In the past twenty days, the conflict involving Iran, Israel, and the United States has entered a new and dangerous phase of military escalation. While governments discuss deterrence, strategy, and regional security, the reality on the ground appears very different: the human cost of war, as often happens, falls primarily on civilians.

According to numerous testimonies and local sources, several military strikes have hit densely populated urban areas. Residential buildings, civilian infrastructure, and medical centers have been severely damaged. Among the incidents that have sparked the greatest outrage is the bombing of an elementary school attended by young girls during school hours.

Another particularly dramatic episode concerns a hospital which, according to various reports, was struck or seriously damaged during the attacks. When healthcare facilities become direct or indirect victims of military operations, the humanitarian consequences multiply dramatically.

Modern wars increasingly reveal a bitter truth: the line that should separate military targets from civilian life tends to dissolve rapidly. Residential neighborhoods suddenly become war zones, families find themselves trapped between sirens and explosions, and children grow up surrounded by the sound of bombs.

Behind every casualty figure, there are human stories: parents searching for their children among the rubble, doctors working tirelessly in overcrowded hospitals, and families forced to abandon their homes in search of safety elsewhere.

At the same time as the military violence, another phenomenon has worsened the situation: the near-total disruption of internet access in Iran. This digital blackout has isolated millions of citizens from the rest of the world, making it extremely difficult to circulate independent information and monitor the humanitarian situation.

When a society is simultaneously struck by bombardment and informational silence, the risk is that human suffering becomes invisible.

 

A Longer History of Authoritarianism

The tragedy of war is embedded within a longer history of political authoritarianism. The Iranian people have lived for over a century through cycles of concentrated power, repression, and unfulfilled promises of reform.

First under a centralized monarchy that limited democratic participation, and then under an Islamic Republic that established a theocratic system dominated by unelected religious institutions.

Both models have produced restrictions on civil liberties, censorship, and persecution of political opponents.

However, the Iranian crisis cannot be resolved simply by replacing one authority with another.

 

Opposition, Leadership, and Internal Divisions

In recent years, some opposition figures in exile have attempted to present themselves as alternatives to the current system. In particular, the figure of Reza Pahlavi is sometimes proposed as a potential leader of a future transition.

However, his leadership has been the subject of strong criticism from various Iranian political and social groups.

Many activists believe that his political approach has contributed to increasing divisions within the opposition, particularly in relations with different communities and ethnic minorities in the country, including Kurds, Baluchis, Turks, Turkmen, Lors, and Bakhtiari.

According to these critics, the inability to build an inclusive and pluralistic political front has weakened the democratic opposition and fueled new internal tensions.

Moreover, during years of popular protests, some observers have argued that calls and mobilizations from abroad have at times encouraged young demonstrators to take to the streets without adequate protection structures or political organization, exposing them to violent state repression.

Recent Iranian history shows that when citizens take to the streets against an authoritarian system, they often pay a very high price.

The debate over the Iranian opposition is therefore marked by deep questions:

What type of leadership can truly represent the democratic aspirations of society?

 

War, Intervention, and Civilian Costs

Another controversial issue concerns the positions of some opposition figures regarding international military pressure against Iran.

Part of Iranian society fears that any support for bombing or military intervention could further increase the suffering of civilians.

In this sense, the greatest risk is that the fate of millions of people is turned into a tool of geopolitical struggle or political ambition.

Recent history in the Middle East clearly shows that wars rarely produce democracy. More often, they leave behind destroyed cities, collapsed economies, and societies traumatized for generations.

For this reason, a central question remains unavoidable:

How much longer must civilians pay for decisions made far from their lives?

The Iranian people have already paid a heavy price through decades of authoritarianism, economic crises, and international isolation. Forcing them to also bear the cost of war would be a historic mistake of incalculable proportions.

 

The Economic Cost of War and the Issue of Reparations

Beyond the humanitarian tragedy, every war carries an economic cost that can burden a society for4 generations.

Destroyed infrastructure, damaged energy networks, bombed cities, and weakened healthcare systems require decades of reconstruction.

Recent history provides clear examples. After the 1991 Gulf War, Iraq was required to pay substantial war reparations through the United Nations compensation system. The payment process lasted more than thirty years and involved allocating a significant portion of the country’s oil revenues to compensate for war damages.

This precedent shows how the economic consequences of war can extend far beyond the end of military operations.

In the case of Iran, the risks would be even more severe. The country’s economy is already heavily weakened by years of sanctions, inflation, and structural crises. A large-scale war could further destroy economic and industrial infrastructure.

In such a scenario, reconstruction would require immense resources that the Iranian state may not be able to sustain.

If a country with a fragile economy were also forced to bear the burden of potential reparations or reconstruction costs, it might be compelled to rely almost exclusively on its natural resources, such as oil.

This would mean that a significant portion of national revenues would be directed toward covering the costs of war rather than improving living conditions for the population.

For ordinary citizens, this could translate into higher inflation, widespread unemployment, weakened public services, and a dramatic slowdown in economic development.

 

Divisions Within the Opposition and the Risk of New Authoritarianism

Alongside the geopolitical crisis and the threat of war, Iran also faces deep political fragmentation within the opposition.

In recent years, various political currents in exile have attempted to position themselves as alternatives to the current system. However, rather than building a broad and inclusive democratic front, these dynamics have often produced internal divisions.

Many activists and observers have expressed concern that, in the absence of a truly democratic and pluralistic project, new forms of authoritarianism could emerge even after the fall of the current system.

History shows that when politics is based on the personalization of power, the exclusion of minorities, and rhetoric of national purity, the risk of authoritarian drift—and even forms of political fascism—becomes real.

For a complex and plural country like Iran—home to diverse linguistic, cultural, and ethnic communities—any political project that ignores this diversity risks generating new tensions and new conflicts.

A democratic transition, instead, requires inclusion, pluralism, and respect for all components of society.

 

Conclusion: The Cost of War and the Dignity of a People

Looking at the contemporary history of the Middle East, one lesson appears clear: war rarely builds democracy.

It builds rubble, collective trauma, and generations marked by violence.

For the Iranian people—who have already endured decades of political repression, economic crisis, and international isolation—a large-scale war could turn into a national tragedy of historic proportions.

Bombs can destroy cities in a few hours, but rebuilding a society takes decades.

For this reason, the most important question is not only about military strategies or geopolitical balances.

It is about people.

It is about children growing up under the sound of sirens, families losing their homes, and doctors treating the wounded in the corridors of bombed hospitals.

The real question is simple—and at the same time devastating:

How much more must the Iranian people pay for wars and powers they did not choose?