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

Lyse Doucet: Under Fragile Ceasefire, Iranians Wonder if US Deal Can Be Done

As the arrival of spring triggers almond blossoms across the arid plains of Iran’s northwest, a tenuous pause in hostilities allows roads to fill with vehicles and citizens to return to their cities. Amid this fragile calm, Lyse Doucet observes the shifting mood among Iranians, who now gaze toward the future of diplomacy while grappling with the scars of recent conflict.

At a Turkish border crossing, a grey-haired financier recounts his experience during the war. “I spent a month with my son in Turkey, watching the snow fall heavily on the other side,” he says, standing in the cold departure hall. “In my northern hometown, the strikes from Israel and the US mostly targeted military installations—homes and civilian buildings were spared, at least for now.”

A Tale of Two Perspectives

Meanwhile, a woman in a traditional headscarf expresses quiet dread. “Of course, the ceasefire won’t last,” she says, her voice heavy with resignation. “Iran won’t relinquish control of the Strait of Hormuz.” Her words contrast with those of an older woman who whispers, “It’s all in God’s hands,” as she looks skyward, reflecting on the loss of young lives to shelling and the looming threat of Basij forces.

“I stayed with my son in Turkey for a month,” said a grey-haired banker. “In my city in the north the Israeli and American airstrikes mainly hit military targets, not homes and civilian infrastructure.”

“Of course, the ceasefire won’t hold,” declared a young woman in a bright red puffer jacket and knitted hat. “Iran will never give up its control of the Strait of Hormuz.”

As the journey continues toward Tehran, the route is now a detour along winding rural roads. The main bridge between Tabriz and the capital collapsed under missile fire last week, forcing trucks and buses to navigate alternate paths. The trip, spanning 12 hours, becomes a metaphor for the precarious balance between hope and fear.

President Trump’s recent rhetoric echoes the tension. Speaking to Fox Business News, he warned of the capability to dismantle Iran’s bridges and power plants in a single hour. Yet, he added, “we don’t want to do that.” The threat, though, lingers, casting a shadow over the fragile truce.

Targeting Civilian Infrastructure

The assault on civilian sites has drawn sharp criticism from legal experts. They argue that the strikes may violate international humanitarian law, potentially qualifying as war crimes. Despite the US and Israel’s insistence that their attacks focus on military targets, evidence of destruction is undeniable. A flattened barracks of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) stands as a stark reminder, its remains marked by a tattered flag draped over broken pillars.

Other facilities—police stations, factories, and residential areas—have also been hit, leaving communities to reckon with the cost of the conflict. Along the way, Doucet notes the cultural remnants of a storied past, such as a centuries-old caravanserai with vaulted ceilings and stained-glass windows, now repurposed as a roadside eatery. It’s a fleeting glimpse of Iran’s millennia-old heritage, juxtaposed with the modern urgency of political survival.

A Theocracy’s Priorities

Iran’s theocracy faces immediate challenges, but its gaze is fixed on broader geopolitical goals. New banners line highways, displaying portraits of 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 was reportedly gravely injured in the attack and has since remained out of public view.

Despite the loss of key figures, the focus remains on rebuilding alliances and securing the Strait of Hormuz. The recent 21-hour meeting in Islamabad between a US delegation led by Vice-President JD Vance and Iranian officials, including parliamentary speaker Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf, hints at efforts to bridge decades-old disputes over the nuclear programme and emerging issues like regional dominance.

As the journey concludes in Tehran, the city’s skyline reflects the dual realities of war and resilience. Iranians, whether in veils or bare-headed, navigate this landscape, their resolve tested by both the devastation of recent months and the uncertainty of what lies ahead.