

He also said anxiety has affected his ability to sleep and his comfort with friends and family going out. He described having had a job offer before the war began, but said he does not know whether it still exists. He added that many people may soon struggle with rent and bills as businesses close for days or reduce hours, even as government workers continue receiving salaries.

For medical workers outside the capital, the war’s spillover has also hit services already stressed by earlier turmoil. In Rasht, a pediatric hospital doctor told the AP that the number of patients has nearly doubled and that medicines are running out. He said patients and families are being asked to buy basic supplies from the market, including antibiotics and IV fluids, and that the internet blackout has limited doctors’ ability to access patients’ histories and check dosages online.

The doctor also said the blackout and the danger of reaching witnesses have affected efforts to document casualties from the January crackdown, because people with information are unreachable and the online database is inaccessible. He said he has been trying to cope with the pressures of the situation by passing time with television or video games, describing spending a week binge-watching the American postapocalyptic horror drama “The Walking Dead.”

Across the interviews, people also described mixed feelings about how the war might end and what it could mean for Iran’s ruling theocracy. Some continued to express anger at the attacks while emphasizing a desire to rebuild afterward. The AP reported that a man in Tehran said he was angered by deaths and damage to infrastructure and military capacities, but also suggested he planned to channel that anger into determination to rebuild.

At the same time, others feared that military pressure could leave behind a “wounded but even more oppressive” Islamic Republic, and that negotiations—if they occur—could deepen the political order rather than overturn it. One woman in her 40s said she feared negotiations more than war and told the AP, “This is what our situation has come to — we are willing to endure war in the hope of being freed from them.” The doctor in Rasht said he viewed the conflict as “the last remaining option” for removing the ruling clerics, while worrying about how the United States and Israel are conducting the war.

The AP also reported that authorities have continued organizing pro-government street rallies, and that the Basij, a paramilitary force charged with internal security, has increased patrols even as it has been targeted in airstrikes. One lawyer in southwestern Iran, who told the AP earlier in the war that she dreamed of the Islamic Republic crumbling, described a more introspective stance after a month of bombings, saying, “There is no sign of hope, no dreams, no joy,” and adding that “Worry about the future has taken over.”

And as people try to live with uncertainty, several described communication limits and everyday disruptions as central parts of the crisis. With explosions near and far described as unpredictable, and with an internet blackout since January cutting people off from the outside world, civilians said the conflict has become not only a military event, but also a prolonged disruption to work, care, and the ability to plan.