Firsthand reports from contributors inside Iran
Israel’s air strikes revived the specter of war long gone - a ghastly déjà vu for Iranians who weathered the nigh decade-old struggle with Iraq and a grim induction into its sights and sounds for those too young to remember.
This was the first major attack on Iran in nearly four decades. Israel's previous actions have been assassinations or sabotage.
Before last week, many Iranians were confident that there would be no war, that those ruling Iran are too wary of their survival to lead the country to a full-on conflict. That sense of hopeful security is now gone.
It was around 2am. The sounds of missiles and anti-aircraft gunfire awoke the capital. I rushed to my mobile phone. Most did, I suspect. In moments like this, you just know that nothing worthwhile is to be found on state outlets.
Social media is all that there is, even if rife with speculation and lies. The lack of reliable sources compounds the sense of crisis.
Rozita, a 42-year-old woman living in western Tehran, recalls: “I woke up from the terrifying sounds of explosions and the howl of missiles. My husband and our two young ones were asleep. I gently shook my husband. ‘Get up, Israel’s attacking,’ I said. We turned on the TV - nothing! He said you’ve imagined it. Just then my sister called. ‘Who watches TV?’ she said when I said nothing was on the news, ‘it’s all on Telegram.’”
Iran’s state broadcaster is a parallel universe visualized. Stones and rocks could be raining on Tehran and the TV would have a turbaned man offering relationship advice. Officials do not bother to inform the public.
Everyone’s left to their own devices.
“We talk a lot about war in my family," said Sepehr, a 35-year-old who works in an advertising firm.
“My father naively believes that even if there is war, it’ll just be military targets, and civilians will continue with their lives in peace. But the current situation—not a war but the specter of war—has already hit our business. I may or may not be killed if there’s war, but I’ll sure as hell lose my job.”
Iran’s currency fell rapidly in anticipation of an Israeli attack. It regained some of its loss when it actually happened - a sign, perhaps, that the markets were expecting worse. And then there was the gas station ritual. That’s what we do in these parts: rush to the nearest pump at the first hint of a crisis.
“Youngsters always joke about the run on pumps. But I do it all the time.” said Babak, 52, a factory worker living a hard life.
“War is not just a missile hitting your roof and taking you to the other world. That would be bliss. War is famine, chaos, displacement. A full tank helps you a bit further if you need to. You stock up everything at times of crisis. Why not gas?”
Very few believe a full-scale war is that close. But hearing explosions and seeing fiery projectiles has turned the abstraction to reality, however remote at the moment. And of course there’s the casualties - five, according to the official tally, four soldiers and one civilian nightwatchman.
Up until last week, many argued for an Israeli attack, reassuring others that civilians wouldn’t be harmed since Israel had promised to target only military personnel. The day after the attack, you could tell that that hopeful belief was being revisited.
Tahereh, a 24-year old student living in a dormitory in Tehran, thinks the distinction between civilian and military is not as clear as many suggest. “My brother is a conscript, a ‘zero-rank’ soldier. He failed to get into university and had to do his (mandatory) service."
"He cooks and sweeps and washes in a base. So is he a legitimate target? Would those who say Israel hits the Islamic Republic only be OK if my brother died?”
It’s a fair question. And people don’t agree on the answer, as far as I can tell. What most Iranians may agree on is that things look as if they will get worse before getting better.
War looms and prices rise. Officials in Tehran bluster and brag. In Tel Aviv, they warn that there’s more to come - that Iran’s skies are open with defense systems destroyed.
“Some say an Israeli attack hastens the demise of the Islamic Republic and welcome it if civilians are not targeted,” Tahereh adds, visibly worried about his brother who has to serve for another year at least. “They say there’s light at the end of the tunnel. I hope they’re right. I just fear that the light might be that of an oncoming train.”
