Lyse Doucet: Under fragile ceasefire, Iranians wonder if US deal can be done

Lyse Doucet: Under Fragile Ceasefire, Iranians Question U.S. Deal Prospects

As spring unfurls across the northwestern Iranian plains, almond trees burst into lush bloom, their white blossoms contrasting with the snow-draped mountain ranges. Amid this natural revival, a tentative ceasefire has eased movement along roads, allowing more Iranians to return home after months of conflict. At a Turkish border crossing, a grey-haired banker shared his experience: “I spent a month with my son in Turkey, where the cold winter winds have made the air biting. In our northern city, Israeli and American airstrikes primarily targeted military installations, sparing civilian areas.”

“I’m a bit scared,” said an elderly woman in a headscarf, her expression marked by concern. She recounted the devastation of young Iranians, from the rubble of residential neighborhoods to the intimidation tactics of Iran’s Basij paramilitary forces. “It’s all in God’s hands,” she whispered, gazing upward as if seeking reassurance.

Meanwhile, a young woman in a red puffer jacket and knitted hat asserted: “The ceasefire won’t last. Iran will never relinquish control of the Strait of Hormuz.” As we navigated through Turkish customs into the Islamic Republic of Iran, a man nearby remarked: “Trump wants to devour us—he’ll never leave Iran untouched.”

The journey to Tehran, the only accessible route since airports remain closed, stretched over 12 hours. Vehicles had to veer onto narrow, winding roads due to the collapse of a key bridge linking Tabriz to the capital via Zanjan, damaged by missile strikes last week. Along the route, signs of the conflict were evident—flattened barracks of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps stood as silent witnesses, their remnants draped with a tattered flag. Other military bases, police stations, and factories had also been targeted in this region.

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Legal experts have raised alarms over the destruction of civilian infrastructure, citing potential breaches of international humanitarian law and the risk of war crimes. Despite U.S. and Israeli claims that strikes were focused on military objectives, the sight of flattened barracks on the outskirts of Tabriz underscored the blurred lines of conflict. Trump’s April 7 warning—that “a whole civilization will perish tonight”—echoed in the mind as we paused at a centuries-old caravanserai, its stone arches and stained-glass windows hinting at a heritage stretching back millennia.

Today’s Iran reveals both continuity and change. Some women wore veils, while others, across all ages, walked without head coverings—a legacy of the 2022-2023 Woman Life Freedom movement. Yet, theocracy’s immediate concerns remain. New banners now line highways, displaying portraits of three supreme leaders since the 1979 revolution: Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, and his son Mojtaba Khamenei, who was injured in the initial attacks on February 28 and has since remained out of public view. Reports suggest he is playing a pivotal role in shaping a new political and security strategy amid the war’s aftermath and ongoing negotiations over Iran’s nuclear program and control of the vital Strait of Hormuz.