With Diverse Tactics, Women's Rights Activists Shaped Iran's Elections

Although there are no official statistics on the number of women who participated in the fourteenth presidential election in Iran, evidence suggests that participation was limited. Mardomak, a research firm, reviewed a random sample of over 8,000 Iranian twitter users one week before the election. Of this sample, just 18 percent were women who supported Pezeshkian. Double that proportion supported one of the two hardline candidates, Saeed Jalili and Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf, while 39 percent intended to abstain from the election.

But even if most women voters did not participate in the election, they still had a significant impact on its outcome. In a recent interview with the reformist newspaper Etemad, Shirin Ahmadnia, a sociology professor at Allameh Tabataba’i University, underscored the ways in which women have transformed the political arena through new forms of activism, including election boycotts.

For years, the Iranian women’s movement had adopted a “pressure from below, bargaining from above” approach to activism, aiming to bring about reform through a combination of tactics. But political elites were unswayed by the social pressure and unwilling to engage in good-faith negotiations—the situation of women remained largely the same, whether a moderate or fundamentalist was president. The Women, Life, Freedom movement, which emerged after the death of Mahsa (Jina) Amini, brought a new urgency to the fight for gender equality. Iranian women were no longer mobilizing to with the goal of reform. They wanted fundamental political change.

The death of Ebrahim Raisi in a helicopter accident led to new elections. Surprisingly, the Guardian Council, a vetting body, approved Pezeshkian to run. Faced with an unexpected election and a surprising candidate, some women activists did choose to vote, casting their ballots for Pezeshkian, who was backed by reformists and moderates. My conversations with nine women’s rights activists in Iran revealed complex feelings about the election and the best tactics to improve the status of women in Iranian society. Their names have been changed for their own safety.

Leila, an activist and writer, did not vote in either round of the election, but she deliberated voting in the second round. “I have not participated in elections since 2021. I asked myself: Should women participate in the elections when the presidential candidates promise nothing about women’s rights? As a woman, why should I participate in the elections of a state that does not show flexibility for women’s rights?”

Leila understood why some women may have opted to vote when Pezeshkian made it to the second round. “I think some of those who had not voted in the first round participated in the second round because [Jalili] represented religious fundamentalism, which worried me too. But in the end, I decided not to vote because I believed Pezeshkian’s chances of winning were high.”

Historically, women’s rights activists have been considered part of the reformist’s base. But a perceived neglect of women’s demands has led the reformists to lose much of this support. Maryam, a journalist who focuses on women’s issues has volunteered for reformist campaigns in the past. But she did not vote for Pezeshkian. She referred to a feeling of disappointment as candidates failed to make good on their promises. “I did not vote because I have no hope. My friends and I feel disillusioned with the reformists, with politics, and with elections. The president does not play a pivotal role in this dictatorial system.”

Many women experience double discrimination due to their ethnicity. Sahar, an activist from the Iranian province of Kurdistan, viewed abstention as a form of civil resistance. “I did not vote because civil laws, family rights, and political rights discriminate against me due to my gender,” she explained. “Legal reform has stalled for years. Moreover, my ethnicity, language, and identity still lack representation in political discussions.”

Sahar criticized Pezeshkian’s stance on women, adding “According to Pezeshkian, women’s social presence and gender justice are intertwined with their role within the family. He believes a woman’s identity should be defined solely within the family institution. In essence, women are denied individual freedoms and citizenship rights beyond household duties. His traditional thinking fails to recognize each woman’s independent identity.”

While many Iranian women grew disillusioned in the aftermath of the Women, Life, Freedom protests, for others, the turning point came earlier. For Haleh, who was jailed for her activism against the compulsory hijab law, this moment came after the downing of Ukraine International Airlines Flight PS752, which was hit by Iranian anti-aircraft missiles in January 2020. Explaining her decision to boycott the election, Haleh pointed to the failure of the government to create accountability.

“The main reason for me, even before the candidates were announced and before knowing whether we would have a reformist candidate or not, was that after the plane incident, I became disillusioned with the reforms,” Haleh explained. I was convinced that the path we had followed all these years would no longer work. In the past, I had hope and believed that voting for the reformists would lead us down the right path. But now, I ask myself, what difference does it make whether Jalili or Pezeshkian is president?”

While few women’s rights activists believe that Pezeshkian’s victory will lead to fundamental change, particularly on women’s issues, some believe that having a reform-minded president will make a difference. Many women’s rights activists saw voting for Pezeshkian as a chance to address economic hardships, revitalize social movements, and create greater space for women to voice their demands. Many women’s rights activists are struggling to make a living, which makes it difficult for them to sustain their activism.

According to Soudabeh, an activist and social worker, Pezeshkian’s promise to put technocrats back in charge of policy earned him the vote of some women. “They believed that Pezeshkian could address the deterioration of Iran’s economy by appointing people who are more knowledgeable and moderate to key positions. Iran’s situation is like a person with an incurable disease, and the Pezeshkian’s presidency might help slow or reverse the country’s deterioration.”

Some women’s rights activists working in governmental organizations or managing NGOs expressed a similar hope for the Pezeshkian administration. Shahla, an employee of a governmental organization, contrasted the Rouhani and Raisi governments. “During the Rouhani administration, despite its weaknesses, some women activists held management positions. With the fundamentalist representatives now in parliament, we cannot expect fundamental changes, but we are optimistic about social openings for women under Pezeshkian. Positive changes have already begun in our organization, indicating that while the president may not be able change the structure of the system, he can still influence social policies. I believe the state has acknowledged public dissatisfaction and is considering implementing changes, however small.’’

Despite Iran’s structural discrimination against women, some women’s rights activists still believe that they must not abandon the political arena. They seek improvements, however small, such as creating spaces to express their demands. Shadi, who runs an NGO for women, described the risks when fundamentalists gain power. “Most of us with NGOs working on women’s rights encouraged others to vote despite facing punishment for our activism. We endured the suffocating atmosphere of the Raisi era. Now, a small hope has emerged. Since Pezeshkian has been elected, some people in the governmental organizations we deal with have retreated from their fundamentalist stances.”

Shadi challenged the notion that activists should welcome the further deterioration of conditions in Iran. “Some have criticized me for founding an NGO, believing that increasing social problems could lead to the [Islamic Republic’s] downfall. In these years, so many women have been killed, yet nothing has happened to the state. These expectations are abstract. We must protect women and create spaces where diverse voices are heard,” she insisted. “We must not allow fundamentalists to take power in all three branches of government.”

Reyhaneh, an activist and law student, voted for Pezeshkian in the first round of the election. “I voted in the first round because I believe that the social movements need revitalization, and Pezeshkian’s presidency offers a greater likelihood of this compared to Jalili. Additionally, my decision was grounded in a pragmatic view of potential changes in the country.” Reyhaneh hoped for “less fear on the streets, less suppression of university students, and fewer professors dismissed.”

But she abstained in the second round. “In the second round, I paid closer attention to the debates, and the inconsistency of Pezeshkian’s statements about the economy dissuaded me from voting. For instance, he once emphasized that we should not allow people to experience poverty; yet in another context, he advocated for minimal government intervention.’’

Reyhaneh has low expectations as Pezeshkian prepares for his inauguration.  “I don’t anticipate a reversal in policies regarding hijab, which concerns many of us. There may be some changes in the distribution of positions held by women, and more educated women may enter the government roles, but the glass ceiling will likely remain intact.’’

Saba, a sociologist who supported Pezeshkian, understands why many of her fellow activists refused to vote. She says Iranian women are engaging in “intentional neglect.” These women are no longer abstaining from voting to express anger towards Iran’s political elite. Instead, they are indifferent. “Women are signaling to the state, ‘We want nothing to do with you. We are forging our own paths, building our own businesses to maintain independence, crafting our own narratives, and creating separate media spaces on social platforms. Every day, we distance ourselves further from you,’” Saba explained.

In a campaign statement addressing “the main demands of today’s women,” Pezeshkian acknowledged that “today’s women do not want someone other than themselves to decide their marriage, education, career, clothing, and lifestyle.” Pezeshkian was the only candidate to issue such a statement, which declared that “the expansion and realization of gender justice will not only improve the condition of women but also to the revival of life in Iran.’’ He promised to “respect [women’s] choices” and to “provide a platform” for Iranian women “to become the best versions of themselves.”

Pezeshkian will begin his term without a mandate from Iranian women, but it is still in his interest to fulfill his promises to them. Should he fail to do so, Iranian women will boldly challenge him, as they have challenged his predecessors.

Photo: IRNA

Iran's Presidential Election Combines Low Turnout with High Stakes

The second round of Iran’s snap presidential election marks a critical moment for the country. On July 5, voters will decide between former deputy head of parliament Masoud Pezeshkian and ex-nuclear negotiator Saeed Jalili. While both candidates will struggle to restore power and prestige to the office of the president, the outcome of the election will be highly consequential for Iran, especially as the succession of Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei looms. Pezeshkian and Jalili have presented two diverging visions for the future of the Islamic Republic at a time when most Iranians have come to question the fundamental tenets of their political system.

The political divisions in Iran now extend beyond the long-running rivalry between “Principalists” and “Reformists.” Cleavages exist within progressive and conservative groups and between those who believe in the continuation of the Islamic Republic and those seeking fundamental political change. The record-low turnout in the election’s first round—just 40 percent of eligible voters cast ballots—reflects how a focus on ideological policies has alienated the electorate. In 2021, 18 million people voted for Ebrahim Raisi, whose shock death in a helicopter accident triggered new elections. On June 28, the combined vote for Jalili and third-place contender Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf, the leading conservative candidates, totaled less than 13 million.

Reformists have likewise struggled to mobilize voters. Progressive Iranians want action on a wide ranging of issues, including women’s rights, internet censorship, political freedoms, minority rights, foreign relations, jobs and wages, healthcare, climate change, and education. While Pezeshkian, who received 10.4 million votes in the first round, has acknowledged these demands, most progressive voters do not believe he can foster change, and have so far stayed away from the polls.

Moreover, many Iranians opted not to vote because of a widespread belief that the election is illegitimate, owing to perceived election engineering and vote tampering. Many influential political figures have boycotted the snap elections, labelling the process an “election circus.” The sham election that brought Raisi to power in 2021 underscored the regime’s commitment to its own dogma, sacrificing decades of legitimacy earned through elections that were not free, but were competitive.

Raisi was a weak president, presiding over a system in which the executive’s powers are curtailed. Unelected bodies and interests groups enjoy significant influence over government policy in Iran and the Supreme Leader sets the red lines. Voters are under no illusions about the limits of the Iranian president’s power. But within the bounds of Iran’s political system, the divergence in the domestic and foreign policies of different presidents are often stark.

During the debates earlier this week, Pezeshkian and Jalili showcased their contrasting visions. Jalili comes from a self-proclaimed shadow government. He has led from the shadows for eleven years since securing just 4.17 million votes in the 2013 presidential election, which was won by Hassan Rouhani. Jalili champions a future where Iran is detached from Western influence. He vehemently opposes any engagement with the United States and, to a lesser extent, European countries. As a member of the Supreme National Security Council, Jalili used his political power to stymie revival of the Iran nuclear deal. Many fear that, if elected, Jalili might withdraw from the Non-Proliferation Treaty, thrusting Iran back into a nuclear crisis.

On the domestic front, Jalili’s camp includes ultra-conservatives vying for strict Islamic governance, more censorship, and tighter hijab laws and social restrictions. Even though Jalili has positioned himself as a kind of status-quo candidate, poised to maintain the policies of the Raisi administration, he is a divisive figure even within conservative circles. Some Raisi and Ghalibaf allies have indicated that they will support Pezeshkian over Jalili.

That Pezeshkian appeals to some conservatives points to the challenge he faces in mobilizing disaffected voters. His background distinguishes him from recent presidential candidates. He is an accomplished cardiac surgeon with certificates from the United States and Switzerland and served as Mohammad Khatami’s health minister. Some voters have connected with his personal story. Pezeshkian lost his wife and son in a car crash in 1993. He has not remarried.

Pezeshkian has said his foreign policy will be based on “engagement with the world,” which includes “negotiations for lifting sanctions.” Pezeshkian may be permitted to revive talks over the Iran nuclear deal—there is growing awareness among policymakers across Iran’s political specturm that sanctions relief is necessary for getting the economy back on track. However, he will face significant challenges in advancing his domestic policies. The parliament is dominated by hardliners, who will make it difficult for Pezeskhian to confirm his preferred ministers, which may include his outspoken campaign surrogates, former foreign minister Mohammad Javad Zarif and former communications minister Mohammad-Javad Azari Jahromi. Without an intervention from the Supreme Leader to encourage post-election unity, the political paralysis in Iran could prove even worse than in the final years of the Rouhani administration.

The specter of further political paralysis has no doubt deterred voters from believing in the viability of a Pezeshkian presidency. Boycotting the first round allowed the Iranian electorate to send a strong political signal that they will not allow their votes to legitimize a political system that is failing them.

But the stakes seem different now. A Pezeshkian victory appears a real possibility. If 10.4 million had not voted for Pezeshkian in the first round, it would have been reasonable for disaffected voters to completely boycott the election. But on the eve of the final round, voters may be thinking more tactically about the stakes of this election. A Pezeshkian presidency is a chance to hit the brakes at a time when Iran is accelerating towards a deeper political, economic, and social crisis. Whether Pezeshkian can turn the car around remains to be seen. But preventing Jalili from driving the country off a cliff might be reason enough to vote.

Photo: IRNA

Putting Iranian People Before Non-Proliferation

This article was originally published on LobeLog.

With such a vibrant economy and society, it is hard to be anything but optimistic about Iran in the long term, even in the recent dark days. Iran’s challenges have always been about prospects in the short term, lurching as it has between domestic and foreign crises. Concerns about the short term have shaped the thinking of foreign stakeholders, who have held off on investments or engagements because of fears of political or economic turmoil. Similar doubts have also crowded the thinking of Iranians themselves, who respond to turmoil by making self-serving decisions, which often prove costly for society down the line. In this way, Iran’s circumstances have been about opportunities delayed, about a widening gulf between short-term pain and the promise of long-term prosperity.

As they look back at the 2015 nuclear deal (the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action or JCPOA), many Iranians see that its promise was wrapped up in the expectation that such a “grand bargain” would help Iran bridge the gulf between the circumstances of today and the prosperity of tomorrow. Iran, by both making and receiving careful concessions in the course of multilateral negotiations with the world powers had in effect brought forward the time horizon for its own bright future.

Today, the gulf is widening again. In a rare instance of transparency, Trump administration officials openly refer to their Iran policy as an “economic war.” Sanctions are no longer being used as tools of coercive diplomacy, but of economic destruction. Worse still, the operative logic of the most recent sanctions is to create a “sanctions wall.” For the first time, the United States is applying sanctions for the express purpose of making previous sanctions more difficult to lift. This was declared intention of designating the Revolutionary Guards a foreign terrorist organization.

The recent decision to revoke the oil waivers—which does nothing more than remove what proponents of the “significant reduction exemptions” had themselves described as a “humanitarian channel” in which oil revenues flowed into escrow accounts—will place unprecedented economic pressure on Iran, just as intended. The effects of such mounting pressure have been plain to see.

In the last few days, I have spoken to several friends and colleagues in Iran. With each call, the individuals on the other end of the line feel so much farther away than they did even just a few weeks ago. On Tuesday, I was discussing the ramifications of the oil waiver issue with an Iranian journalist. He asked me what Iran’s government could do in response. I instantly felt the responsibility to offer an answer, a ray of hope. But my answer was so obviously unconvincing, with even my Persian falling short as I tried to formulate the pitiful sentences, that I felt embarrassed. Not because of the answer itself, but because suddenly the fiction of shared experiences was made clear.

For the last few years, those of us who deal with Iranian interlocutors on a regular basis could find some joy and motivation in the idea that our lived experiences were converging. More outsiders could engage Iran and more Iranians could engage the wider world. But the reality of political and economic isolation is just that—a deep and pervading separation that makes it clear that although all sides were poised to share the dividends of the JCPOA, only one side will truly bear the costs of its collapse.

Power and the People

Iran’s halting push for nuclear and ballistic missile technology has generally been understood in the context of a regional-security dilemma. Facing huge asymmetries in military power, Iran has sought to develop the means for its own defense.

But it is unclear if the security dilemma is a salient formulation in a period in which a historic non-proliferation agreement has become something of a political curse for its Iranian stewards and a source of abject disappointment for the voters who brought those political leaders to office.

In many respects, the political prospects for the JCPOA were always going to be judged by a simple formula—would Iran appear more powerful with the agreement or without it? In this sense, the state visits, foreign investment, cultural exchanges, and other dividends of diplomacy were meant to provide a spectacle of power, a font of pride, that would displace those grainy images of centrifuges in their neat rows or the footage of missiles emblazoned with political slogans.

The dividends of diplomacy never really materialized. Today, appearing “powerless” is the ultimate political liability for the Iranian state and its leadership. Iran has been made to look weak as trading partners make risible efforts to protect commercial ties in the face of U.S. pressure. The Rouhani government has been made to look weak, out-maneuvered by a shambolic Trump administration. Most troubling, the Iranian people feel powerless as their standard of living is eroded by forces outside of their control, even the forces of Mother Nature herself.

These circumstances give new meaning to the notion of “power hungry.” It is not Iran’s elites who are power hungry. They enjoy ample power. It is the Iranian people who crave power. There seems to be a belief among some in Washington that this hunger—perhaps even literal hunger—will drive the Iranian people to seize power from the elites.

But I foresee a different scenario. Recent surveys have shown a marked increase in the number of Iranians seeking “retaliation” in the face of U.S. violations of the JCPOA. There is genuine anger and frustration among large swaths of the public, directed both at the United States and at the Iranian establishment.

These emotions cannot remain undirected—and Iran’s imperfect democracy offers the channel. Routine elections present Iranian politicians the opportunity to respond to this hunger for power by co-opting it. Just as the disempowered in Eastern Europe, Latin America, Southeast Asia, and the United States have voted for politicians who obsess over expressions of power, so too might Iranians choose to displace their own powerlessness by investing their political capital in a “strongman.”

In such a scenario, the decision to revitalize or expand the nuclear and ballistic missile programs is no longer about calibrating regional security or asserting sovereignty against the West. The centrifuges and missiles themselves become symbols of power, a kind of spectacle around which people can rally. At some level, this is the basic rally-around-the-flag effect that many have been warning about. But this effect has yet to be turned into the sine qua non of domestic politics in Iran. Even under former President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, there remained a fundamental technocratic orientation of the government.

Rethinking Non-Proliferation

For this reason, non-proliferation must be re-conceived as a political project in the post-JCPOA era. Within the context of the JCPOA, the empowerment of the Iranian people was always seen as a secondary outcome of the agreement’s non-proliferation achievements. In a striking illustration, the Trump administration has been messaging its intention to “support the Iranian people” more vociferously, if disingenuously, than the Obama administration and other parties to the JCPOA ever did.

On one hand it is encouraging to see Democratic Party candidates seek to break with the Trump administration’s “maximum pressure” policy and throw their support behind a multilateral agreement. And yet it is discouraging to see these candidates articulate their intentions towards Iran exclusively within the paradigm of the JCPOA and its ability to curtail Iran’s nuclear program. This fixation on non-proliferation overlooks the fact that in the course of the coming political season in Iran, the JCPOA will likely become too toxic to serve as the crux of a reoriented US policy on Iran, even if the policy of diplomatic engagement with the West remains viable and even if Iran technically remains in compliance.

What if Democrats pointed to their readiness for a deeper reckoning with the failure of the JCPOA? Would it not be so much more meaningful for a Democratic candidate to declare, “We let the Iranian people down when we reimposed sanctions on them while their government was still in compliance with the JCPOA. Our mission should be to restore trust so that Iranians can count on America to honor its obligations.”

Earlier this week, President Hassan Rouhani gave an important speech in which he underlined that he is a “man of negotiation” but emphasized that negotiations are impossible until the United States essentially shows Iran due respect. As American proponents of engagement with Iran look to the future, they must recognize that the failure of the JCPOA was not encompassed in the decision of the Trump administration to withdraw, but rather in the set of cascading institutional failures that allowed the administration to drastically shift the nature of U.S. policy towards Iran, as well as towards the remaining parties of the JCPOA, without paying any real political cost. The Democrats, and all who care about the integrity of American foreign policy, must reckon with these failures. A willingness to do so is far more important than reentering a moribund deal as a matter of political reflex.

Until American policymakers can conceive of relations with Iran as something more than a set of tactical accommodations designed to address threat perceptions, they are unlikely to solve the question of Iranian proliferation decisively. Proponents of engagement must make sure that they are building a bridge to help Iranians cross from short-term turmoil to the long-term prosperity they have been regrettably denied. Non-proliferation is just one pillar of this bridge.

Photo: Depositphoto