TEHRAN – If you were to ask Iranians who played the most important roles during Iran's fight against the aggression of Israel and its Western allies back in June, many would likely name the men who worked on missile launchers, operated air defense systems, or pursued Mossad agents.

A gallery I visited in Tehran, a city at the heart of the recent conflict, showcased artworks, handicrafts, and numerous letters created for or addressed to these individuals. People from diverse backgrounds and ages expressed their gratitude through Tehran's municipality.

"This gallery contains items we collected after announcing a call for people to submit anything they wanted the Armed Forces to see or read," explained Saeedeh Habibifard, one of the gallery's main organizers. As the director of Hanil, an NGO focused on addressing challenges and issues faced by women in society and the family, Habibifard leveraged her close connections with female networks across Tehran to help organize the event. "A significant portion of our pieces were created by children. The more sophisticated artworks were mostly made by women, and our letters also predominantly came from women and children, who were not on the front lines during the recent conflict," she explained. 

The gallery clearly reflected its purpose – a spontaneous and authentic attempt to express gratitude to those believed to have ensured the Iranian people's safety by sacrificing their comfort, health, and even their lives.

Different sections of the room were dedicated to various exhibits. On one large table, numerous letters addressed to Iranian soldiers were on display. I spent some time examining and reading them, and I noticed that most were written by children. The messy handwriting, occasional spelling errors, and informal tone of the letters only added to their authenticity. "My mom told me our military is strong. She said Iran will emerge victorious. I pray that you do," wrote a ten-year-old boy. On a separate piece of paper, he had drawn a soldier standing tall above a sleeping boy with his arms outstretched. Missile-like objects struck the soldier's back and extended arms as the boy slept peacefully next to him.

The visitors I saw were mostly ordinary citizens. I asked if anyone from the Armed Forces had visited the gallery and shared their thoughts. "One day, a man came in wearing civilian clothes. We assumed he was just another visitor, but he spent considerably more time here than the others," the organizer explained. "As he was leaving, he approached me and told me he was a member of Iran's Air Force. He said the messages and drawings had touched his heart and soul."

The letters, artworks, and handicraft are set to be turned in to a military representative later this week. 

The active, but unseen women

As I prepared to visit the gallery, I started outlining my report. I anticipated a straightforward experience, expecting raw emotions and tearful messages, and believed I understood the event's core theme.

However, upon visiting the gallery and examining the exhibits, I began to consider the people I had never associated with Iran's success during the conflict. Iran managed to remain intact, thwart the enemy's plans for its collapse, and ultimately deliver blows that forced Israel and the U.S. to request a ceasefire. I had always believed that Iranian soldiers and military leaders mostly deserved the credit for this resilience. But as I looked around the brightly lit room, read the letters, and admired the paintings and calligraphies, I noticed many creators thanking not just those on the front lines, but also the women who had dedicated themselves entirely to holding their families and society together.

The realization was initially shocking. In movies depicting war and conflict, women are usually portrayed as waiting wives or, at best, nurses tending to the injured. It hadn't occurred to me that during the difficult 12 days in June, while women may not have been the ones firing missiles or searching for spies at checkpoints, they were the office workers who kept the city running when many, especially in Tehran, were considering moving to safer locations. 

I remembered an old friend who is now a banker. I reached out to her after visiting the gallery and asked how she had managed work during those 12 days. "I remember some explosions happening near where I worked. It was pretty terrifying and nerve-wracking,” she told me over the phone. “But I didn't want to leave the bank. On the second day of the war, I stood outside and looked at the building as I was about to clock in. I realized I never wanted to see the bank empty. In that moment, not keeping that building open and running sounded more terrifying than the explosions.”

A large number of office workers in Tehran are female. The capital, which is the economic and political heart of the country, relies heavily on women to operate governmental bodies and the private sector. According to figures announced by the minister of labor last year, offices have become increasingly populated by women over time, as men, who are still largely expected to be the breadwinners in Iranian society, are gravitating towards local businesses or technical work that pays more than office jobs.

Another group of women who made significant contributions, yet received little recognition, were the wives, mothers, and sisters of those serving in the Armed Forces – an entity almost entirely comprised of men in Iran.

"My husband left for work minutes after the war started," said Banafsheh Eghbal, whose husband is a member of Iran's Armed Forces. I connected with her through the Hanil group. "The war began around 3 or 4 am on a Friday. We were supposed to take our daughter to a park that day. My husband had promised he would stay with her the entire day, as he had been away at work the previous weeks."

Banafsheh saw her husband briefly only twice during the 12 days of war. "He was home twice, from midnight to dawn. He came home, took a shower, and slept a few hours. I had never seen him so tired."

Banafsheh spent her days filled with worry and anxiety. However, she couldn't let her emotions show in front of her daughter, who was already upset about her father's prolonged absence. "Because of my husband's job, I had some understanding of Iran's military prowess. So, I knew it wouldn't be long until the war ended. But I was still very worried about my husband, and also about how the war would affect my daughter psychologically."

Banafsheh had family in regions far from the conflict zone. They insisted that she leave Tehran with her daughter and join them. But she said it was impossible for her. "I knew my husband could briefly visit at any moment of the day. I wanted to be there to greet him and wanted him to know his home was still there. What is a home without its family members?" 

She spent her days distracting her 6-year-old the best she could, and doing some of the routine things she always did. Banafsheh was not directly involved in the military, but she was an integral part of the support system that kept it functioning.