'There is no winner in war:' Iranian Canadians wary of what comes next after Soleimani's killing

On the night Iranian Gen. Qassem Soleimani was killed, Parham Alibolandi's cousin wanted to go home. He had just moved to Canada with his family and had a hard time letting go of his life in Iran. So Alibolandi was heading to his house to support him.

Not far away, Bita Pejam was getting ready for bed. She had plans to travel the next day and was looking forward to calling it a day. But rest did not come easily.

For these two London, Ont.-based students, the death of this larger-than-life, controversial figure over 9,000 kilometres away, felt like more than just another development in a history of tense U.S.- Iran relations. 

"Whether you think Soleimani was good or bad, it doesn't matter," Alibolandi said in an interview. "Right now, when I talk to my friends in Iran, they say they really feel it, the possibility of war." 

"What will it mean for my family that's there? What will it mean for the economy of the nation? For the standard of living? For the safety of the citizens?", Pejam questioned.

It's a familiar worry for many Iranians experiencing economic hardship since the United States restored sanctions after withdrawing from the 2015 nuclear deal. More recently, nationwide protests broke out in November over a steep hike in fuel prices. More than 200 protesters were killed and thousands more detained, according to U.N human rights monitors.

But that litany of unanswered questions is echoing right across the Iranian community here now more than ever. Pejam helps run Western University's Persian Association and says many have reached out on social media or group chats to help make sense of the recent escalation. 

"They want to talk about this, they want a perspective," she said. "When people want to talk, there is always someone there. There is a lot of support in the community." 

According to 2016 census data, there are over 3,000 people in London whose mother tongue is an Iranian dialect; many already familiar with the toll of war. Elders would have experienced the Islamic Revolution of 1979 as adults or would have been drafted to serve in the subsequent Iran/Iraq war. 

"The most terrifying and ultimately saddest part of anything like this is that innocent people get drawn into it — the lower class, the working class people," Pejam said. "I hope nothing happens to my family or anyone else's family."

"There is no winner in war, Alibolandi said repeatedly during an interview. "My father was drafted and we talk all the time. How far more advanced would Iran be if we did not have to fight that war? How many lives we would not have lost?"

Alibolandi moved to Canada only five years ago, and the dangers of these political tensions feel like a hair's breadth away.  

"I stop and think about what if this was five years ago. What if I was in Iran? You never know what safety means until you are being threatened," he reflected. 

The two students both have extended family in the country and they remain watchful of the decisions being made in the highest offices in the world, waiting to see with bated breaths if their grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, former playmates will be thrust into armed conflict.

At the same time, they're watching, with a certain perplexity, the trends unfolding on social media. Teens on TikTok joking about how they would avoid a military draft.

"I don't think war is very funny," Pejam said. "When people are losing their family members and living in horrible conditions, I don't think anybody wants to dismiss that. But I think when it's so far away, people forget that it happens." 

It's a certain privilege unthinkable for people in the Iranian-Canadian community; people like Pejam and Alibolandi and his cousin, who just last week dreamed of returning to his home. None are certain about what happens next. But for a Diaspora so familiar with the scars of war, it's a haunting wait.