Afghan Refugees Caught in the Crossfire

From Kabul to Tehran and back, Afghan refugees find themselves trapped between the regime they fled and the wars they can’t escape

TEHRAN, Iran — Ferdows was sipping tea with his family in northern Tehran when war came crashing in again.

“It was a fun night. We had dinner and were having tea together,” the 22-year-old Afghan student recalled. “Around 1:30 a.m., I got up to go to my room. We were getting ready for bed when we heard the missile overhead.” An Israeli strike had just taken out a senior IRGC commander, barely 800 meters from the apartment where he was staying. “I was in shock. I couldn’t hear properly.”

Ten days ago, Israel launched a series of coordinated airstrikes deep into Iranian territory under Operation Rising Lion. Their stated targets: key military assets, nuclear sites, and individuals involved in Iran’s regional power projection—members of the IRGC, missile engineers, and even nuclear scientists. But as with any war, the damage has spilled far beyond the intended.

Caught in the crossfire were Iran’s civilians, and among them, the country’s long-persecuted Afghan population.

Iran is home to an estimated 3 to 5 million Afghans. Many, like Ferdows, fled Taliban rule after the U.S. withdrawal in 2021. Some were former soldiers from the defunct Afghan army; others were simply students, laborers, or families looking for safety and opportunity across the border.

But life in Iran has hardly been a refuge.

Afghans there endure persistent discrimination, limited access to formal work, and state suspicion that can turn dangerous overnight. Ferdows, who secured a student visa to study at a private university, endured daily harassment. “It didn’t matter that I was legally here to study,” he said. “They still treated me like a criminal.”

Now, in the fog of Israel’s military campaign, Afghan migrants have become scapegoats in a new and more dangerous way.

On June 19, hours before the Iranian regime shut down the internet, news spread on Persian social media: a young Afghan student had been arrested, accused of spying for Israel’s Mossad. Authorities claimed they had recovered schematics for drones and explosive devices. Within hours, rumors swirled of as many as 2,000 Afghan nationals under investigation or detention.

The claims were largely mocked online, but the fear they inspired was real. For Afghans already under pressure, it was a sign that they could be rounded up next.

On the third day of strikes, Ferdows made his decision. He packed his bags and began the journey back to Kabul—back to a country still under the control of the very regime he once fled.

“After I saw the news about Trump calling for an evacuation of Tehran, I knew this wasn’t going to end well,” he said from his family’s home in Kabul. The trip was a nightmare: packed buses, extortionate taxi fares, and hours stranded on the highway. “The bus that took us to Mashhad broke down six hours in. It had a 30-person capacity, and more than 50 people were jammed in.”

At the Islam Qala crossing on the Afghan border, a chaotic crowd had gathered. The gates had closed within hours of the first airstrikes. Somehow, Ferdows made it through.

But his future remains uncertain. With only two months left on his residency permit and nearly two years of education already completed, he doesn’t know if he’ll be allowed back.

For many Afghans, returning isn’t just difficult, it’s dangerous.

Sarah, another young Afghan who fled to Iran with her family after the Taliban takeover, has gone silent. Her father and brothers served in the Afghan army, and when Iranian authorities cut internet access, she lost contact with the outside world. “I was in touch with her right before the shutdown,” a friend told me. “She was terrified. She didn’t know whether to risk staying through the air raids or go back to Taliban territory, where her family would be targets.”

The Taliban, for its part, has shown little capacity or interest in helping returnees. Afghanistan’s economy remains in free fall, and displaced citizens face grim prospects. Ferdows couldn’t even access his bank account in Mashhad, as Iranian financial institutions clamped down on cash withdrawals amid wartime restrictions.

There is no safety net, no welcoming committee. Just a burned-out country and another war with no clear end in sight.

Afghanistan, still reeling from four decades of conflict, has become both the origin and the destination for human displacement. The American war may be over, but its effects echo across the region—in shattered dreams, lost educations, and families caught in permanent limbo.

For now, Ferdows is home. But he doesn’t know for how long, or what comes next.

“I just wanted to study,” he said. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

Middle East Uncovered is powered by Ideas Beyond Borders. The views expressed in Middle East Uncovered are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of Ideas Beyond Borders.