TEHRAN − Iranians woke up to a world on March 1 that for the best part of four decades they dared not hope for: one without the Islamic Republic’s Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei.
The atmosphere in Tehran was a strange combination of quiet, terror, hidden joy and official mourning, said Ali, 42, a shopkeeper. He said that − unusual for car-clogged Tehran − there was very little traffic on the roads.
Khamenei, the highest authority in Iran’s regime and a guardian of its rigid theocratic and social doctrine for 36 years, was killed in U.S. and Israel airstrikes. His death, and the attacks, have launched Iran into a new era of uncertainty. The process to choose his successor has started. It’s not clear how, or when, the conflict ends.
USA TODAY worked with a vetted longtime contributor to report from the streets of the Persian capital, known as one of the most censored countries in the world, according to the Committee to Protect Journalists. The people interviewed for this dispatch are being identified by first name only to safeguard their security.
The American and Israeli attack on Feb. 28 started early, around 8:15 in the morning local time. It was a weekend, and people in Iran were just starting their workweek, which runs Saturday to Thursday. The airstrikes drove frightened residents into the streets. Parents hurried back to the schools where they had just left their children.
“When Trump said help was on the way, all of us felt joy and hope. But as time dragged on, we grew worried that perhaps the Islamic Republic was striking a deal,” said Somayeh, 25, an architecture student.
As news of the strikes kept coming, the student said people would go near the window and listen for “the sound of explosions or bombs.”
The next day, most shops were closed, including Ali’s. Israel’s air force had launched a new wave of strikes across Iran on March 1, and Iran’s military responded by firing missiles into Israel, the United Arab Emirates, Qatar, Bahrain and Kuwait.
People who could were trying to stay home and indoors. Explosions could be heard from time to time. Thick black smoke rose from parts of the city.
“The world has become a better place. We have been waiting for this moment for years,” Reza said. “We hope this is the end of the regime.”
But it isn’t that simple.
Iran’s interim leadership has so far made it clear it intends to dig in and stay the course. President Donald Trump has called the Iranian people to rise up against the regime. It’s not clear whether they will, perhaps scarred by the brutal crackdown by authorities in January that saw an estimated 5,000 anti-government protesters killed by Iranian security forces, an Iranian official told Reuters in January. Others have put the death toll far higher.
The regime’s unpopularity is steadily on the rise, a survey in November 2025 found. Across provinces, rural and urban areas, age groups and gender, the majority of respondents said they didn’t want to live under the theocracy that came to power with the 1979 Islamic Revolution, according to the Group for Analyzing and Measuring Attitudes in Iran, an independent research foundation registered in the Netherlands.
Reza and other Iranians who have long opposed Iran’s government are equal parts ecstatic and frightened at the new reality they have found themselves in as a result of Trump and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu‘s insistence that Iran will never be allowed to advance its nuclear program.
They fear revenge from the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps military, police and security personnel, whose reach into everyday life in Iran is considerable. But they also fear chaos. The smell of smoke in the capital is overpowering. There are long lines for gasoline and bread. The bombings across the country haven’t stopped.
At least 201 people have been killed in airstrikes in Iran and 747 injured since the launch of the operation, according to the Iranian Red Crescent. At least 153 people, including children, were killed in a single reported missile strike that hit a school in southern Iran on Feb. 28, according to Iranian officials. USA TODAY could not independently verify those figures. Three U.S. service members have been killed in Epic Fury, the Pentagon’s name for the operation.
Ehsan, 32, who works in a bank in Tehran, said that when he first became aware of the U.S. and Israeli attack on the compound in Tehran where Khamenei worked, lived and, ultimately, died, his whole body started shaking with excitement. He was talking with his parents on the phone when it, and the internet, suddenly cut out.
“It was a time of excitement, fear and hope all at once,” he said.
Hours later, when it emerged that Khamenei had in fact been killed, Ehsan ran to the roof of his building and cried with happiness. He said he could hear clapping, singing and the phrase “Javid Shah” − “Long live the Shah,” a reference to the ousted monarch of Iran − shouted from up high. Everywhere came the sounds of celebration.
USA TODAY independently received video and independently verified the images from Tehran.
“My mother, my brother, my father, and I jumped for joy like our favorite football team had just scored,“ said Somayeh, the university student, watching the streets from the window. People cheered and yelled, “‘Scream for Seyyed Ali!’ (Seyyed Ali is Khamenei’s name).
“Someone even put a speaker in their window and played blasted happy music,” Ehsan said. “But we also had a lump in our throats. We were afraid it might be a lie. We didn’t want to believe it in case it turned out to not be true.”
Ehsan may have good reason to be concerned.
The day after the start of the assault on Iran, most of the activity on the streets of Tehran was pockets of pro-government rallies and mourning the supreme leader’s death. The night before, hundreds of miles away in Galleh Dar, a town in rural southwestern Iran, flames rose from a roundabout and onlookers cheered as crowds toppled a monument dedicated to the Islamic Republic’s founder, Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini.
But in Tehran, the people on the streets were in mourning. Some were holding photos of Khamenei and appeared to be crying real tears. And Trump, in an interview with The Atlantic magazine, said he has agreed to talk to the Iranians.
Kim Hjelmgaard reported from London.
A USA TODAY freelancer reported from Tehran, his name withheld for security reasons.