Lyse Doucet: Under fragile ceasefire, Iranians wonder if US deal can be done
Lyse Doucet: Iranians Reflect on US Deal Amid Tenuous Ceasefire
As spring transforms the plains of northwest Iran, almond trees burst into a frothy bloom, and a temporary pause in hostilities allows roads to fill with more vehicles. The region, bordered by snow-draped mountains, now sees a renewed flow of people returning to their country after a prolonged conflict. At a Turkish border crossing, a grey-haired banker recounts his time in Turkey: “I spent a month with my son there,” he says, standing in the departure hall where winter’s chill lingers. His city in the north, he explains, has been the target of Israeli and American airstrikes, which mostly struck military installations rather than civilian areas.
Further along the journey, an elderly woman in a headscarf expresses her unease. “I’m a bit anxious,” she says, her face creasing with concern. She describes the toll on Iranian youth, from the destruction of residential neighborhoods by missiles to the presence of Basij paramilitary forces on the streets. “Everything rests in God’s hands,” she murmurs, gazing upward as if seeking reassurance.
Voices of Uncertainty
Contrasting this sentiment, a young woman in a bright red puffer jacket and knitted hat declares, “Of course, the ceasefire won’t last,” she insists. “Iran will never relinquish control of the Strait of Hormuz.” Her words reflect a broader apprehension about the future. Meanwhile, the collapse of a major bridge linking Tabriz to Tehran via Zanjan has forced travelers onto detours. This structure, once vital to the region, was destroyed by missile fire last week, underscoring the fragility of the current calm.
The US and Israel maintain they are targeting only military infrastructure, yet legal experts voice growing concerns. They highlight the damage to civilian facilities as potential breaches of international humanitarian law. In Tabriz, the remnants of an Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps barracks stand as a stark reminder, its ruins marked by a flag draped over concrete pillars like broken teeth. Other installations, including factories and police stations, have also been hit, raising questions about the war’s impact on daily life.
A Nation at Crossroads
Amid these challenges, the cultural landscape of Iran remains vivid. A roadside restaurant, a centuries-old caravanserai with vaulted ceilings and stained-glass windows, offers a glimpse into the country’s enduring heritage. Yet, the modern Iran of today is equally apparent—some women still wear veils, while others, of all ages, walk without head coverings. This reflects the legacy of the 2022-2023 Woman, Life, Freedom protests, which continue to influence the nation’s direction.
As the 12-hour drive to Tehran unfolds, the capital’s fate hangs in the balance. With airports closed, the only route is through rural roads now littered with signs of conflict. The threat of US action looms large, particularly the president’s warning that “every bridge in Iran could be destroyed in an hour.” Yet, he adds, “we don’t intend to do that.” The recent meeting between a US delegation led by Vice President JD Vance and Iranian officials in Islamabad reveals tense negotiations, lasting 21 hours, aimed at resolving long-standing disputes over the nuclear programme and the control of critical shipping lanes.
Leaders in the Shadows
Back in Iran, the presence of the three supreme leaders since the 1979 revolution is ever-present. Banners lining highways feature Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei—assassinated in the war’s opening days on 28 February—and his son Mojtaba Khamenei, who was seriously wounded in the attack and has yet to reappear publicly. Despite the turmoil, he is said to be shaping a new political and security strategy, seeking to mend ties with its long-standing adversary while navigating the aftermath of this devastating conflict.