Destitute and at war, Iran surrenders to a grim Persian New Year

TEHRAN — In typical times, Nowruz is a much-anticipated moment of hope throughout Iran.
Preparations for the Persian New Year begin days in advance; People are spring-cleaning their homes — “making a mess,” as the saying goes — or buying new clothes and furniture.
Tehran’s streets are filled with shoppers scouring the markets to buy flowers, dyed eggs and sweets for the “haft-sin” table, a traditional seven-piece meal symbolizing spring, renewal and prosperity.
A woman shops for flowers in Tehran ahead of the Persian New Year, or Nowruz, which begins on March 20, 2026.
(Vahid Salemi / Associated Press)
But these are not typical times.
It’s a somber Nowruz, with the war against Iran in its fourth week, soundtracked by the rumbles, booms and explosions of US-Israeli bombing and Iranian anti-aircraft defenses.
“Thousands of dead and new missing people every day… What is there to celebrate?” said Ali Pourasi, taxi services manager.
Instead of staying at home, he spent the first day of Nowruz, Friday, with his shih tzu, Michelle, in his office in West Tehran. Every time a blow came, he would run to the balcony to see where it hit. Michelle hid under a table.
“I’m too depressed to even deliver haft-sin in the office,” Pourasi said.
“My wife insisted we have one at home,” he added. “But I couldn’t do that here.”
Nowruz, celebrated by hundreds of millions of people around the world with 13 days of festivities, comes after a particularly painful year for Iranians.
Even as the country continues to experience new violence, there has yet to be a full explanation for the government’s brutal crackdown in January, when thousands of people protesting against the worsening economy were killed by security forces.
A woman shops in a market in northern Tehran before Nowruz, which means “new day”. Prices for many products are unusually high this year.
(Vahid Salemi / Associated Press)
The protests were rare public displays of discontent among a population enduring Western-imposed economic sanctions and a sclerotic, corruption-riddled economy that has plunged many of this oil-rich country of 93 million people into poverty.
Waiting in line for bread at a local bakery, Fatima looked sad as she explained that this Nevruz, which means “new day” in Persian, was even worse than the others. He had no money to buy clothes for his three children.
“I change my oldest’s clothes so that at least the little ones have something to eat,” she said. Like many interviewees, he did not reveal his full name to avoid government harassment.
Even entertaining guests was out of reach. The nuts and traditional sweets he would offer to guests are now sold for three times the price he normally pays. Iranian culture attaches great importance to hospitality, but current conditions make this difficult.
“We try not to visit family so we don’t have to reciprocate and keep them at home,” Fatemah said. “This Nowruz, I had to close our door to guests.”
Hossein, a nearby hazelnut vendor, wasn’t happy either. This Nowruz must have been the equivalent of Black Friday for him, but he estimated his business was down by half compared to last year.
Compounding the gravity of the moment was the fact that the internet outage made it nearly impossible for Iranians to reach relatives and friends abroad. Even local messaging platforms like Rubika and Bale only work intermittently.
A previous US-Israeli attack had exposed a living room in a residential building in Tehran on March 23, 2026.
(Vahid Salemi / Associated Press)
According to activist Golshan Fathi, there was little sign of Nowruz on Gandhi Street, a commercial street in northern Tehran.
In years past, she said in a post on He mentioned that bakeries sold desserts so tempting that almost no one survived the journey home.
Although Gandhi Street was relatively unscathed by US and Israeli bombardment, it felt as if “no one had brought life to it for years”. Fabric stores and cafes were closed, a silence that descended “like a heavy blanket.” Even the scent of vanilla near the candy store had faded.
“Gandhi feels like a place whose inhabitants are slowly drifting away. I walked and with every step I sank deeper into the memory – the voices of vendors, bargaining, laughter without reason,” Fathi wrote.
“Now it’s just me left and a street that reminds me of the past more than ever.”
This year, Nowruz should have been even more special as it coincided with Eid al-Fitr, the holiday that marks the end of the Muslim holy month of Ramadan. However, most public prayer events were canceled and only one large gathering was held at the Grand Mosalla Mosque.
Hasan, a butcher from Tehran who said that two-thirds of his income was deleted, said, “I am celebrating neither Nevruz nor Ramadan this year.”
People visit Behesht-e Zahra cemetery to commemorate their deceased relatives on the last day of Eid-al-Fitr, the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, on March 22, 2026 in Tehran.
(Fateme Bahrami / Anadolu / Getty Images)
“It’s simple: My prices are not affordable for the lower middle or even middle class these days,” he said, adding that even moneyed customers prefer chicken and fish to the more expensive beef and mutton.
Despite the situation, some insist on taking action. As every year, Tehran’s Tajrish Square was packed with stalls filled with hyacinths, garlic and sprouts; Some featured mini-pools containing tiny goldfish, traditional elements of haft-sin.
Most traders interviewed agreed that business was not as lively as it used to be, but local media still showed crowds braving the potential for bombings.
Mirza Mohammed, 70, was equally determined to continue his ritual of walking to the park near his home in West Tehran and chatting with his neighbors.
Of course, war news dominated discussions these days, but at least he was among his friends. He would even come here for Sizdah Bedar, the 13th and last day of Nowruz, when Iranians traditionally spend the day outside.
“We will have a picnic here…” he said and paused for a moment before completing his thought “if there is no explosion”.
Times staff writer Bulos reported from Beirut and special correspondent Mostaghim reported from Tehran.


