The Mood From Tehran

TEHRAN—Almost immediately after Iranian authorities announced that President Ebrahim Raisi had died on May 19, black mourning flags were raised across Tehran. Residents in the capital awoke the following day to giant banners on most street corners depicting the late leader with poems and flattering language about him.

Campaign posters are expected to follow soon: According to Iran’s constitution, a new president must be chosen within 50 days of a leader’s death. The vote to elect Raisi’s successor is scheduled for June 28. On Sunday, Interior Minister Ahmad Vahidi officially opened the presidential election season, ordering Iran’s provinces and cities to set up headquarters and committees to run elections within three days. Candidates can register between May 30 and June 3, the country’s Election Headquarters announced.

All candidates must be vetted by the Guardian Council, a 12-member clerical government body, before a two-week campaigning period starts on June 12. The new president will serve a full four-year term after his inauguration.

Saeed Jalili, a hard-liner and Iran’s former chief nuclear negotiator, is considered one of the contenders for the presidency, as is the current acting president, Mohammad Mokhber, who is close to Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei. Former hard-liner President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad told supporters outside his Tehran home that he would consider running. Ali Larijani, the comparatively moderate former speaker of parliament, may also stand in the polls.

Women and children attend the foreign minister’s funeral at the Shah Abdol-Azim shrine in Rey on May 23.

Thousands gather at the Shah Abdol-Azim shrine in Rey for the foreign minister’s funeral on May 23.

The May 19 helicopter crash that killed Raisi also claimed the lives of Foreign Minister Hossein Amir-Abdollahian and six others and triggered five days of mourning—national holidays that culminated in the 63-year-old president’s burial last Thursday at the Imam Reza Shrine in Mashhad, Iran’s holiest site. The funeral drew around 3 million people, according to the city’s mayor. Many traveled from afar by train after a television broadcast advertised free accommodation at hotels and guesthouses. Hamas chief Ismail Haniyeh, who is based in Qatar, visited Tehran on Wednesday for one of Raisi’s funeral processions.

Thousands more gathered at the Shah Abdol-Azim shrine in Rey, a suburb of Tehran, to attend Amir-Abdollahian’s funeral. Chants of “death to Israel, death to America” echoed through the crowds at the shrine, where people waved Iranian, Palestinian, Hezbollah, and Hamas flags. Mourners squeezed tightly into the shrine’s courtyard where, teary-eyed and praying, they threw fresh flowers onto Amir-Abdollahian’s coffin as it arrived for its final rest.

Tahere Mehrabi sits on the floor praying at the foreign minister’s funeral in Rey on May 23.

“We’re bidding farewell,” 45-year-old Tahere Mehrabi said, her hands held up in prayer. “The nation is grieving, but we’re hoping for a bright future. That’s also why I’m heading to the polls,” she added.

Islamic scholar Hamid Rajeri, 45, confirmed his intention to vote but added with disgust that he had also seen a different side of Iran “while the whole country was grieving,” referring to social media posts celebrating Raisi’s death. “These martyrs were popular figures and our people are devastated. Those celebrating are hooligans,” he said.

A man cries at the Shah Abdol-Azim shrine in Rey on May 23.

Raisi’s death has exposed further fissures in Iranian society. While millions grieved, others used the unexpected national holiday for an impromptu vacation, traveling to northern Iran’s mountains. In Tehran, groups of students who lacked the funds for trips gathered in coffee shops and parks, playing card games and drinking hot black tea from thermoses.

“Why should we be sad? We know him as the ‘Butcher of Tehran,’” said an 18-year-old engineering student, her bright pink hair uncovered and her ears decked with piercings. She spoke on the condition of anonymity, fearing identification by the government. In the 1980s, Raisi oversaw mass executions of political prisoners, she added.

People sit at a restaurant in Rey, drinking saffron ice cream floats with carrot juice, on May 23.

Women shop at a bazaar in Rey on May 23.

Under his leadership in 2022, Iran cracked down hard on anti-government protests following the death of 22-year-old Mahsa Amini, who was detained by Iran’s morality police for wearing “improper” clothing and later died in the hospital. “We want justice and political change, but the system is not changing. It’s frustrating,” the student said, sitting on the grass with six of her classmates. When asked if she would vote next month, she shook her head. “Not me, not my friends.”

Raisi, known for his close alignment with the 85-year-old Khamenei, was widely regarded by experts as his potential successor. Raisi assumed office in 2021 after the Guardian Council disqualified several moderate and reformist opponents in that year’s presidential election, triggering record-low voter turnout of 48.8 percent. Experts say that the upcoming election is unlikely to bring significant changes to Iran’s ruling system. Just 41 percent of eligible voters participated in March’s parliamentary election.

“Back in 2021, the supreme leader wanted a true loyalist in power, a supporter of the deep state and the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps,” said Hamidreza Azizi, an expert on Iranian foreign policy and visiting fellow at the German Institute for International and Security Affairs. “Nothing substantial has changed on that front. The government is seeking a safe transition of supreme leaders, so it is unlikely that they will allow outsiders to come in and jeopardize this interest.” Given Khamenei’s age, many are speculating about his health and potential succession.

A giant billboard depicting Raisi towers over a street in Tehran on May 23.

Azizi does not expect significant changes in voter turnout, either. “Even if moderate and reformist candidates are qualified in the upcoming elections—which isn’t guaranteed—I don’t think people will show up in big numbers,” he said. Dislike of the government is also widespread among Iranians, Azizi said. The urban middle class has expressed this sentiment on social media and via social disobedience, such as women’s refusal to wear the mandatory headscarf. Dissatisfaction has grown in smaller, lower-income towns, too, where residents have launched sporadic protests against the government over economic struggles.

“The reality is that all Iranians suffer from economic, social, and political restrictions, and there is no immediate solution in sight—especially as long as foreign sanctions and systemic corruption exist,” Azizi added.

Read More

Raisi’s Funeral Has Exposed the Two Irans

The president’s death has shocked a political system that was designed to survive.

Argument

|

Sina Toossi

However, some experts argue that the upcoming snap election presents an opportunity for change in Iran. “Last time, the Guardian Council disqualified several people, but it appears they will have a more inclusive approach this time, mostly due to the low voter turnout during the 2021 polls and the criticism the council faced,” explained Afifeh Abedi, a reformist parliamentary candidate for the Tehran constituency who ran in Iran’s legislative elections this spring.

With official campaigns set to start on June 12, Abedi hopes that a more inclusive approach to elections and candidate qualification will bring Iranians to the polls—especially in the capital, where voter participation has been lower than in other provinces.

As the mourning period and funerals concluded last Friday, Tehran returned to normalcy, save for the Raisi banners and black flags. Shops were open, and restaurants were packed. Over the weekend, students strolled down the city center’s Enghelab Street, rummaging through bookstores and ordering saffron ice cream floats with carrot juice. In the evenings, dozens of people gathered on a hilltop dubbed the “roof of Tehran” to watch the sun set over the city. Children flew kites, young couples sat listening to music, and families poured cups of tea.

People gather on a hilltop called the “roof of Tehran” to watch the sunset on May 24.

“Between sanctions, politics, and the economy, life isn’t easy here,” a 20-year-old woman said as she sat with her friends after trekking up the hill, staring into the city lights. She, too, spoke on the condition of anonymity to protect her safety. “Many young people want to leave, but after all, this is our country. This is our culture. It’s home—and regardless of the circumstances, leaving home is not easy.”