The Surprisingly Normal Streets of Tehran

While bombs fell on Iranian targets for weeks, ordinary life in Tehran refused to collapse. Reporter Ali Hashem spent 50 days in the capital during the conflict and described shops, malls, and restaurants staying open, with residents returning after an initial exodus and normalizing the rhythm of war much as they did during the eight-year Iran-Iraq slaughter of the 1980s.

The contrast with February is stark. Days after protests that left at least 3,500 dead by the government’s count—and possibly double that, or even 40,000 according to opposition and Trump figures—Tehran’s mood had been raw. Citizens spoke openly about welcoming outside intervention. Yet once Israeli and American strikes began, many of those same voices shifted. Anti-regime Iranians Hashem knew told him the time for protest had passed: “This is a war, and right now we need to concentrate on war, on how to defend our country.”

That rally-around-the-flag effect surprised even seasoned war correspondents. Hashem, who has covered Lebanon, Gaza, Libya, and Somalia over two decades, said he had never seen civilians—women, children, men—gathering nightly in public squares under the threat of attack. They came at 3 a.m. or 4 a.m. to signal solidarity, supplied with infrastructure by the state but driven by genuine defiance. Trump’s rhetoric about erasing Iranian civilization or redrawing its map only swelled the crowds.

The regime’s internet blackout forced a turn to a domestic intranet offering local versions of Netflix, Uber, and WhatsApp, letting daily routines limp forward. Hashem moved freely without minders, a privilege granted to Al Jazeera, BBC, CNN, and Channel 4 crews. He watched neighbors relocate families north while breadwinners stayed behind, and he noted the system and society together attempting to absorb a conflict they feared could drag on indefinitely.

Iranian pride, not affection for the clerical state, appears to be the binding agent. Even critics bridled at being addressed as a civilization slated for erasure. The result is a temporary truce between rulers and ruled: “Whenever there is no war, we can protest the system. But when there is a war… we have to be with our country.”

Whether that solidarity outlives the shooting is the real test. The deeper rift that produced thousands of corpses in the streets only months ago has not vanished; it has simply been subordinated to the louder logic of existential threat. The squares may empty again once the bombs stop.

Original reporting: Foreign Policy.