Lyse Doucet: Under fragile ceasefire, Iranians wonder if US deal can be done
Lyse Doucet: Under Fragile Ceasefire, Iranians Reflect on US Deal Prospects
Amid the shifting landscape of northwestern Iran, where snow-capped mountains frame the rolling plains, spring has begun to bloom, coaxing almond trees into vibrant blossoms. The tentative truce has restored some movement along the highways, allowing more Iranians to return to their homeland. As we wait in the departure area of a Turkish border crossing, a weathered banker shares his perspective: “I spent a month with my son in Turkey. In our northern city, Israeli and American airstrikes primarily targeted military installations, not civilian homes or infrastructure.” His account captures five weeks of relentless conflict, interrupted by a two-week respite that may soon expire.
“I’m a bit scared,” murmurs an elderly woman in a headscarf, her lined face etched with concern. She speaks of the devastation inflicted on young Iranians—homeless by shells and threatened by Iran’s Basij forces patrolling the streets. “It’s all in God’s hands,” she adds, gazing upward as if seeking reassurance.
Contrasting this somber reflection, a younger woman in a bright red puffer jacket and knitted hat asserts, “Of course, the ceasefire won’t last. Iran will never relinquish control of the Strait of Hormuz.” As we pass through Turkish customs and enter the Islamic Republic, a man nearby scoffs when asked about the present calm: “Trump will never let Iran rest; he wants to swallow us whole!”
The journey to Tehran—only possible via roads since airports remain closed—forces us to navigate winding rural paths. A collapsed bridge linking Tabriz to the capital, damaged by missile strikes last week, has altered the route. This detour underscores the fragility of the situation, as Trump’s recent warning to Fox Business News echoes in the mind: “We could destroy every bridge in Iran in an hour,” he claimed, though he insisted the goal was not total annihilation.
Legal experts have voiced growing concern over the targeting of civilian structures, citing potential breaches of international humanitarian law. While the US and Israel argue their strikes focus on military sites, such as the flattened barracks of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps near Tabriz, the damage to factories and other facilities suggests a broader impact. A weathered flag hangs over the ruins, its presence a stark reminder of the war’s toll.
A Nation at Crossroads
As we stop at a roadside restaurant—a centuries-old caravanserai with stone vaults and stained-glass windows—Trump’s April 7 apocalyptic vision of “a whole civilisation dying tonight” lingers. The Iran of today is equally visible: some women wear veils, while others, of all ages, go bareheaded, a legacy of the 2022-2023 Woman Life Freedom protests. Despite enduring strict modesty rules and severe penalties, Iranian women now refuse to reverse progress.
Meanwhile, theocratic priorities dominate. New banners line the highways, displaying portraits of the three supreme leaders since the 1979 revolution: Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei—assassinated in the war’s opening strikes on February 28—and his son Mojtaba Khamenei, reported to have sustained serious injuries in the attack. Though absent from public view, Mojtaba is said to be shaping a new political and security strategy in response to the war and ongoing efforts to resolve longstanding tensions over Iran’s nuclear program, alongside emerging issues like control of the critical Strait of Hormuz.
