Analysis

The quiet toll of war on campuses from afar

For students from conflict zones, the emotional toll of war is often as heavy as any financial burden, but far less visible.

By Michelle Zhu

"While the world watches diplomatic manoeuvres, these students are living through a different kind of battle on campus."
"Iranians in the country were "experiencing profound vicarious trauma, grief, anxiety, and survivor's guilt" as they witnessed events back home."
“The psychological effects of war do not disappear quickly, and there is little reason to think the current crisis will be different.”

In brief

  • International students from conflict zones endure a "quiet toll" of emotional distress, survivor's guilt, and academic impairment while witnessing violence in their homelands from afar.
  • Communication blackouts and chronic stress physically impair cognitive functions, yet these students often lack the targeted mental health support granted during previous global crises.
  • Universities must prioritise sustained counseling and flexible academic arrangements, recognising that recovery from the long-term psychological impacts of war is rarely a straight line.

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As the rest of us follow news about missile strikes, ceasefires and peace talks, international students from conflict zones are dealing with something quieter and often overlooked – but perhaps just as damaging. There is the guilt and worry towards family members located thousands of miles away in bombing zones. There is the constant, nagging question about whether to stay or leave. And then there is the fear of facing an increasingly hostile environment in a host country.

That's the reality for thousands of students from Iran, Lebanon, and other parts of the Middle East right now. While the world watches diplomatic manoeuvres, these students are living through a different kind of battle on campus.

The helplessness of distance

Repeated internet blackouts across Iran, which began before the war but have intensified throughout the conflict, mean that students abroad can go days without contact with their families. Without reliable communication, they are left to rely on second-hand reports, social media and news footage to piece together what is happening in their hometowns.

Situations like this harm academic performance in tangible ways, as was the case for a public oral health sciences student in Canada who told CTV News it was "difficult to even do the simplest tasks sometimes" while thinking about the ongoing war back home in Iran.

This kind of prolonged uncertainty has a measurable impact on mental health, especially when there is no clear endpoint to a war. The only thing students can do is to remain alert, waiting for the next piece of bad news.

To stay, or go?

As the war continues, students face a difficult decision: return home or remain abroad. Returning means entering a conflict zone. It may also mean abandoning a degree, losing tuition fees, and disappointing family members who invested in that education from half a world away.

Jacob Blasius is Executive Director of the Global Student Forum, , an umbrella organisation bringing together student representative groups around the world. He says his organisation has received reports of international students in affected regions who are unsure whether they should leave, give up, break their current study progression, or wait it out. This is particularly so for students from less affluent backgrounds, he says, adding that they face pressure to stay and continue an education they or their family is paying for.

“There is a significant number of students who are Iranian studying outside of Iran. Not all have lived in Iran but still feel a strong connection to the country and the family they have there,” he notes.

Staying abroad means continuing one’s studies in safety, but it often comes with feelings of guilt. This is so widespread among the Iranian diaspora in Canada that it was cited in an official petition to the House of Commons, which noted that Iranians in the country were "experiencing profound vicarious trauma, grief, anxiety, and survivor's guilt" as they witnessed events back home.

In another account, a student in the United States described to the Boston Globe a mix of relief and horror after the killing of Iran's supreme leader: relief that a dictator was gone, but horror that the bombs might be falling near her own parents' home.

And for some students, staying gets harder when they start to feel less welcome, or even threatened, in their host country.

In late March, students at American-linked universities in Iraqi Kurdistan suddenly found themselves confronted with the threat of their campuses becoming direct targets. That came as the US Embassy in Baghdad issued a security alert warning that "Iran and its aligned terrorist militias may intend to target the American Universities in Baghdad, Sulaymaniyah, and Dohuk, along with other universities perceived to be associated with the United States". The alert added that Iran had "specifically threatened American universities across the Middle East".

What students need

Most universities have been quick to offer deadline extensions than targeted emotional support. But what students really appear to need most immediately is someone to talk to. In a February 2026 statement, the European Students' Union noted that Iranian students "continue their studies under psychological stress, grief, and constant insecurity".

Data from the region underscores the scale of this cognitive load. Some 82 percent of Israeli students polled by the Israel Student Union reported they were struggling to study amid the war, mainly citing difficulty concentrating, exhaustion, and stress and anxiety. The survey also found that 41 percent feared a mental struggle in transitioning back to full-time academic routines after the conflict.

However, not every university is well equipped to respond promptly. At Langara College in Vancouver, the Persian Club tried to arrange a group counselling session for Iranian students, but was told that the counselling department was "short-staffed" and could not provide it, according to the Langara Voice. The Link reported another Iranian student at Concordia University in Montreal noted that requests for mental health support were met with long wait times.

Blasius of the Global Student Forum points to a contrast with previous conflicts.

"With the war in Ukraine, we saw universities, primarily in Europe, offering support mechanisms to Ukrainian students," he says. "We have not seen the same kind of support offered to Iranian students."

Blasius notes that the same support mechanisms, namely psychosocial support and options for postponed exam deadlines, can and should be deployed for students with ties to Iran, and not only those who have recently arrived from the country.

The longer-term effects

Research from other conflicts suggests that the psychological effects of war do not disappear quickly, and there is little reason to think the current crisis will be different.

A 25-year Oxford study on young people affected by war found that the impact can last for decades, affecting mental health, education, employment and even the next generation. In Ethiopia's conflict-affected Tigray region, for instance, 41 percent of young people reported anxiety and 32 percent depression. Similar patterns have been observed in Sudan, where conflict has inflicted severe psychological distress on the country's youth, leading to increased cases of depression, anxiety and PTSD.

The reason students struggle to concentrate in these situations is not lack of effort: science has shown that chronic stress directly impairs the brain's cognitive functions that are needed for studying. According to a 2006 paper by American psychiatrist Bruce D. Perry, high levels of stress and trauma negatively affect critical thinking ability by putting learners in a more reactive and reflexive state, rather than a reflective one.

For students from Iran and other conflict zones, the outcomes may be similar, extending even to the point of abandoning their academic dreams. Research on Ukrainian students showed that an estimated 41,500 abandoned the traditional pathway to higher education following the Russian invasion, with a 21 percent decline in students taking the standardised university entrance exam in 2022 compared to 2021.

What comes next

Past global conflicts already give some indication of what lies ahead for students from the Middle East. The patterns are not unique to any one war. They are predictable responses to prolonged stress and uncertainty.

For students from affected regions, the coming months and years are likely to follow similar trajectories. Some will recover in time and with support. Others will struggle longer.

Blasius also raises a longer-term concern about international education itself, as the Global Student Forum’s preliminary findings have indicated that geographical tension leads to lower mobility in general.

“Students choose mobility closer to home or in places that are less different from their home. I am concerned that this will mean that fewer students will become international students or that the type of mobility will be more limited, meaning a loss in international outlook and the potential for international cooperation. In times like these, we need international cooperation and understanding more than ever."

Students who have lived through this crisis from a distance may continue to battle its effects long after a ceasefire. How long that recovery might take will be different for everyone.

For now, universities can still make interventions to make a real difference to those who are struggling: providing sustained access to counselling, flexible academic arrangements, and most importantly, recognition that recovery does not follow a straight line.