Aside from frayed posters of Iran’s presidential candidates on highway overpasses, there were few signs this weekend that the country had held a presidential election on Friday and was heading into a runoff.
Few rallies were held to praise the two top vote-getters from opposite ends of the political spectrum, with Iranians set to make a decision on July 5.
Even from the government’s official figures, it was clear that the real winner in Friday’s election was Iran’s silent majority, who either left their ballots blank or did not vote at all. About 60% of eligible voters did not vote or chose to cast a blank ballot.
Bita Israeli, a 40-year-old housewife in the Iranian capital, Tehran, said that was because voting was meaningless: “We have to choose between bad and worse,” she said. “There is no difference between one candidate and another.”
Many Iranians now see no reason to get engaged, she said. “We are observers, not participants,” she said. “We watch the election, and if there is a riot, we will watch, but we will not vote.”
I heard her comments over and over again as I talked to people from all backgrounds across Tehran — even some who had already voted but seemed ready to be disappointed.
Many are frustrated by past electoral experiences and unhappy with leaders’ inability to address Iran’s most pressing problems, particularly its struggling economy.
Still, despite Iran’s limited tolerance for dissent, there is some freedom of speech, providing a glimpse into skepticism in the capital.
Looming is the failed history of Iran’s reform movement, which has sought to loosen the Islamic republic’s domestic and foreign policies, from loosening social freedoms to improving relations with the West. Several prominent Iranian figures, including both presidents, have espoused a reformist platform, but their efforts have been consistently blocked by the country’s religious leaders, leading to waves of protests that ultimately led to repression and violence.
The most recent action was the 2022 national uprising led by women. It began as a protest against Iran’s mandatory hijab law, but soon expanded into calls for an end to clerical rule. By the time the demonstrations were suppressed, more than 500 people had been killed and more than 22,000 detained, according to a United Nations fact-checking mission.
These recent defeats have led those who voted for the only reform candidate in this election to lower their expectations.
On Saturday, a day after the vote, Farzad Jafari, 36, who runs an agricultural products export company, sat with four friends at a tree-lined community cafe in an upscale square in northern Tehran. He said he barely bothered to vote.
He said most people he knew were not involved in the presidential race this cycle, and of the four people he had coffee with, only Mr. Jaafari and a friend voted.
“I don’t want to vote at all because they exclude people who should be running,” Mr. Jafari said, referring to Iran’s system of vetting potential candidates by a council of Muslim clerics, known as the Guardian Council.
He said he realized that no one person could bring about change because ultimately all decisions were made by Iran’s Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei.
After the first round of voting, only two candidates remained: reformist Masoud Pezeshkian, whom Jaafari voted for, and ultraconservative former nuclear negotiator Saeed Jalili .
A reform candidate entering a runoff seemed to energize Mr. Jaafari and another person around the table, and soon they were considering their next move. They discussed which candidate would get the votes of people who are no longer running and how many Iranians who boycotted the first round might vote in the second round.
The key question, however, is whether a potential runoff between hardline conservatives and reformists will motivate reform-minded voters to turn out on July 5, including those who boycotted the first round. If so, this could be seen as a victory for a government that views electoral participation as a measure of regime legitimacy.
When the conversation turned to Friday’s runoff elections, I asked those who didn’t vote in the first round if they could vote in the second round, and three of them shook their heads “no.” Mr. Jaafari looked contrite.
“People have no hope,” he said, but then added, “But the thing is, the only thing we can do is hope.”
Similar sentiments were felt in the square, where four women gathered before heading to the lively Tajrish Bazaar for shopping. Cooking pot and vat of vegetables.
Women’s political views, attire, and tone of voice were very different from each other. Fatima, a 40-year-old mother of three, wore a black burqa. Shervin, 52, a civil engineer, wore a smartly tailored mustard-colored shirt and rust-colored trousers. Her headscarf barely covers her head. The third woman wore stylish baggy linen trousers and a thin white headscarf draped over her shoulders.
Of the four women, two voted and two did not vote. All four asked to be identified only by their first names for fear of retaliation from work or family members.
Even Fatima, who voted for the most conservative candidate and seemed the most determined about the election, didn’t sound truly enthusiastic. For her, voting is a religious duty.
But, she added, if the reform candidate wins, “I will support him.”
Fatima found comfort and stability in all the candidates approved by Iran’s religious leaders, contrary to many Iranians who see such exclusions as a way to thwart attempts to change Iran’s clergy-dominated system.
In contrast, Shevan said she has lost all faith in the government and, like many educated and skilled Iranians, is considering leaving the country. She’s considering going to Canada, though that’s not quite there yet—her son is in his final year of high school. Her daughter and several of her siblings are already in Toronto.
“Unfortunately, we don’t trust anyone the government allows to run,” she said. “Everything is getting worse. Things were fine five or ten years ago, but now we have less money and less freedom. Economy and freedom, that’s the key.
