Abdulreza used to plan his studies in Tehran around a 90-minute flight from Najaf. This autumn, returning to university meant a 12-hour road journey.
The Iraqi student, now in the third year of a computer engineering PhD at Shahid Beheshti University, had gone home when the war closed Iran’s universities. As he prepared to return, the flight announcements kept changing: services were suspended, then apparently available, then uncertain again.
Tickets that used to cost him $100 to $150 were being offered for $400 to $700, he said, and seats were hard to secure. He considered flying through Dubai, but worried that connection might disappear too.
Instead, he took a bus from Najaf to the Mehran border crossing and travelled on to Tehran, paying 10,000 Iraqi dinars (about $8) for the first leg and 2.5 million tomans (about $10) for the second.
"The cost was not just financial," he said. "The journey was much harder."
His experience shows what disrupted air travel means for a relationship sustained by university places, medical appointments and pilgrimages.
The land crossings remain open, but replacing a short flight with a long road journey changes who can travel, how often and under what conditions.
Washington’s aviation sanctions have carried those decisions into homes, clinics and travel agencies on both sides of the border.
On 8 September, the US Treasury sanctioned 36 targets connected to Iranian aviation, including 27 airlines.
Washington accused Iranian carriers of supporting military activities and warned foreign companies servicing sanctioned airlines that they risked being cut off from the global financial system.
Foreign ground-handling companies then refused to service Iranian aircraft, halting flights at four Iraqi airports.
Baghdad sought exemptions for medical treatment, education and pilgrimage. On 2 October, the Iraqi prime minister’s office announced that Iranian airlines, excluding Mahan Air, could operate up to 40 daily flights to and from Najaf.
Iraqi Airways separately announced that daily services from Najaf to Tehran, Mashhad and Isfahan would resume on 8 October, after suspending its Iran flights in March.
The reopening gives some passengers an alternative. It does not undo cancelled appointments, return money already committed to bookings, or remove the uncertainty hanging over journeys planned weeks ahead.
Studying between two countries
More than 50,000 Iraqis study in Iran, according to Iran’s science minister, Hossein Simaei Sarraf.
Abdulreza’s interest in Iran began before university. He had studied Persian and knew Iranian culture well, which made Tehran a place where he could build a life alongside his studies.
He rents a flat in Tehranpars, in the east of the capital. Returning this autumn also meant bringing his belongings, which made finding a flight with a limited baggage allowance even harder.
He has completed his coursework and passed his comprehensive exam. But defending his research proposal and meeting his supervisors still require him to be there in person.
Internet blackouts during the war made remote contact unreliable, he said. Reaching Iran became harder just as he most needed to see his professors.
He used to travel home to Iraq once or twice a month without disrupting his work. Repeated overland journeys take far more time, and far more recovery.
"I may have to reconsider how often I go back," he said.
The border is still crossable. What has changed is the routine that let him keep a home in one country and his family in another.
Treatment postponed again
Abu Saeed had planned to bring his 78-year-old mother, Zahra, to Shiraz for cataract surgery. Instead, he is trying to figure out how to get her to the hospital.
An Iraqi businessman in Tehran’s stone market, he has lived in Iran for 22 years. His mother still lives in Iraq.
The war had already postponed her operation at Khodadoust International Hospital. The family then waited until after Arbaeen, when relatives were busy hosting pilgrims.
They chose autumn, hoping for cooler weather and time for Zahra to recover at her son’s home. She booked her flight for 5 October, and the surgeon’s fee was about $800.
"We have no problem paying for it," Abu Saeed said. "But I really don’t know how to bring my mother here."
Her surgeon, Dr Nazarpour, said he had agreed to reschedule despite a full appointment list. He understood why the family could not replace a flight with a long bus journey for an elderly patient.
Other clinics face the same disruption. Dr Rahimi, a dermatologist in Shiraz, said she treats 150 to 200 Iraqi patients a year, many of them travelling for hair transplants costing $500 to $1,200.
Four of her patients had recently been unable to arrive. Rearranging their appointments meant lost income and knock-on changes to other bookings.
For patients and doctors alike, a restored route is only part of the answer. Treatment also means matching travel dates to an appointment, and leaving enough time to recover before the journey home.
Iran’s tourism minister has described Iraq as the country’s leading tourism partner, with about 3.5 million Iraqis visiting each year for pilgrimage and healthcare.
Abu Mustafa, 45, who works for a food distribution company in Najaf, had planned a November pilgrimage and holiday in Mashhad as a wedding anniversary gift.
In August, he bought return tickets for himself, his wife and their 15-year-old son, Mustafa, and booked accommodation through a local agency.
In an interview arranged by the travel agency, he said over WhatsApp that his son had been counting the days until they left.
"They say a 40-flight exemption has been issued for Najaf, but the agency tells me there is no guarantee for November," he said.
His frustration runs deeper than one trip.
"Every year millions of Iranians come for the Arbaeen walk, and we open our homes to them," he said.
He asked why Iraqi travellers should lose access to Iran because of American sanctions. For his family, Najaf’s reopening is welcome, but their own journey remains uncertain.
The businesses behind the bookings
At the Dor o Nazdik travel agency on Tehran’s Nejatollahi Street, employee Javad described how the uncertainty over flights was hitting bookings, cash flow and the people hired to look after Iraqi visitors.
The agency served about 4,200 Iraqi travellers and patients in the last Iranian calendar year, he said. Accommodation, transfers and medical referrals for Iraqi clients made up around 60 percent of its annual net profit.
For the autumn, the agency had pre-purchased 45 airline seats a day. In August, it also paid more than 750 million tomans in hotel deposits for October and November, about $4,000 at that month’s exchange rate.
Since then, he said, the dollar has risen from around 187,000 to 250,000 tomans. Bookings that once promised a good return now leave the agency unsure how many customers will arrive.
Even the prospect of restored routes has not eased his worries.
"How do we know the US won’t impose new restrictions once our passengers arrive?" he asked.
Hotels are treating cancelled bookings as non-refundable or offering credit towards future stays, he said, leaving the agency’s money tied up while it waits for passengers to confirm their plans.
The uncertainty also hangs over the 12 freelance interpreters and eight drivers the agency had lined up for part-time work. They have worked with the company for years and never asked for advance payment, Javad said. Now their work is in doubt, and he does not know whether they can find other jobs.
For Javad, the disruption has changed more than his business outlook.
"Before these wars, I thought America had no problem with ordinary Iranians," he said. "Now I see it creating conditions that hurt me as a businessman too. My view of America has changed."
Najaf’s reopening offers some relief. But a restored route doesn't release hotel deposits, replace lost work, or make future bookings dependable.
For Abdulreza, Zahra’s family, and Abu Mustafa, the question is whether they can plan around a flight again and trust it will take off.
Peiman Salehi is a Tehran-based Iranian political analyst focusing on global order, emerging power structures, and non-Western coalitions
This article was published in collaboration with Egab.
