As the war between Israel and Iran enters its fifth day, U.S. President Donald Trump, in a surprising move—given that his country is not directly involved in the war—issued an immediate evacuation warning to the residents of the Iranian capital, Tehran. In doing so, he borrowed the task of issuing warnings and evacuation orders from Israeli military spokesperson Avichay Adraee, a familiar name to the Lebanese.
“Everything related to Iran seems different from what relates to Lebanon, even the warnings,” my Iranian friend said to me sarcastically. “We get threatened by Trump himself, while you’re threatened by a regular officer in the Israeli army,” despite the fact that Adraee had already warned residents of Tehran’s Zone 3 to evacuate a day before Trump’s warning.
Despite the shock Trump’s warning caused, Iranian authorities issued no kind of reassurance to calm their citizens, nor did they announce any evacuation plan or guidance. All the terrified public heard was more empty heroic rhetoric. Some officials even advised people to stay in their homes, insisting that Trump wouldn’t dare do anything.
But who do Iranians believe in a situation like this? Like us, they take Israeli media communications quite seriously. Upon hearing the first evacuation order from an Israeli officer who speaks Farsi, along with Adraee’s warnings, the entire threatened area emptied of its residents, even though the authorities tried to convince people that it was merely psychological warfare. Some security officials even tried to obstruct the flow of people fleeing, so as not to reflect poorly on the regime. “Even fear is forbidden here. They want us to be legendary heroes by force, and we have no prior experience with war,” my friend added.
She continued: “Yes, our country fought an eight-year war with Iraq, but the frontlines were very far from Tehran. When the ‘War of the Cities’ started, Iraqi planes would arrive over Tehran exhausted, barely able to drop their loads randomly before returning. Besides, Iraqi pilots kept to very high altitudes to avoid ground-based air defenses.”
“This war is pure hellish noise,” says Shahram, a political writer and journalist who spent ten years of his life in Evin Prison, describing the atmosphere of war in Tehran. Regarding evacuation, he states: “I’m staying. My family and I haven’t left, and we won’t leave.” His wife adds with gentle sarcasm: “Leaving isn’t even an option, we’re trapped. There are at least 8 million Tehranis evacuating their homes right now. And you know Tehran, it’s a congested city even without war.”
Despite the panic caused by Trump’s warning, many families, like Shahram’s, decided to remain in their homes. But the majority of Tehran’s residents opted to evacuate immediately. Photos and videos circulating on social media after the alert show Tehran transformed into a giant metallic mass in motion. Every street, square, bridge, and alley was packed with stalled vehicles, with traffic jams shutting down every exit and entry point. Neither the road network nor the various modes of transportation could handle the massive crowds trying to flee. Some families even chose to leave on foot…
“Can you imagine people fleeing on foot—children, the sick, the elderly—across sprawling, rough, wide Tehran, just to reach safety?” Mitra tells me through tears, asking how we in Beirut used to deal with Adraee’s warnings.
Homes in Tehran are now almost empty, but people remain stuck in the streets, flowing from and toward every direction. Individuals and families are carrying whatever is light but valuable. Some head back to their hometowns or regions of origin, while others flee to the villages surrounding Tehran—such as Lavasan, Aftab, Asadabad, Afjeh, Rendan, Shokrab, and Ahar—or toward the city of Karaj, or even to the Mazandaran region in the north.
Tehran is the most densely populated city in Iran. It became the capital under the Qajar dynasty, which ruled Iran before the Pahlavis. According to the latest statistics, it has a nighttime population of 10 million people, with more than half that number commuting in during the day. It is the world’s largest Persian-speaking city and, after Istanbul, the second largest Turkish-speaking city. Administratively, Tehran is divided into 22 districts and has a rugged geography: its northern parts lie on the slopes of the Alborz Mountains, descending into the plains to the south.
Its rugged terrain once offered residents safe hiding places from invaders. One interpretation of the name “Tehran” even means “under ground.” But today, the city has lost all sense of shelter. It lacks bunkers or shelters to protect its people from the new invaders, something acknowledged by the head of the City Council, Mehdi Chamran, who urged residents at the start of the attacks to seek refuge in the metro tunnels.
Tehran is famous for housing the longest avenue in the Middle East, an avenue referred to by revolutionaries as “Vali Asr,” by monarchists as “Pahlavi,” and by nationalists as “Mossadegh.” The city is also home to the Golestan, Shahryar, and Niavaran palaces, and to the Russian embassy where the secretive “Tehran Conference” took place in 1943 between Churchill, Roosevelt, and Stalin. Another landmark is the Azadi Tower, formerly known as Shahyad, designed by architect Hossein Amanat, who now lives in Canada after fleeing the rule of the clerics.
But today, Tehran’s most infamous landmark is Evin Prison, behind whose walls some of the country’s most prominent thinkers and dissidents are held. Its streets have witnessed more revolutions than perhaps any other modern city—from the Constitutional Revolution to the women-led uprising “Zan, Zendegi, Azadi” (“Woman, Life, Freedom”) that erupted after the killing of the young Kurdish woman Mahsa Amini. For five days now, those same streets have been the site of a massacre against civilians, culminating in Trump’s evacuation order.
Yet despite the fear this order sparked, the concept of evacuating Tehran is not new to its residents. The Iranian state itself has floated the idea of evacuating the capital multiple times, albeit not due to war.
Tehran suffers from deep, intractable crises that can no longer be contained: rampant population growth due to constant internal migration, severe pollution, and above all, the ever-present fear of a major earthquake.
Geological surveys show that Tehran sits atop numerous fault lines, making it highly vulnerable to natural disasters, especially earthquakes. But the neglect of this risk has led real estate developers to build neighborhoods, roads, and bridges directly over known seismic faults.
The possibility of a devastating earthquake has become a real and growing concern for Tehranis, especially in the last decade, following reports of increasing seismic activity. Some experts warn that a major earthquake exceeding 8.0 on the Richter scale could hit the city.
This anxiety is compounded by the perceived incompetence of the Tehran Municipality, which locals say is “incapable of disaster management.” Many believe that in the event of chaos, whether from an earthquake or any other crisis, the number of people killed in stampedes could surpass those killed by the disaster itself.
Another ongoing issue is the debate over relocating the capital. Various governments have proposed moving Iran’s administrative center to ease Tehran’s over-centralization and alleviate its security vulnerabilities, traffic congestion, and pollution. But parliament has repeatedly opposed the move, citing the massive budget it would require, funds that are currently unavailable.
In the last decade, Tehran’s population has grown exponentially. Greater Tehran has expanded to the brink of collapse, and its public services have deteriorated further. The city has effectively become two Tehrans: a wealthy north with ample services, green spaces, and entertainment options, and a poorer south plagued by pollution, traffic jams, and disease.
Trump’s order for immediate evacuation added yet more pressure on the Islamic regime, which is already struggling with its war response both logistically and militarily. The moment revealed the hollowness of the image it had long projected—of strength and dominance both domestically and abroad.
Meanwhile, 10 million people wander the roads, not knowing where to go, whom to turn to, or what their fate will be.
