A palpable atmosphere of apprehension enveloped Iran in late January as rumors of an impending U.S. military strike permeated the nation. Citizens from Tehran to distant diaspora communities found themselves confronting the psychological toll of potential conflict, creating a complex tapestry of fear, preparation, and political disillusionment.
The tension emerged against the backdrop of heightened U.S. military movements in the Middle East, triggering not only multibillion-dollar arms agreements with regional allies but also profound anxiety among ordinary Iranians. This war anxiety compounds the collective trauma from recent violent crackdowns on economic protests that swept across Iranian cities, with estimated casualties ranging from official figures of 3,117 to outside reports exceeding 6,500 fatalities.
Across the capital, residents like Milad, a 43-year-old engineer, described sleepless nights spent listening for explosion sounds. Meanwhile, Shohreh, a 68-year-old Tehran resident, noted the conflicting public sentiments: “They think that if the US strikes, everything will be fine. Because of the killings committed by the Islamic Republic, people are becoming desperate.”
Practical preparations have become commonplace. Social media platforms, recently restored after a three-week internet blackout during protest suppression, now circulate extensive survival guides. Recommendations include stockpiling ten days of food and water, maintaining emergency medical kits, preparing evacuation bags with essential documents, and identifying safe spaces during attacks.
Arzoo, a 32-year-old government employee, reported her neighbor’s ominous warning: “Seal the windows. When they bomb, there will be no difference between the regime and the opposition.” Like many, she has taken practical precautions despite uncertainty about the information’s origins.
The anxiety extends beyond Iran’s borders to its approximately four-million-strong diaspora. Fatemeh, residing in Finland, expressed concern for her elderly parents in Tehran who lack evacuation options: “They said they had nowhere to go, which is why I asked a close friend to visit them and buy basic supplies.”
Amin, a 75-year-old retiree who survived both the Iran-Iraq war and last year’s conflict, captured the tragic dilemma: “This regime executed my closest comrades… I have no sympathy for it. But I also hate war. War will destroy everything left for us.”
Despite surface normalcy with schools operating and businesses open, profound disillusionment permeates Iranian society. Soroush, a 27-year-old student, articulated the sense of powerlessness: “Our lives and our deaths have become entertainment. A game for others”—referencing betting markets where speculators wagered on the timing of U.S. strikes.
Saba, a 41-year-old mother, voiced frustration with all political actors: “What a miserable people we are. Our rulers massacre people in the streets. Reza Pahlavi has become the face of our opposition abroad. And our enemy is a fool like Donald Trump.”
As Iranians navigate this precarious moment, they confront not only the threat of external conflict but also deep internal divisions and widespread skepticism toward both domestic leadership and external opposition figures, creating a complex landscape of fear and resilience amid escalating geopolitical tensions.
