The War Inside the Mind
Ali’s mind is haunted by the echoes of conflict. A door slamming or a spoon clattering on a plate can send him into a sudden panic. The truce has not eased his mental burden. “Prior to the war, I had no worries,” he reflects. “Now, even the quietest noise triggers a violent reaction in my brain.” At just 15, Ali understands how the cacophony of US and Israeli airstrikes has infiltrated his psyche. The sound of explosions, the reverberations of blasts, and the hum of fighter jets overhead set off an involuntary startle response. “These noises leave a lasting mark,” he says. “They can severely affect the mind, lingering long after the battle has ended.”
A Generation in Turmoil
Over 20% of Iran’s population, nearly 20.4 million children under 14, now live in a world transformed by conflict. Ali’s experience mirrors a psychological condition known as hyperarousal, often an early sign of post-traumatic stress disorder. He observes his parents’ reactions, seeking comfort in familiar routines but finding none. His father has lost his job, while his mother remains perpetually anxious. “Whenever jets pass above, she becomes overwhelmed with fear,” he explains. “I, too, am afraid. I’ve lost contact with my friends. I should be studying, preparing for a future of independence, not living in constant dread of bombs and endless worries.”
Voice from the Ground
At a human rights center in Tehran, Aysha – a name used to protect her identity – guides a distraught mother over the phone. “Try the methods I shared to create a calm space for him,” she advises. “Engage him with play, and if that fails, bring him here.” Aysha notes that the center is flooded with calls and visits from worried parents. “We see disrupted sleep, nightmares, difficulty focusing, and even outbursts of aggression,” she says. “Raising a child is already a challenge, but when the child might be killed in protests or war, it feels like a cruel fate.”
Children as Frontline Soldiers
The Iranian regime has actively enlisted minors in its military campaigns. Under security laws, children under 15 can be recruited, violating international standards. Parents are urged to send their sons to checkpoints as part of the Basij volunteer militia, a state-backed group. A regime official once told families: “Do you want your son to grow into a man? Let him feel heroic on the battlefield, commanding the fight. Mothers and fathers, take your children to the roadblocks at night. These children will become warriors.” For 11-year-old Alireza Jafari, this call to duty meant tragedy. He was killed by a drone strike while assisting his father at a checkpoint in Tehran on 29 March. His mother, Sadaf Monfared, recalled that the boy expressed a desire to “become a martyr” before his death.
Amnesty International has condemned the recruitment of children as a “grave violation of international humanitarian law,” labeling it a war crime. The war has not only reshaped the lives of Iranian youth but also forced them into roles they were never meant to assume. With schools closed and streets monitored by militias, families retreat into homes, waiting for the ceasefire to last. The trauma of war, however, will not fade with the silence of bombs.
