‘What if we’re left with ruins?’: Doubts creep in for Iranians who supported war
What if we’re left with ruins?’: Doubts creep in for Iranians who supported war
A Tehran resident shared with the BBC: “Initially, we believed the strikes would eliminate key leaders and bring the regime down swiftly, but two weeks in, I find myself jolted awake by explosions each night.” Her initial backing for the conflict has given way to growing frustration. For some Iranians critical of their leadership, the war they once viewed as a catalyst for political transformation is now prompting a painful reevaluation, as the toll of the fighting begins to overshadow their optimism.
Many Israeli and American officials have positioned the campaign as a means to diminish Iran’s nuclear and missile capabilities, but hints from figures like former US President Donald Trump suggest a broader aim: toppling the regime entirely. This vision initially sparked hope among critics of the clerical establishment. Yet, as the war drags on, the reality on the ground is proving more complex, especially for those inside the country.
Since late February, Iranian authorities have imposed a near-total internet blackout, making it harder for journalists to reach citizens. Despite these restrictions, the BBC managed to speak with several Iranians who opposed the government but had initially supported military action. Their names were kept anonymous to protect them from potential arrest or imprisonment for expressing dissent.
“For years we have protested,” said Sama, a 31-year-old engineer in Tehran. “Every time they silence us, they kill us. When the strikes started, I thought, this is what the regime cannot survive.”
Sama recounted her brief elation when reports surfaced that Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, had been killed in US-Israeli strikes. “I was screaming in happiness when the big news was confirmed,” she said. However, as the conflict enters its second week, her mood has shifted. “Now I see some are terrified, and people I know are wondering if their neighbourhood will be targeted next,” she added. “I can’t sleep anymore. I wake up either to the sound of explosions, or because of nightmares about them.”
Mina, a 28-year-old teacher in a northern city, expressed similar concerns. “This fanatic regime brought us this war, I know,” she said. “But when you see the massive fires and hear explosions, when you see young children afraid and crying, you start thinking about whether this can ruin the country you love and live in.” She noted that some friends, who once openly discussed regime collapse, have grown more cautious as the war continues and senior officials remain in power.
Mina questioned the long-term consequences: “What if we are left with ruins and the same mullahs and the same government? Only more oppressive and more defiant?” Others share her anxiety, fearing that even if the regime falls, the chaos of transition could threaten stability. Ali, a 31-year-old shopkeeper injured during January protests, voiced these worries. “Everyone talks about ‘regime change’ like it’s a simple switch,” he said. “But who will take power? What stops the country from falling into chaos, even if they somehow manage to bring the regime down?”
The UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR) estimates that between 600,000 and one million Iranian households are now displaced internally due to the ongoing conflict. This represents up to 3.2 million people, with the number expected to rise as hostilities continue. The data underscores a worrying surge in humanitarian needs, challenging the notion that the war is a straightforward path to political renewal.
