At Turkish border town, Iranians seek respite from ‘endless’ war at home

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KAPIKOY, Turkey - He was at home in Tehran, in the eastern part of the city near a long string of military bases, when the bombing began – thunderous booms that only accelerated in magnitude and quantity. Night after night, bombs struck, 50 to 100 times.

“There were so many attacks in my direction,” said Mr Emad, a 49-year-old Iranian importer. “When I went to the kitchen, I didn’t know if I would make it back to the couch. And every night when I went to sleep, I didn’t know if I would wake up alive.”

Three weeks into the war, his business pulled him back to Canada, offering him a welcome respite, though it was a hard decision to leave his family behind.

Mr Emad spoke to The Straits Times on March 21 as he crossed into Turkey. He was exhausted following a lengthy car trip to the mountainous border crossing at Kapikoy, a bustling frontier hub that has long been one of the main land gateways into and out of Iran.

Since the war began, it has taken on a crucial role, with thousands leaving Iran or heading back after their travels.

On a recent weekend, just after the March 20 start of Persian New Year festivities, Iranians had come from cities such as Urmia, Tabriz and Kermanshah in the western part of Iran, as well as Tehran, Karaj and Isfahan, and as far as Nishapur in the east.

Minibuses filled up fast, taking people to Van, an hour and a half away in eastern Turkey, to drink legally at the city’s many restaurants and cafes, and to take a break from the war for a day or two. Others were going farther on vacations abroad. A few were leaving Iran for good, having secured visas to study or work.

Van has long been known as a playground for Iranian vacationers, and its airport has now become a vital air link for Iran, where all airspace is closed to commercial traffic.

Not everyone was headed west, however. Some were going back home to Iran after business trips or holidays, or returning to be with their families, or to stand in solidarity with their nation at a time of war.

The Iranians declined to give their last names or be photographed, for fear they would be targeted by the regime. But they spoke about Iran with poignancy and poetry, often using humour to mask their pain and fear.

“Tell Mr Trump to stop bombing us at seven in the morning,” said one man from Isfahan, in a group of two families with their children seeking a break from the war. “Tell him to start at nine so we can sleep in a little.”

Everyone burst into laughter.

In some ways, the frontier between Iran and Turkey is an artificial line in the snow-covered mountains. People on both sides speak the same mix of languages – Turkish, Azeri, Persian and Kurdish – drink the same thick-brewed tea, feast on the same grilled dishes, and celebrate the same Nowruz holiday.

But the border crossing is also a portal to another world.

Iran had barely recovered from nationwide protests in January, during which the regime killed thousands of people, when the war began in late February.

Those emerging from the gate immediately relax their shoulders and release deep breaths. They check their phones for unrestricted internet. They sit down on their suitcases and wait patiently for their rides to Van and beyond.

Those preparing to enter Iran stiffen up, go quiet, and soldier ahead.

“I don’t know if I will be arrested,” said one young man carrying a rucksack, as he milled about in front of the border gate for 30 minutes before gathering himself up to cross the frontier.

A UN official monitoring the border told The Straits Times that about 2,000 people a day cross the checkpoint. The number has yet to surge – there is no refugee crisis as yet, and in fact, numbers are down in 2026.

Hoteliers in Van said they were disappointed by the subdued arrivals during the Persian Nowruz holidays in 2026, with many Iranians opting to stay home and conserve resources.

“Iranians are so brave,” said Ms Mandana, a 40-something mother of two girls, who was headed back to her home in a wealthy neighbourhood in Tehran after a training programme on dairy production in Spain. “I was waiting for the war to end, but I realised quickly that this war is going to be endless.”

She backs the US and Israeli war, and hopes that it will lead to the restoration of the monarchy and the ascent of Mr Reza Pahlavi, a US-based opposition figure and son of the country’s last monarch.

Mr Pahlavi has emerged as the most prominent opposition figure abroad, and has anointed himself a transitional leader if and when the regime in Tehran collapses or is deposed.

Opposed to Mr Pahlavi was Mr Hamed, a 40-year-old software engineer who was going back to Istanbul, where he works as chief technology officer for an international company, after a visit with family in Tabriz.

“No one actually trusts Pahlavi. I’m ashamed to say that he’s an Iranian,” he said.

He insisted that many Iranians supported the Islamic republic regime. “You can see that in the streets,” he said in reference to frequent pro-regime rallies organised by the authorities.

Unlike Ms Mandana, he thought the war would make Iran stronger. “Now we are controlling the Strait of Hormuz,” Mr Hamed said. “Before, Iran was allowing people to cross without a penny. From now on, they will have to pay a toll.”

Before, he said, other nations would sanction Iran out of fear of American power. “From now on, I don’t think they’ll be afraid.”

Iranians at the border described relative normality inside the country, punctuated by moments of chaos and air strikes. Shops are full, though prices are edging up, and fuel shortages have begun. Tehran has emptied, many said, with residents fleeing to avoid potential tumult or violence.

They recounted scenes of destruction and a tightened security atmosphere in the capital, with uniformed and plainclothes forces arrayed along sidewalks and streets.

Among them were militiamen of the Basij, a volunteer paramilitary group within the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, members of the Interior Ministry, and uniformed soldiers of the armed forces.

Mr Davoud, a 66-year-old Iranian living with his immediate family in Germany, was visiting relatives in Tehran when the war started. He said several of his friends had been arrested a week earlier “because of their leftist politics”, and he feared that as a dual passport holder, he might be next.

“They were looking for me. I escaped,” he said, after crossing the border to Turkey. “My children in Germany were scared for me. I don’t like the regime. But I don’t want monarchy. I want Iran to be democratic. But we are just small people. What can we do?”

The war, which has stretched on for nearly a month, has left at least 3,291 Iranians dead, including at least 1,455 civilians, according to the US-based Human Rights Activists News Agency. The bombings have been relentless, with US and Israeli precision weapons targeting mostly military sites and the political leadership, but also attacking civilian infrastructure and regularly causing intense damage to residences.

Mr Ali, a 40-year-old supermarket company employee, said his daughter is especially terrified by the bombing. The family lives in Karaj, capital of Alborz province, not far from Tehran, which was the scene of major anti-government protests in January that triggered intense violence.

When the air strikes began, he and his wife took their scared children, a 12-year-old son and 13-year-old daughter, into the basement.

Headed back home after a quick business trip to Turkey, Mr Ali said he had prepared a go-bag with some cash, vital documents and a few changes of clothes in case the family needed to flee quickly. “I remember my father did the same during the Iran-Iraq war,” he said, referring to the 1980-1988 conflict, in which both countries exchanged rocket fire and air strikes.

Like him, many living in Iran feel helpless and simply want freedom from sanctions and oppression. But even amid the chaos, people go on with their ordinary lives, with office workers continuing to show up at their cubicles.

Nonetheless, Ms Saideh, an English teacher in her 40s from Urmia, fears for the mental health and safety of her students.

“People have a hierarchy of needs, and when there is war, everyone descends to the bottom of the needs pyramid,” she said, on her way to the Turkish city of Gaziantep. She was going on a long-planned 10-day holiday with her husband and two children. “I’m leaving for a bit of calm, a little meditation,” she said.

She criticised both the regime and the countries attacking it. She said she “didn’t feel anything” when supreme leader Ali Khamenei was killed on the first day of the war, and suggested he got his comeuppance.

In Urmia, capital of Iran’s West Azerbaijan province, the local Azeri-speaking population is angry because it is not given the right to teach its children their native language in schools, said Ms Saideh.

“When you don’t have the language, you lose the culture. People offered up good solutions, but no one in the government listened,” she said.

She did not think the bombing would lead to any change for the better. With schools closed because of the war and classes held on the highly restricted national internet network, she is trying to comfort her students in online sessions.

Despite the US and Israeli aims of regime change, the person now ruling the country is Mr Mojtaba Khamenei, the eldest son of the slain supreme leader. The new leader, elevated to the clerical rank of ayatollah, is considered even more hardline than his ultra-conservative father, and many worry he will seek revenge against Iranians deemed insufficiently loyal to the regime if he remains in power once the war is over.

Young Iranians who grew up knowing only the older Khamenei as their leader wonder if their fate is sealed regardless of the war’s outcome.

On a bus heading to Van, a group of friends in their 30s from Urmia cracked open cans of Efes beer they had just purchased at the duty-free shop along the frontier. They said they just wanted a break for a day or two to get away from the tension of war. Mr Akbar, a 30-year-old gold merchant, rambled at length in his criticism of the regime.

“For me, it’s not important which government is in Iran,” he said. “What’s important is rights – my right to drink and women’s right not to be forced to wear hijab. And I don’t want to pay Mercedes prices for Chinese cars. And I want my passport to be worth something when I go abroad.”

But he also said he opposed the US and Israeli war, and mocked the claim that the two countries were coming to the aid of the protesters seeking to bring down the regime.

“We will be victorious in this war,” he said, shifting his tone from criticism of his country to pride in its accomplishments. “Iran is a very powerful country. When it’s time we go to war, we will go to war. When it’s time to protest, we will protest.”

But outsiders should keep out, he said. “The protests are a family matter.”