Agarak, Armenia – The remote, sun-scorched Agarak border crossing between Armenia and Iran has become a gateway for hundreds fleeing the growing conflict between Israel and Iran.
Surrounded by barren, rocky mountains under a blazing sun, the border offers no comfort – just a passage to what many hope will be temporary safety.
A week into the escalating war, a steady stream of families, young couples, and solo travellers continue to arrive in Agarak. Most are Iranian citizens with residency abroad, many returning to countries like Austria, Australia, and Germany after what was meant to be summer holidays.
Their plans were shattered on 13 June, when Israel launched surprise strikes on Iran’s nuclear and military infrastructure, igniting a conflict that has since claimed hundreds of lives.
At the border, scenes of tension and exhaustion unfold by the hour. A woman, half her head shaved in a bold style, cradles her baby in the heat while her husband haggles with Armenian taxi drivers. Nearby, a young family with a boy no older than six waits with bags packed, bound for Austria.
The Israeli strikes were the spark, but fear is now the fuel. “Today I saw one site where the bombing happened,” said a man from Tabriz, in Iran’s northwest, standing beside a minivan with his child. “All the people are scared, every place is dangerous. It’s not normal.”
The toll is mounting. According to the Washington-based Human Rights Activists News Agency (HRANA), at least 657 people have been killed in Iran, including civilians.
Iran’s response—retaliatory missile attacks on Israeli cities—has so far killed 24 people, further inflaming tensions and triggering international alarm.
Israel claims to have established air superiority over Tehran, urging residents to evacuate certain districts. In the capital, traffic jams stretch for kilometres as millions consider leaving the city.
Several people interviewed at Agarak said their drive from Tehran took over 12 hours. Most had heard but not seen the strikes.
“It was troubling there. Every night, attacks from Israel,” said a young Afghan man carrying a single suitcase. “I just escaped by a very hard way. There were no flights, no other way.”
He refused to be named, but his voice trembled as he described sleepless nights amid the blasts. “People who have somewhere to go, they are leaving,” he said. “Every night is like attacking. People cannot sleep. The situation is not good at all.”
For some, the shock of what they saw lingers in silence. A young woman with a white headscarf and heavy false lashes said she was returning to Australia.
“I saw something that is very hard. I don’t want to talk about it,” she whispered as she stepped into a shared car heading to Yerevan. “Someone comes and attacks your country – would you feel normal?”
Despite the chaos, not all travellers at Agarak were fleeing Iran. Some were returning. One man, Ali Ansaye, who had been vacationing in Armenia, was resolute as he crossed back into Iran with his wife and children. “I have no concerns, and I am not scared at all,” he said. “If I am supposed to die, I will die in my country.”
Ansaye blamed Israel for regional instability. “Israel is harassing the entire world – Gaza, Lebanon and other countries. How can such a small country have nuclear weapons?” he asked angrily.
“Based on which law can this country have a bomb, and Iran, which has only focused on peaceful nuclear energy and not a bomb, cannot?”
Israel, while never officially confirming its nuclear capabilities, is widely believed to possess them. Iranian leaders and their allies frequently cite this in arguments against Western double standards in non-proliferation policy.
On the Israeli side, some government ministers have publicly hinted that the ongoing campaign could lead to regime change in Iran. But Iranian citizens like Javad, who had spent the summer in Sabzevar and was now returning to Germany, were dismissive of such notions.
“Israel has no chance. Israel is not a friend for us, it’s an enemy,” he said. “Israel cannot come to our home to help us. Israel needs to change something for itself, not for us.”
Back in Tehran, the uncertainty has upended daily life. Many who remain in the capital face shortages, electricity disruptions, and constant fear of further attacks. Hospitals are overwhelmed, and mobile internet is intermittent in parts of the city, contributing to the confusion.
Agarak has thus become more than just a border checkpoint; it is now a stage for the personal dramas of war – stories of flight, fear, resilience, and, for some, defiance.
Vehicles filled with luggage and children arrive hourly. Taxi drivers, now busy with business, quote steep prices to drive people north. Some migrants continue on to Yerevan, while others await flights to Europe from Zvartnots International Airport.
Armenian authorities have not yet reported an official count of those crossing, but unofficial estimates suggest several thousand have arrived in recent days. The government has said it is monitoring the situation closely and is prepared to accommodate transiting individuals with valid travel documents.
While some express hope that the fighting will end quickly, few believe things will return to normal anytime soon. International efforts to broker a ceasefire have so far failed, with both Israel and Iran refusing to stand down.
For now, the road out of Iran remains open at Agarak, and every hour, more people are making the arduous journey to the border.
One Iranian father, who had travelled alone with his son, summed up the mood: “We just want peace, but it is far from us now.”