Life in limbo: How Iranians navigate a state of ‘no war, no peace’

In eastern Tehran, Sajjad, a young man in his twenties, stands in front of the twisted iron and shattered concrete that was once his father’s home. The ruins have been left completely untouched since the bombardment.

“Who will rebuild all this?” he asks, his voice thick with grief.

Sajjad’s despair captures the suspended reality of millions in the Iranian capital. A fragile truce between the United States and Iran has paused air attacks, and Pakistani-mediated talks have sent Iranian Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi to Islamabad, Muscat, and Moscow in recent days.

Yet on the streets of Tehran, the absence of bombing does not equate to peace.

The architecture of waiting

Across the city, the disparity in recovery is stark.

While labourers rush to patch cracked facades and repair shattered windows on partially damaged structures, completely levelled residential blocks and official buildings remain frozen in time.

Mohammad, a 39-year-old architect, explains that the cost of building a single unit has multiplied in recent months.

The US-imposed maritime blockade has further devalued the national currency, while damage to domestic steel companies has driven up material costs. The country’s currency had already plummeted before the war due to decades of punishing US sanctions.

Even if funds were available, deep-seated psychological and security fears create even greater obstacles. Authorities have told displaced residents they must either rebuild the properties themselves or wait for post-war public tenders once a definitive peace is reached.

“If the war returns tomorrow, everything we build will be a new target,” Sajjad says.

For 52-year-old Maryam, the housing crisis is acute. Her home near the supreme leader’s office was destroyed in the first wave of strikes.

Initially placed in a government-funded hotel, she recently received an eviction notice. While officials promised a rental loan, she says the sum is woefully inadequate.