Iranians have in recent months looked for opportunities to resist the clerical government’s rules. Many found an opportunity during Tuesday night’s annual fire festival.

Across Iran, thousands of men and women filled the streets as they danced wildly to music and joyfully jumped over large bonfires, according to to videos on social media and interviews with Iranians. Police said crowds in Tehran and other cities were so heavy that traffic came to a standstill for hours and commuters struggled to reach public transport, according to Iranian news reports.

Dancing, especially for men and women together, is banned in public in Iran and has long been a form of protest.

In many places the rallies turned political, with the crowds chanting: “Freedom, freedom, freedom,” “Death to the dictator” and “Get lost, clerics,” he said. videos and interviews with participants. In the city of Rasht in northern Iran, crowds of security guards riding past on motorcycles booed. videos shown.

Iranians celebrated the ancient Persian tradition of Chaharshanbeh Suri before the upcoming new year, Nowruz, which falls on the first day of spring. During a ritual on the eve of the last Wednesday of the year, people jump over the fire to cleanse the spirit of the malaise of the old year and accept the glow of the flames in preparation for the new year.

The dancing crowd was another example of how far away much of Iranian society, especially the youth, has moved from the ruling clerics. “People are so happy, if God wants the overthrow of the Islamic Republic,” a narrator of the celebrations in the city of Karaj said in a video published by BBC Persian.

When the revolution overthrew the monarchy in 1979, the new spiritual rulers proclaimed an Islamic theocracy and for years discouraged and even cracked down on Persian celebrations that predated Islam, including Chaharshanbeh Suri. But Iranians continued to celebrate the ritual, which they consider an inseparable part of Iranian culture.

“Celebrating Persian holidays and holding joyful gatherings have become inherently political, which is why we also see anti-government slogans,” said Nahid Siamdoust, assistant professor of media and Middle East studies at the University of Texas at Austin. “These festivities unite Iranians across the country and offer people the opportunity to demonstrate a sociality that contradicts the state-imposed culture.”

In some apartment complexes in Tehran and other cities, DJs played Persian pop songs as packed crowds danced and sang along. videos on social media and BBC Persian. In other places, parked cars blared music from speakers in an open trunk. Young women, with flowing hair in defiance of the mandatory hijab law, danced on top of cars and in groups.

People circled the fire and held hands as they sang “For Women, for Life, for Freedom” from the lyrics of “Baraye,” an anthem of the 2022 women-led uprising. videos shown on BBC Persian. Singer and songwriter Shervin Hajipour won a Grammy Award last year for the song. This month, Iran sentenced Mr. Hajipour to prison. Singing his song Tuesday was a way to show solidarity, said Narges, a 35-year-old in Tehran who asked that her last name not be used for fear of retaliation.

There were reports on social media of sporadic clashes between the crowd and security forces. One video showed it forces that dispersed crowds near Narmak in Tehran by smashing the windows of a cafe where people had gathered to dance.

Every year there are casualties during the festivities due to the unsafe handling of homemade explosives and fireworks. At least 14 people were killed and nearly 1,800 suffered burn injuries, according to official media reports, according to Iran’s emergency center.

Iranians have sharply rebuked Iran’s ruling conservatives, an analysis of the parliamentary elections shows. Millions of Iranians have boycotted the vote and a far-right faction is making notable gains.

Many well-known conservative lawmakers, including the current speaker of parliament, General Mohammad Baqer Ghalibaf, a former Revolutionary Guards commander, saw their vote numbers plummet in last week’s elections and in many cases were defeated in their renewal efforts. -election.

In numerous cities, including the capital Tehran, so many blank votes were cast that some politicians joked that several seats in parliament should remain empty due to the lack of votes.

Perhaps even more striking was the emergence of many ultraconservative candidates. In Tehran, these included a young state television personality, Amir Hossein Sabeti, who had no political experience and denied that the coronavirus pandemic was real; a cleric, Mahmoud Nabavian, who opposed Iran’s nuclear deal with world powers and said the country needs nuclear weapons to confront Israel; and another cleric, Hamid Rasai, who said protesters of the massive 2022 female-led uprising, as well as one of Iran’s most famous actresses, should be executed.

Iran is a theocracy with a parallel system of government in which elected bodies are overseen by appointed councils. Major state policies in nuclear, military and foreign affairs are determined by the Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, and the Supreme National Security Council, while the Revolutionary Guard has extensive influence over the economy and politics.

Parliament’s influence is limited and focuses mainly on social and economic issues. But parliamentary elections remain important as indicators of public sentiment, which in this case has affected the ruling clerical and military elite and the system as a whole, analysts say.

“In the bigger picture, we are witnessing a crisis of representation,” Abolfazl Hajizadegan, a leading sociologist in Tehran, said in an interview, adding that the voter boycott had spread and tapped into the frustrations of a diverse economic and social class. “It seems that all professional politicians and current political groups and parties are losing their credibility and reputation.”

Voter turnout is a key indicator of support for the government, although critics accuse officials of artificially inflating the totals. The Interior Ministry, which is leading the elections, said 41 percent of eligible voters had cast ballots across the country and blank votes made up just 8 percent. Turnout in Tehran was around 25 percent, according to the ministry, while other major cities reported around 30 percent.

In contrast, more than 70 percent of the 56 million eligible Iranians cast their votes when President Hassan Rouhani was elected in 2017.

Prominent activists, politicians and dissidents, including imprisoned Nobel Peace Prize laureate Narges Mohammadi, had called on Iranians to boycott the vote as a form of protest. Many ordinary Iranians followed suit, saying in interviews and on social media posts that they had become disillusioned after years of enthusiastically voting in previous elections for candidates who promised change but failed to deliver.

Since Friday’s elections, Iran’s already battered currency has fallen further against the dollar, a grim sign of inflation and dwindling purchasing power for Iranians already suffering from an economy under pressure from US sanctions and corruption.

Senior Iranian officials appeared unfazed by the rise and rejection of establishment candidates. Mr Khamenei, who had urged people to turn out and vote, said the election represented an “epic” victory over Iran’s enemies.

But others, including some public figures, openly mocked this claim. A former conservative president, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, who has become an outspoken critic of the government, said in a video that the official spin on the election made him feel sorry for himself and the country.

“What victory?” he asked. “To cast aside the people is not a victory, it is the greatest defeat.”

Voters’ dissatisfaction also emerged in a separate election for the Assembly of Experts, an 88-member administrative body that will ultimately appoint a successor to Mr. Khamenei after he dies. Three prominent clerics with decades of leadership roles at the intelligence, justice and interior ministries were voted out, including Sadegh Amoli Larijani, the scion of an influential political family and the chairman of an appointed council that oversees the government’s work.

Many Iranians, including analysts and politicians, expressed skepticism about the government’s numbers, both in terms of participation and blank ballots. They said the empty polling stations, widespread apathy and anger, and reports leaked to the Iranian news media of much higher numbers of empty ballots indicated that the government was manipulating the numbers to save face.

Saeed Shariati, a political analyst and member of a reformist political party, said in an interview from Tehran that blank ballots also represented a kind of protest vote. If they were subtracted from the total votes, the actual turnout would be around 30 percent nationally, he said.

“I really hope that the country’s message is heard and understood, but my experience proves otherwise,” Mr Shariati said.

Iran’s semi-official Mehr News Agency said 12 percent of ballots in Tehran were blank. Tehran’s top candidate, Mr. Nabavian, the cleric who called for the development of nuclear weapons, received about half a million votes, according to official results, a number that represented only a small fraction of the vote in a city of about 10 people. million.

About 45 of Parliament’s 290 seats remained undecided this week as leading candidates failed to secure 20 percent of the total eligible votes, the threshold needed to be elected. The Interior Ministry said a runoff for those seats would take place in April or May.

Elections in Iran have never been free and fair, compared to the standards of democratic countries, because candidates undergo a strict vetting process monitored by the government. But they had remained competitive and unpredictable to some extent until 2020, when the Conservatives sought to consolidate power.

More candidates were disqualified in this month’s elections. The Reformist Front, the umbrella party of the reformist factions, says it has no candidates for the elections. The competition was mainly between conservatives. And that has consequences for the composition of parliament.

“We are witnessing a radicalization of parliament. A smaller minority of extremists will rule over a majority of people who are fed up and want complete change,” said Aliakbar Mousavi Khoeini, a former Iranian lawmaker from the reformist faction now in exile in the United States.

Former President Mohammad Khatami, the founder of the reform movement, surprised the public by not voting. At a meeting with members of his political party on Tuesday, Mr Khatami said he too boycotted the vote because he wanted to be on the side of the people and not lie.

“We can say based on the official figures that the majority of Iranians are dissatisfied with the status quo and the current administration and this gives us little hope for the future,” Mr Khatami said, according to a transcript of his remarks published in the Iranian. news media.

Leily Nikounazar contributed reporting from Belgium.

Iran held parliamentary elections on Friday, but despite last-minute efforts by officials to boost turnout with pleas on social media and roses at polling stations, many people stayed away from the vote in protest against the government, witnesses said. interviews and news reports.

In the capital Tehran, turnout was estimated at 11 percent, and across the country the turnout was around 30 percent to 40 percent, even as polling stations extended their opening hours to 10 p.m. from 8 p.m., according to news reports and the hard numbers. line up with parliamentary candidate Ali Akbar Raefipour a message on social media.

The current speaker of parliament, General Mohammad Ghalibaf, a Revolutionary Guards commander who is running for re-election on a conservative ticket, took to the social media platform X on Friday to implore people to call at least ten others. and encourage them to vote.

“It is not just winning the elections that matters, increasing participation is also a priority,” said General Ghalibaf said in his post.

Many ordinary Iranians are fed up with a faltering economy – and the government’s oppressive regulations violent repressions about peaceful protests – their demands for change go far beyond what the existing political parties, with their reformist and conservative factions, offer.

Before the vote, Calls for a widespread boycott of the elections had gained momentum, with prominent activists and dissidents encouraging Iranians to turn the occasion into an anti-government protest. The prisoners Nobel Peace Prize winner Narges Mohammadi said in a statement that boycotting the vote was a “moral obligation.”

In protests that broke out in 2022 in the wake of Mahsa Amini’s death while men and women under the auspices of the moral police chanted for an end to cleric rule in Iran with the slogan “Reformists, conservatives, the game is over.”

“This system has done nothing positive to improve people’s lives,” said Marziyeh, a 59-year-old woman from the southwestern city of Ahvaz who, like many interviewed, insisted on giving only her first name for fear of retaliation.

Fromer President Mohammad Khatami, father of the Reform Party, did not vote, according to his former vice president Mohammad-Ali Abtahi. This was the first time Mr Khatami had chaired an election. He was apparently the highest-ranking politician in Iran to boycott the vote.

The Reformist Front, a coalition of parties, said there were no candidates in the race and called it a “pointless, uncompetitive and ineffective election.”

In recent years, elections in Iran have been competitive and participation has exceeded 50 percent. But on Friday, amid falling turnout, state television tried to tell a different story.

It showed selected polling stations in Tehran where officials cast their ballots and government supporters lined up to vote, showing their ID cards to the camera. State television also showed polling stations in smaller towns where voters could cast their votes.

President Ebrahim Raisi said on state television after casting his vote that the elections were a “symbol of national cohesion and unity, and all political groups came today with their candidates to celebrate a glorious day for the Iranian nation. ”

Hatef Salehi, 38, an analyst employed by the Tehran Municipality, said in an interview: “I voted because I still think that the best way to change the political and social system from radicalization is through gradual reforms and the ballot box.”

But residents in several locations – major cities like Tehran, Isfahan and Shiraz and smaller towns like Sari and Larijan – said in interviews that polling stations in their neighborhoods were largely empty and that only the government’s most loyal supporters had turned out to vote. , while many other Iranians choose not to leave their homes.

A 23-year-old university student in Tehran who asked that his name not be used for fear of retaliation said he and his friends did not vote because “prisoners don’t vote for their prison guards.”

Separate elections were held for the Assembly of Experts, an 88-member spiritual body responsible for appointing, advising and monitoring the supreme leader. The upcoming meeting is expected to appoint the successor to the current supreme leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, who is 84 and has served in the role for more than three decades.

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New ways to attract voters to the vote were on display in Tehran. At the monumental Hosseinieh Ershad, a religious and cultural center that serves as a polling station, a man handed out long-stemmed roses to people waiting in line. A young couple appeared in their wedding clothes. And downtown, a pop singer organized a concert at Talar Vahdat, a cultural venue that became a polling place for artists, musicians and actors.

At a news conference on Friday, Mohsen Eslami, the spokesman for the country’s election headquarters, named a handful of provinces as leading in turnout. But they were mainly smaller provinces such as Kohgiluyeh and Boyer Ahmad, in the west, and Kerman, in the east, and Qom, the government’s religious stronghold, in the center of the country.

The Conservatives are expected to win and maintain their hold on parliament. They are virtually unchallenged, as most of their rivals from independent, centrist and reformist political factions were disqualified from the race.

Official results are expected within a few days, although officials are known to announce results by province within 24 hours.

Despite the reformist factions having no candidates on the ballot, divisions emerged among members, with some prominent figures showing up to vote, including Behzad Nabavi and Mohammad Reza Aref.

Saeid Nourmohammadi, the spokesman for the Neday-e-Iranian party, which identifies as reformist, said his party supported about 30 candidates it considered more centrist and close to the reformists.

“Historically, we have not gained anything by boycotting the elections,” Mr. Nourmohammadi said. “Even if there is no possibility of winning the elections, we still have to make efforts to win some seats in parliament.”

A 40-year-old engineer named Mahdiyeh from Tehran said she had participated in every election until a few years ago, but the candidates she supported had failed to bring about any tangible changes. She said she wasn’t going to vote this time.

“Right now I’m not going to vote,” she said in an interview. “I can’t find a candidate who could possibly represent me.”

Sanaz Toossi had just gone through security at the San Francisco airport when her cell phone rang Monday afternoon. It was her agent who told the 31-year-old playwright that she had won the Pulitzer Prize for drama for “English”, her first produced play.

Toossi, who had written the piece as a graduation project at New York University, was incredulous. “I asked, ‘Are you sure?’ And when she said, ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘Can you please double check?’”

The prize was real, and as Toossi boarded a plane to Los Angeles, her phone started buzzing with congratulations not only from the United States, but also from Iran, where her parents were born and where the play is set.

Recently named Best New American Play by Off Broadway’s Obie Awards, ‘English’ is a moving and period comedy drama about a small group of adults in Karaj, Iran – Toossi’s mother’s hometown – who are preparing for the test. of English as a foreign language. The Pulitzers called it “a quietly powerful piece,” saying of the characters that “family separations and travel restrictions push them to learn a new language that can change their identities and also represent a new life.”

Born and raised in Orange County, California, Toossi spoke Farsi at home with her family and English outside the home, and she visited Iran regularly as she grew up. In a phone interview on Tuesday, she talked about “English” and the Pulitzer win. These are edited excerpts from the conversation.

How did you come up with the idea for ‘English’?

I think I wrote this play out of anger at the anti-immigrant rhetoric that was and is so pervasive in this country. I am so grateful that my parents were able to emigrate to this country and make something better for themselves and for me. They worked their ass off, and they created beauty where there was none, and it pained me to see them and myself being talked about as if we didn’t belong here.

What is the play about?

It’s about the pain of being misunderstood, and how language and identity are intertwined.

You are a writer and you have written a play about language. What have you learned about words?

I feel incredibly insecure about both my English and Farsi speaking skills – I feel like I know 50 percent of each language, and I feel like I always bomb job interviews because the words never come to me the way I that wants to come to me. Of course, this piece was so much about my parents and immigrants and hoping that we can give grace to people who try to express themselves in a language they didn’t grow up with, but I think it was also a reminder to be kind to myself.

What’s it like watching the play with an audience that is presumably largely non-Iranian-American?

It’s a bit of torture to watch your play with an audience around you. I just watch them watch the play. I remember when we did it in New York it was hard to feel like we were laughing wrong some nights. But I’m also really moved by the non-Iranian audience that has come to the play and got into it themselves. That’s what you ask of an audience, and that’s great.

As the play plays across the country, you create more work for Iranian-American artists. Was that a motivation?

I grew up watching media where I was incredibly frustrated with our representation and the roles we were offered. I know so many actors in our community, and they are so incredibly talented, and it was frustrating to feel like their talents weren’t put to good use. I wanted to work with them and I wanted to give them roles that they loved. It was very important to me to make this part funny because I didn’t want to shut our actors out for big laughs.

In previous interviews you have talked about the fear of being pigeonholed.

I don’t know if that fear will ever go away. I’m so proud to be Iranian and to be able to tell these stories, and I just keep hoping that if I turn in an assignment that isn’t about Iran, it will be just as exciting.

You do some television work. Are you a member of the Writers Guild of America? Are you on strike?

I’m on strike. I was on the picket line last week. I am incredibly proud to be a WGA member. I love theater – theater is my first love, and my greatest love – but I can’t live off theater. If I could, I would give myself completely to the theatre. But the WGA meant that I had health insurance during Covid and I pay my rent. I’ll be on the picket line this week too, and however long it takes. That’s how we subsidize our theater making for so many playwrights.

What’s next for you?

This year I had to ask myself if what we’re doing is important. The people of Iran are in the middle of a women-led revolution and they are putting their lives on the line. I wonder who I would be if we never left, and I wonder if I would leave my roosari [head scarf] falling back knowing it could mean my life. But I really, really believe that theater is important – I was changed by theater, and theater imagined a better future for me when my imagination failed me. So I don’t know what’s next, but I just hope that in this year of so much pain and bloodshed, I hope this is a signal to Iranians that our stories matter and that we are being listened to. And soon I hope we can play this piece in Iran.