A YOUNG Iranian woman, wearing baggy jeans and a backpack slung over one shoulder, donned a black mask, likely to protect her identity.
Allowing her auburn hair to flow freely, defying the country’s mandatory hijab rules, she spray-painted a warning in Persian on a wall in Mashhad: “Khamenei, you’re next.”
This stark message for Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ali Khamenei, appeared in May, just one day after President Ebrahim Raisi died in a helicopter crash.
Although undeniably dangerous, such acts of defiance have become increasingly common in Iran, where a disillusioned generation is eager to see the end of the geriatric establishment.
Young Iranians played a critical role in the recent elections to replace Raisi, as a significant portion of the nation rejected the nezam – the system – by boycotting the polls.
According to Iran’s official figures, only 40% of registered voters participated in the first round of voting on June 28, marking the lowest turnout in the republic’s 45-year history. The number increased to about 50% in the runoff election, though some suspect the real turnout might have been even lower. Videos from across the country showed empty polling stations.
Ultimately, the so-called reformist Masoud Pezeshkian defeated the hard-liner Saeed Jalili.
For many Iranians, there was no acceptable choice since both candidates were approved by the Guardian Council, a 12-member vetting body, half of whom are handpicked by Khamenei.
However, the widespread boycott seems to have unsettled the regime. The supreme leader delayed delivering his usual message congratulating the people of Iran for voting, signalling the impact of this civil disobedience.
The bleak turnout was anticipated. Soon after the election was announced, hashtags like #NoWayI’llVote and #ElectionCircus began circulating on social media, encouraging people to abstain from voting.
According to a survey conducted by the Group for Analysing and Measuring Attitudes in Iran (GAMAAN) in June, nearly 70% of those planning not to vote or who were undecided cited their “opposition to the overall system” as the reason.
Before the second round of voting on July 5, another hashtag, #TreacherousMinority, emerged, criticising those planning to vote for Pezeshkian, who opposes the violence associated with mandatory hijab enforcement and advocates for closer ties with the West.
Some equated voting, marked by dipping one’s finger in ink, with supporting state violence against protesters.
Many who planned to boycott the vote belong to Nasleh Zed, or Gen Z, a term newly entered into the Persian lexicon.
About 60% of Iran’s nearly 90 million people are under 30. This generation is the first to grow up with illegal satellite dishes and censored Internet access through VPNs, offering them a glimpse of the free world.
As they matured with the same needs and desires as youth elsewhere, Gen Z Iranians saw successive presidents pledge improvements that never materialised, leading to mass protests and brutal crackdowns.
The violent state response peaked during Aban Khoonin, or Bloody November, in 2019, when security forces reportedly killed 1,500 protesters, including children, during a complete Internet shutdown.
The violence during the term of President Hassan Rouhani, a moderate who promised change through an improved economy and better relations with the West, convinced many that it didn’t matter who was in power under the current system; authoritarianism prevailed.
Three years later, thousands of young Iranians bravely faced bullets and batons in the 2022 Women, Life, Freedom uprising, a prolonged anti-establishment protest that posed the greatest internal threat to the regime in decades.
As this tech-savvy generation bypasses Internet blocks to scroll through their social media feeds, they witness how aghazadehs, or children of the elites, enjoy lavish lifestyles on Instagram, driving the latest-model cars and eating extravagantly, benefiting from nepotism, systemic corruption, and the black market economy.
Meanwhile, the average Iranian – in a resource-rich country that funnels funds to Hamas and Hezbollah – struggles with high inflation, with 30% living below the poverty line.
“Young Iranians see no bright future for themselves, as the situation keeps getting worse,” said Roya Piraei, a 26-year-old woman who now resides in Britain after her mother was killed by security forces during the 2022 uprising.
She added that the current system “cannot meet the needs of the people.”
Many in Gen Z blame their parents and grandparents for establishing an Islamic republic after the 1979 revolution and for continuing to tolerate the status quo in hopes of incremental reform.
They do not differentiate between “principalist” politicians, known as hardliners in the West, and “reformists” like Pezeshkian.
Memes depicting pink nooses adorned with flowers and morality police wearing pink bows illustrate the view that reformists offer only a friendlier version of the existing regime.
To them, all these politicians are mere “footmen” of Khamenei, the ultimate decision-maker on domestic and foreign policies.
For those who voted for Pezeshkian, the new president represents hope for relief from Raisi’s hardline policies and Iran’s dire economic situation.
During his campaign, Pezeshkian, a 69-year-old cardiac surgeon and member of parliament, promised to “stand against” the morality police and online censorship and advocated for “constructive relations” with the West by returning to nuclear negotiations.
Pezeshkian has surrounded himself with advisers from the Rouhani era, but even if he manages to implement his agenda – contingent on the supreme leader’s approval – he is unlikely to satisfy those Iranians who already see the administration as beyond redemption.
This is particularly true for Nasleh Zed, who will not easily forget the faces of those killed and brutalised by the state over the years.
To them, Iran cannot be free as long as an octogenarian and his allies continue to rule the country. — ©2024 The New York Times Company
