Cora Engelbrech
One night in early March, an Iranian writer and dissident climbed to the roof of his apartment building, in Tehran, to marvel at a towering inferno that had blanketed the sky in smoke. The blaze was from a series of oil depots that had been hit by air strikes—the latest target in the United States and Israel’s joint operation against Iran. Since the conflict began, the writer, whom I will call Hadi, was among dozens of neighbors who emerged on rooftops or balconies every night to cheer at the constellation of missiles razing their city. But this night felt different. “You feel a mix of amazement and terror,” he told me. “Like watching a meteor shower from the end of days.” Overnight, the smoke coiled upward and gave way to acid rain that stained the city black.
After the U.S. and Israel killed the Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, on the first day of the operation, President Trump called on Iran’s ninety-two million people to rise up and establish a new order. But an uprising seems unlikely, at least for now. As of this week, more than fourteen hundred Iranians have been killed. Thousands have fled Tehran, the epicenter of the attacks. One father told me that he left in less than an hour, after celebrating his son’s fourth birthday. “We blew out candles, said farewells to friends, and got into our car,” he said. “My son hates loud noises. I had told him Superman was coming to save Iran, and that we would be back soon
No comments:
Post a Comment