Lyse Doucet: Under Fragile Ceasefire, Iranians Question US Deal Prospects

Spring has awakened in the northwest of Iran, where almond trees have pushed into bloom against the backdrop of snow-draped hills. Amid this seasonal shift, a tentative truce has allowed roads to see more traffic than before, drawing people back to the country. A grey-haired banker shares his experience as we wait in the departure hall of a Turkish border crossing, where winter’s grip still lingers. “I spent a month with my son in Turkey,” he says, his voice carrying the weight of a war that has left his northern city battered by strikes on military sites rather than civilian areas.

On the journey to Tehran, the capital, the route is now rerouted through winding rural roads. The main bridge connecting Tabriz to the capital via Zanjan collapsed under missile fire last week, forcing vehicles to detour. As the convoy moves slowly, the president of the United States looms in the thoughts of those inside. Trump’s recent warning about destroying every bridge in Iran within an hour echoes through the silence, even as he claims the strikes are “not meant to harm civilians.”

“I’m a bit scared,” an elderly woman in a headscarf admits, her lined face etched with concern. “The young are suffering—shells hit crowded neighborhoods, and Basij forces patrol the streets like ghosts.” She pauses, then murmurs, “It’s all in God’s hands,” lifting her gaze skyward.

A young woman in a bright red puffer jacket and knitted hat counters such fears. “The ceasefire won’t last,” she declares. “Iran will never surrender control of the Strait of Hormuz.” Her words reflect a broader anxiety about the strategic stakes of the conflict, which has tested the resilience of both nations.

Along the route, remnants of the war are visible. A flattened barracks of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps stands as a stark symbol of the violence, its ruins marked by a tattered flag draped over rusted pillars. Other military installations, police stations, and factories have also been targeted, drawing criticism from legal experts who warn of possible breaches in international humanitarian law.

Legacy of Resistance and a Nation’s Struggles

At a roadside restaurant, a centuries-old caravanserai with stone arches and stained-glass windows, the enduring spirit of Iran is on display. Some women wear veils, others do not, a reflection of the 2022-2023 Woman, Life, Freedom protests that challenged strict modesty rules. Yet, for now, the theocracy’s attention is fixed on immediate threats.

Along highways, new banners prominently feature the three supreme leaders since the 1979 revolution: Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei—assassinated in the war’s first days on 28 February—and his son, Mojtaba Khamenei, who remains out of public view after being severely injured in the attack. Rumors suggest he is shaping a new political and security strategy to address the aftermath of this devastating conflict and longstanding tensions over Iran’s nuclear program.

As the drive continues toward Tehran, the question lingers: Can a fragile peace hold, or will the US-Iran standoff reach its breaking point? The answer, it seems, depends on whether the current calm can translate into lasting agreement.