Iran has been hit by a massive wave of redundancies, both directly and indirectly as a result of the conflict with the US and Israel. Its Deputy Work and Social Security Minister, Gholamhossein Mohammadi, said two days ago that two million people had lost their jobs because of the war. The widespread lay-offs are one of the biggest topics of conversation among ordinary Iranians on social media. Employers and government officials euphemistically refer to it as 'balancing the workforce'. The impact goes far beyond factories closed down after being hit by air strikes. It also includes other manufacturers, retailers, import and export businesses, and the digital sector. 'You can see it from the emptiness of the metro,' posted one user on X. 'You can see it from the abundance of parking spaces near the office,' said another. 'You can get it from the emptiness of the Hemmat [highway in Tehran]. My one-and-a-half hour journey took only half an hour,' came another comment. The war has also had a negative impact on consumer spending, with many people cutting back to essentials, which has reduced demand in sectors such as tourism, restaurants, and retailers other than groceries. The Iranian authorities' decision to impose an internet blackout since the war broke out has also hit Iran's relatively thriving tech and digital sectors. Officials say the decision to shut down the internet was taken for security reasons, suggesting that it is to prevent surveillance, espionage, and cyber-attacks. It took the same step during the brutal clampdown on protests earlier this year, which was mainly aimed at restricting protesters' ability to organize and access information. Back in January, Iran's Information and Communication Technology Minister, Sattar Hashemi, mentioned that each day of the internet blackout costs the economy at least 50 trillion rials ($35m). By that count, the 52 days of internet shutdown since the start of the war have cost the Iranian economy more than $1.8 billion. The blackout has particularly affected female earners. Official data shows that only one in nine working-age women in Iran had jobs before the war, and hundreds of thousands relied on platforms such as Instagram to connect with customers and sell products. Moreover, even at a time of increased demand for news due to the conflict, many media outlets have shed workers. For instance, the Iran Labour News Agency (Ilna) laid off all its journalists last week, asking them to work as freelancers. In late March and early April, the US and Israel targeted two of Iran's largest petrochemical plants, in Asaluyeh and Mahshahr, as well as two major steel manufacturers, Mobarakeh Steel and Khuzestan Steel. While tens of thousands directly lost their jobs, hundreds of thousands more work in firms that either supply these key industries or rely on them for raw materials. One example is Iran's significant car manufacturing sector, which is estimated to directly or indirectly employ one million people, with multiple reports of layoffs across its supply chain. Disruptions in the Strait of Hormuz have also forced some factories to shut down and dismiss workers. An executive in a manufacturing firm in the central province of Qom noted that they had to halt production due to a lack of materials, worried that foreign suppliers would not permit shipments to reach Iranian waters. Reports have emerged of companies laying off employees with promises to rehire them once conditions improve, while others are compelling workers to take unpaid leave. The government has introduced a loan scheme for small businesses, offering 440 million rials (less than $300) per worker, to be repaid in six months at interest rates between 18% and 35%, depending on redundancies made. This wave of unemployment coincides with an official inflation rate surpassing 50% as of March 2026, and many experts predict it may rise further. If the war resumes or if Iran remains under stringent international sanctions, conditions could worsen significantly for tens of millions of Iranians. Air strikes have devastating consequences, but the economic downturn, escalating unemployment, and surging prices could deepen the crisis considerably.
Iran Faces Economic Fallout Amid Mass Layoffs Due to Ongoing Conflict
Iran Faces Economic Fallout Amid Mass Layoffs Due to Ongoing Conflict
The continuing war between Iran, the US, and Israel has resulted in significant job losses across various sectors in Iran, with over two million people laid off, affecting both the economy and consumer behavior.
Iran is experiencing a severe wave of layoffs, directly linked to the conflict with the US and Israel, with Deputy Minister Gholamhossein Mohammadi stating that two million jobs have been lost. This crisis is impacting multiple sectors, including manufacturing, retail, and digital businesses, with a sharp decline in consumer spending and an enforced internet blackout exacerbating the situation. The economic strain is set against a backdrop of soaring inflation and fears of worsening conditions.
![Caterers, Countless Lives: Detroit Chef's Food Feeds Lebanon's War‑Torn Families","description":"In the suburbs of Dearborn Heights, a 47‑year‑old Lebanese chef turns her catering profits into lifelines for over a million displaced from Lebanon, illustrating how U.S. diaspora communities bridge crises from afar.","summary":"When war in southern Lebanon breaks out, hundreds of thousands flee to neighboring Israel and the United States. Amid rising costs, Mirvet Makki—Detroit‑based caterer—sets aside a portion of her earnings each week to sponsor families back home. Her culinary endeavor, which serves soured couscous stews and savory kibbeh, becomes a quiet lifeline for a nation in economic crisis. The problem mirrors a larger diaspora trend: U.S. Lebanese communities fund relief, rally politically, and keep cultural bonds alive, even as they watch conflict unfold from afar.","image":"https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1588097834006-0edc6c69d944?auto=format&fit=crop&w=640&q=80","text":"<p>In the Detroit suburb of Dearborn Heights, 47‑year‑old Mirvet Makki punches kitchen knives and pushes trays of fragrant Lebanese dishes, the same dishes that stir memories of her childhood village in Bint Jbeil. When the devastating war between Israel and Hezbollah dragged thousands of civilians into tent cities, a wave of refugees hit Lebanon’s southern coast—and the Lebanese diaspora in America felt a pull they could not ignore.</p><p>Every week, Makki allocates a slice of her catering profits to families in Lebanon devastated by aerial bombardments and land mines. She says the money is not a charitable donation in the truest sense. Rather, it is a trans‑national family budget trickle that keeps aunts and cousins fed while they await a return that may never happen. The funds travel across borders to a people whose homes have been reduced to rubble.</p><p>Lebanon’s displacement crisis has reached a scale previously thought unlikely: more than one million of the 6‑million‑strong population—roughly one in six—have fled their homes. The economic damage is brutal and the currency has weakened to the point that the U.S. dollar circulates in many rural markets. Food cost, fuel availability, and basic utilities have all collapsed, leaving communities hungry and desperate.</p><p>“I was thinking, ‘What can I do for other people?’” Makki says. “So I used my business.” She maintains a strict budget, limiting personal overhead to spare enough money for her sisters, nephews, and a small handful of friends who live in the most affected regions.</p><p>Many Lebanese Americans—some of them in the U.S. since the late 1800s—have become the de facto financial lifeline for Lebanon. According to the last census, roughly 625,000 Lebanese‑American residents live in the United States now, though many estimates claim the number could be as high as 1.4 million. Secretary‑General António Guterres shook hands with families in South Lebanon while speaking in Nairobi, underscoring how diaspora remittances are crucial to the country's survival.</p><p>Christians, Sunni and Shiite Muslims, and smaller Druze communities in Lebanon face distinct hardships, but their U.S. cousins unite over common concerns. When the U.S. voted to provide war aid to Israel, a wave of Lebanese Americans gathered around the “uncommitted movement” to protest, and the community also rallied to condemn a Michigan synagogue shooting. These political coalitions share a single aim: to be the voice and the hand for those who cannot lift themselves.</p><p>“When they see suffering in Lebanon, people’s immediate reaction … is for the community to come together, raise funds, raise money, and try to help everybody as much as they can,” says Akram Khater, director of Lebanese Diaspora Studies at North Carolina State University. “Most rely on one another – they are not looking to Washington for the furniture to rebuild.”</p><p>In February, Makki visited her homeland. She saw how the price of living had skyrocketed: a car rental that once cost $200 would now be a luxury. She felt the loss firsthand in a small roadside food stall that had dwindled to a single dish. That trip cemented her determination to channel her income back to Lebanon.</p><p>Some Americans are moving beyond bank transfers; they meet with families on video calls and, when possible, travel to Lebanon themselves to deliver goods or give a hands‑on hand. Nadia Bryant, a 37‑year‑old mother of Troy, Michigan, sends money to her sisters in temporary housing after their village of Ayta ash‑Shab was invaded. “They donated in direct form to orphans,” she says. “They do not even ask to put the money toward their own betterment.”</p><p>While the U.S. still cannot process immigrant visas for Lebanese nationals due to congressional stand‑by, many families despair. Attoui, a Detroit‑based fundraiser, has urged her relatives to immigrate. They are unwilling. “I have all my aunts and my cousins over there,” Attoui says. “So if you could bring [people] here, that would be a relief.”</p><p>Despite the personal losses and cultural distance, the Lebanese diaspora in the U.S. remains fiercely alive. They keep the poise of their homeland, raise money, and stand together in protest. As the war stretches on, the warmth of a pot of stew and the generosity of a family’s earnings become a quiet, daily rebellion against impossible hunger.</p>](/m/d1/2a/d12a9a3593712ff0281d85ddca1a552c8f027c57cb44d7ac67e0241a3bd37d9d/o.webp)
