Iranians Mark Nowruz Amid War and Uncertainty

As the Persian New Year, known as Nowruz, approaches, the mood among Iranians both at home and abroad is anything but festive. The ongoing war that has engulfed Iran, coupled with the brutal crackdown on dissent, has cast a long shadow over what is traditionally a time of joy and renewal. Shayan Ghadimi, a 41-year-old restaurant owner in Paris, feels this weight acutely. Her 70-year-old mother, who had returned to Iran to witness the protests that erupted at the end of 2025, is now cut off from her family amid the chaos.

“When the protests began, she said, ‘I want to be there,’” Ghadimi recalled, reflecting on her mother’s decision to return home. “Now, she is all alone … with no way to stay in contact, watching the sky.” The absence of communication has left the family in an agonizing state of uncertainty as they prepare to mark Nowruz with heavy hearts or, in some cases, not at all.

In Paris, an Iranian cultural center that typically organizes music events for Nowruz has opted to mourn instead. Many Iranian American communities across the United States have similarly canceled or scaled back their celebrations due to the war and the ongoing crackdown on dissent.

Meanwhile, the conflict continues to escalate. Israel and the United States are launching attacks against Iran’s leadership and military, while Iran retaliates with missile and drone strikes aimed at Israel and Gulf Arab states. The situation has left many Iranians abroad feeling like they are on an emotional roller coaster. Shakiba Edighoffer, who was grocery shopping in Paris for Nowruz, expressed this sentiment: “Celebrating Nowruz helps us cope, at least a little, with the psychological pressure.” She emphasized the importance of holding onto their traditions, stating, “All these oppressors want is for us to be sad, to forget our millennia-old Persian and Iranian traditions.”

However, the atmosphere in Iran is starkly different. In Tehran, one woman, who spoke on the condition of anonymity for fear of reprisals, described a dismal reality: “There are no decorations in the streets. I had nearly forgotten it was Nowruz.” With fear keeping her close to home, she was forced to make do with whatever she could find for the traditional Haft-Seen table, which symbolizes new beginnings and hope.

“Why do you want to set it up, just forget it!” she recalled her mother saying, yet they persevered. In a small act of defiance, they burned espand—aromatic seeds meant to ward off evil—despite the grim circumstances.

In Ghadimi’s restaurant in Paris, the emotional toll of the war is palpable. “I have people in tears. I have people who cry for joy,” she noted. “They say, ‘Did you see? They are coming. We are going to be saved.’ Others say, ‘Our country is being destroyed.’” Since her mother returned to Iran, they have only managed to speak twice, and Ghadimi has stopped trying to reach her, finding the uncertainty too stressful.

“My sister calls 100 times a day and can’t reach her,” Ghadimi lamented. Her mother had initially promised to return for Nowruz, but during their last conversation, she expressed a desire to stay: “I am staying here until the end,” she told Ghadimi.

As the war rages on, the Iranian regime appears to believe it is winning. Three weeks into the conflict, they are signaling a confidence that they can impose a settlement on Washington, aiming to entrench Tehran’s dominance over Middle Eastern energy resources for decades. President Trump and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu have sent mixed signals regarding the duration of the war. Netanyahu claimed it would end “a lot faster than people think,” while Trump stated that the U.S. would wrap up the conflict in the “near future,” even as thousands of additional Marines were dispatched to the region.

However, the Iranian regime seems to think that time is on its side. “Iran also has a say in when the guns fall silent,” one analyst noted, emphasizing that the regime might be misreading the situation. The realities of war are harsh, and for many Iranians, daily life has become a struggle for survival. Hadi, a writer in Tehran, shared a stark message shortly after the U.S. and Israel began bombing: “The war has started.”

Hadi, who has spent years documenting the plight of dissidents under the regime, observed a significant shift in the public’s anger. “There is more open anger. Elderly women openly curse the regime,” he reported. The brutality of the government has intensified, leading to a mix of mourning and political rage among the populace.

In the midst of a widespread internet blackout enforced by the regime, Hadi has been unable to connect with many of his contacts. “The country has been plunged into silence,” he wrote, describing the chaos in the streets where lines for bakeries stretch for blocks, and grocery stores are running low on basic necessities. Prices for cigarettes have doubled, and essential services like hospitals and gas stations have closed.

On Nowruz, even as Iranians abroad struggle to find ways to celebrate, the regime executed three men convicted of killing police officers during anti-government protests, a stark reminder of the ongoing repression. Hadi’s last dispatch included a poignant image of a haft-sin table he prepared, adorned with old poetry books and mementos from lost loved ones. “The moment of the new year’s arrival was striking,” he reflected, recalling a childhood Nowruz during the war with Iraq, when air-raid sirens interrupted their celebrations.

Despite the turmoil, Hadi expressed a glimmer of hope: “I feel that this could be a very important year for the country. Even amid war, the weakening of the forces of repression may offer new possibilities for Iran’s freedom movement.” As Iranians across the globe grapple with the realities of their homeland, the spirit of Nowruz remains a testament to resilience and hope, even in the darkest of times.