Suspected Israeli airstrikes targeted naval assets in Latakia port on Monday, according to the Times of Israel. Meanwhile, Hezbollah-affiliated Al-Manar TV reported three explosions near the Sayyida Zaynab neighborhood of Damascus, an area that used to be frequented by Iran's Revolutionary Guard and Hezbollah officials for meetings.
Mahmoud looks spent; he’s 45 but looks older. Grey-haired, unshaven, bespectacled — financial anxiety has worn him out. He owns no home, holds no significant assets and dares not think about the future. "Let’s make it to tomorrow is our motto," he says.
Official figures put Iran’s annual inflation rate at around 34 percent. Unofficial estimates are higher. Prices are soaring. The currency is in free fall: 72,000 tomans buys one US dollar. The exchange rate impacts nearly all goods and services but its psychological effects defy metrics.
For over five years, Iranians have been enduring severe economic pressure. In 2019, inflation jumped from 10% to over 50%, with food prices soaring over 85%. Millions of people have been thrust below the poverty line—almost one in three, according to government officials.
The story of Mahmoud, whose full name is being withheld for his safety, mirrors that of untold numbers of hard-working but frustrated Iranians whose ambitions have been dashed by the moribund economy.
In 2019, Mahmoud worked in the marketing department of an Iranian app store. He earned 7 million tomans a month ($540 back then), almost half of which he paid as rent for a modest apartment in Tehran. He tried to save a little every month.
That summer, Donald Trump’s “maximum pressure” campaign began to bite. Life was evidently costing more. Many Iranians scrambled to convert their meager savings into more stable assets—gold, land, a small apartment on the outskirts of larger cities, a vehicle even.
Mahmoud had 35 million tomans in the bank. He could buy 2,700 dollars. But then his employer offered to match his savings with a loan. He now had enough to purchase a domestically assembled foreign car or a small apartment outside Tehran. He felt he had to ask around and make an informed decision. That 70 million tomans was all he had.
“I never thought an apartment I had viewed and could almost afford would cost almost three times as much a few weeks later,” Mahmoud recalls. The hesitation had proven costly.
Mahmoud had flashbacks of a similar blow six years prior. During yet another inflationary spike in 2013, Mahmoud’s father sold his home to buy a larger one. By the time the deal was closed, the money he had received could not buy the property he had just sold, let alone a better one.
“That was a big chunk of what dad had gathered in a lifetime. Gone, vanished in a month,” Mahmoud recalls with pain. “I never thought it would happen to me. I was sure I could move fast because I wasn’t selling a house. I had cash.”
He was indeed fast. Just not fast enough. The tiny apartment he could just about afford was now firmly out of reach. And this was not even in Tehran. It was more than 10 miles outside the capital—in a monstrous assembly of shoddy blocks built by the government.
The Mehr Housing Project was intended to provide affordable housing for low-income families. But it became yet another money-making machine for well-placed speculators who purchased them in bulk and rented them to the very people the project was meant to serve.
Mahmoud, priced out of a property he would have sneered at a few years prior, decided to invest his fast-dwindling savings in stocks. The company he worked for offered shares at a discounted price. It was aiming to go public the following year, promising good returns.
Five years later, the company is still not listed.
“My investment has grown but not much,” Mahmoud laments. “Had I bought a car instead, it would be double what my shares are worth today. And I’m reluctant to sell it now, fearing the company going public the minute I cash out.”
Mahmoud has had to move three times in the past five years, each time to a less pleasant neighbourhood. He earns four times what he earned in 2019. But the dollar, a rough indicator of cost of living in Iran, is more than five times what it was then. He feels---and he is, in real terms---considerably poorer.
"My rent was half my salary then. Now it's two-thirds," Mahmoud says, his voice rising and shaking. "We earn in tomans and spend in dollars. A decent apartment in a decent neighborhood in Tehran costs around $300,000 dollars. That's comparable to prices in the US. It's just that our wages are not even a tenth of theirs."
Inflation in Iran shows no sign of abating. Low productivity, mismanagement, and long-lasting US-led sanctions have created chronic inflation that makes the vast majority of Iranians poorer by the year, if not month.
“You know the so-called five stages of grief, right? Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance,” Mahmoud says with a bitter smile. “Well, most people I know are somewhere between four and five. And they all earn well above average.”
Some 500 Iranian citizens are at Syria's Latakia Airport, waiting for a flight to return to Iran, ILNA news agency reported.
The report said some of these individuals are "pilgrims" who traveled to Syria with unauthorized tour groups.
Hormatollah Rafiei, the head of the Travel Agencies Association, said efforts are under way to facilitate the return of Iranian pilgrims currently at the shrines of "Zaynab" and "Ruqayyah" in Damascus.
He expressed hope that Iranian flights will receive permission to land in Damascus.
US National Security Advisor Jake Sullivan will travel to Israel later this week to discuss developments in Syria, Lebanon, and Iran, National Security Council spokesperson Sean Savett said in a statement.
Sullivan’s trip is aimed at advancing Gaza ceasefire talks and addressing regional security concerns, according to the statement.
NATO chief Mark Rutte said on Monday said Iran and Russia "proved to be unreliable partners, abandoning Assad when he ceased to be of use to them."
He also said that Tehran and Moscow were "the main backers of the Assad regime, and they share the responsibility for the crimes committed against the Syrian people."
Rainfall across 29 Iranian provinces has dropped by nearly a third since October, according to the Iran Meteorological Organization, as the country continues to struggle with water scarcity.
The country has experienced an overall rainfall reduction of 31.9% during this period, with the southern provinces of Sistan-Baluchestan and Hormozgan seeing the most dramatic declines at nearly 90% and just over three-quarters, respectively.
Mansour Shishehforoush, the Director General of Crisis Management for Isfahan Province, highlighted the severity of the situation earlier this year.
"Isfahan has a dry and semi-dry climate, and over 80% of its area is experiencing drought conditions," he said in July, noting that water tankers were being used to supply over 300 villages. Isfahan has since recorded a 68% reduction in autumn rainfall.
Despite the alarming trends, some regions have bucked the pattern. South Khorasan and Mazandaran have reported slight increases in rainfall, rising by 1.1% and 14.3%, respectively. These exceptions provide little relief, as other provinces, including Golestan and Gilan in the north, have experienced reductions of 16.6% and 7.8%, exacerbating the broader drought.
Sadegh Ziaeian, head of the National Center for Weather Forecasting and Crisis Management, flagged an additional concern: reduced water inflow into the Caspian Sea from neighboring countries, contributing to a decline in the sea's water level.
The rainfall deficit follows a year of weather extremes, including heavy flooding earlier in central and southeastern regions. These floods caused extensive damage, destroying homes and severing transport routes, highlighting the volatility of Iran's climate and the challenges it poses for crisis management.
