From Ceasefire to Turmoil: The Crisis of ‘Neither War nor Peace’ in Iran after the 12-Day War with Israel, through the Lens of Tolstoy’s War and Peace H. Soleimani ۱۴۰۴/۰۵/۱۴ Drawing on Tolstoy’s War and Peace, this article examines Iran’s ‘neither war nor peace’ condition after the 12-day war with Israel, its human and economic consequences, and the continuing psychological toll. H. Soleimani – In the history of literature, few works match the depth of Leo Tolstoy’s novel War and Peace: a novel that, beyond being a historical story, offers a philosophical perspective on conflict, human suffering, the role of the masses in history and the true meaning of peace. Tolstoy believed that history is shaped not by leaders, but by the accumulation of people’s decisions, fears and hopes. Now, in a comparable and perhaps more horrifying situation, the Islamic Republic of Iran, following the 12-day war with Israel, has entered a phase in which no overt war is under way, yet no lasting peace has been established. This state of ‘neither war nor peace’, accompanied by economic disruption, social and emotional blows, psychological distrust and an inability to rebuild structures, is in its own way reminiscent of the philosophical limbo at the end of Tolstoy’s novel: a limbo that wears down the human spirit more than any battlefield. 1. What does Tolstoy say? Wars that never end In the novel’s second epilogue, Tolstoy, criticising the theory of ‘great men who make history’, writes that wars are not started by Napoleon and the Tsar, but by public fears and ignorance. He stresses that no commander or leader can direct history without popular structures, public trust and an intellectual infrastructure behind them. In the first epilogue, too, characters such as Pierre and Natasha, having lived through the war, are neither heroes nor victors. All that remains to them is the experience of suffering, inner growth and acceptance of loss. This is a theme that has taken an ever firmer hold of Iranian society today: a weary, uncertain nation in search of psychological security. As Albert Camus writes in The Myth of Sisyphus: ‘Faced with the absurd, a person either gives in or creates meaning.’ And today, Iran stands on the threshold of this very choice. 2. The 12-day war: an attack without defence, an end without a resolution In a lightning attack, Israel targeted a range of sensitive nuclear, missile, cyber and scientific facilities belonging to the Islamic Republic of Iran over 12 days. In this operation, which involved simultaneous air strikes, cyberattacks and assassinations, at least 30 military commanders and nine regime nuclear scientists were killed. No formal resolution, ceasefire agreement or direct talks followed the conflict. Like Napoleon’s attack on Russia in 1805, this battle brought the Iranian regime to its knees not militarily, but psychologically and economically. The damage to the facilities and areas under attack was caused not only by the absence of passive defence, but also by the lack of shelters, an information system and public preparedness. 3. Civil defence and a population left without shelter: when civilians are on the battlefield The war with Iraq ended, but the government responsible for war and peace never established a comprehensive network of urban shelters, a warning system or an emergency evacuation plan in Iran. In the recent attack, a number of civilians were killed not in military zones, but beside sensitive sites or in densely populated, undefended areas. This lack of preparedness is precisely what Tolstoy also depicts in War and Peace: people fleeing without purpose or direction, with no confidence in what tomorrow will bring. And this lack of shelter is not merely a failure of management, but a moral betrayal by the Islamic Republic and its rulers: a betrayal of citizens left defenceless, like autumn leaves in the winds of politics. 4. The economic effects of war: from bounced cheques to rising prices for life’s necessities One tangible example of the consequences of the war was the disruption, lasting several days, to the systems of Bank Sepah, Pasargad Bank and other banks. Millions of bank accounts, the system for guaranteed cheques, government payments and commercial contracts collapsed. Moreover, as confidence in the future declined, the market went into shock: people bought less, investment ground to a halt, the prices of basic goods rose suddenly, and foreign trade remained suspended. All this happened even though no missile had landed in the market. But the market, like human life, feeds on fear, and in times of ‘uncertainty’, the economy too becomes paralysed. The economy is a silent wound, inflicted by bullets of distrust. 5. Psychological blows, fear and the collective psyche: a war that continues within people According to reports by independent organisations, a high percentage of people, particularly children and older people, have developed symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Nightmares, fear of loud noises, general restlessness and psychological uncertainty have made Iran’s situation resemble the state of ‘sad peace’ that Tolstoy describes at the end of his novel. He writes: ‘People who return from war are always fighting another battle within themselves.’ And Iranians are now caught up in a conflict with neither a clear enemy nor a definite end; the only certainty is the fear that disaster may strike again. In such circumstances, art can offer refuge: poetry, music, painting and storytelling are ways to heal the collective psyche. Artists are the guardians of historical memory; today, more than ever, they must be the voice of the people. 6. The ‘Neither War nor Peace’ State: Historical Turmoil The war is not over, but its flames have been temporarily extinguished. Peace has not begun, but people imagine that perhaps things cannot get any worse. This is the limbo that Tolstoy, in War and Peace, describes as ‘doubt between meaning and meaninglessness’. Meanwhile, the Islamic Republic has demanded compensation before returning to nuclear and missile negotiations with the United States. Israel considers itself victorious, but its threats have not ended. The people, entrepreneurs, doctors, teachers, drivers and workers—all are waiting, all are worried, all are uncertain… This state of ‘neither war nor peace’ is more dangerous than war itself, because it is more deeply rooted, more uncertain and more psychologically exhausting. Conclusion and Recommendations If we look at the crisis through Tolstoy’s eyes, the solution lies neither in military victory nor in political noise, but in rebuilding the foundations of public trust, healing the collective psyche, and strengthening the means of urban and economic defence. Tolstoy warns: ‘War ends when people find peace within themselves.’ Today, Iran needs psychological shelter more than bombs and missiles: it needs institutions that give people hope for the future, mechanisms that rescue the market from uncertainty, and a peace established not just in an agreement, but in the minds and lives of its citizens. In a turbulent world, full of myth-making, warmongering and delusions of power, perhaps the greatest revolutionary act is to accept that peace is not a political decision; it is a human choice. But this is more than a beautiful slogan. If we fail to understand it, if we fall prey to the propaganda of those hungry for power, if we justify war in the name of ‘national pride’ or ‘manufactured security’, we will not only destroy our present, but also bury our children’s future—children who may one day ask: Why didn’t you speak out? Why didn’t you resist? Why were you deceived? In this very novel, Tolstoy stresses that no war has winners or heroes. For even the side that has ‘won’ has, in reality, lost a great deal! Every war leaves silent survivors on all sides, bearing wounds that burn through generations. We must not be deceived by slogans and manufactured enemies; we must remember that war speaks only the language of death. Let us learn from the history of wars—from centuries of destruction, bloodshed, displacement and the ruin of nations. Let us learn that ‘the past is a lamp lighting the way to the future’. If we refuse to use that lamp, we will lose our way in the dark. Today, more than ever, we must decide: do we want to stand with life, or surrender to a slow death? Do we want to build the future with awareness and hope, or hand everything over through indifference and fear? Peace must begin within; otherwise, war will consume us from without. Source: https://srouzbeh.com/en/posts/archive-d2a22725-f2ec-fda4-cb1e-cede23ae28e7 Please credit the author and link to this edition.