The person attached to the U.S. will not be a good colleague for you
In the final days before Iran's presidential election, Supreme Leader Ayatollah Khamenei stepped before a religious gathering to do something that transcended ceremony: he attempted to shape the outcome of a vote already shadowed by historic apathy. His hour-long address, cloaked in the language of national resolve and revolutionary purity, was aimed — without naming him — at the only reformist in the race, a heart surgeon who believes Iran's future lies in reconciliation rather than resistance. The moment captures a tension as old as theocracy itself: the struggle between a system's need for legitimacy through participation and its fear of what genuine participation might choose.
- A supreme leader who rarely campaigns has effectively entered the race, using a religious holiday address to delegitimize the one candidate who challenges his foreign policy vision.
- Voter apathy has reached crisis levels — parliamentary elections earlier this year drew record-low turnout, and the 2022 Mahsa Amini protests left deep scars of distrust between citizens and the state.
- Masoud Pezeshkian, a cardiac surgeon few Iranians knew weeks ago, has drawn unexpectedly large crowds by invoking the symbolic language of the 2009 Green Movement and calling for a return to the 2015 nuclear deal.
- Khamenei's speech was almost certainly timed to cast a shadow over the final televised debate, leaving Pezeshkian little time to respond before Friday's vote.
- The central question is unresolved: will the supreme leader's pressure mobilize loyalists, or deepen the alienation of an electorate that has already begun walking away from the system entirely.
Iran's Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, 85, took the stage on Tuesday before a crowd gathered for Eid al-Ghadir — a sacred date in the Shiite calendar — and delivered what amounted to a political intervention. Speaking for an hour, he demanded maximum voter turnout for Friday's presidential election and framed the vote as a test of revolutionary loyalty against foreign enemies. Though he named no one, his target was unmistakable.
That target is Masoud Pezeshkian, a 69-year-old heart surgeon and the race's sole reformist candidate, who has built his campaign on the promise of re-engaging with the West and returning Iran to the 2015 nuclear agreement. Khamenei warned that any leader "attached to the U.S." or harboring "the slightest opposition to the revolution" was unfit to govern. The crowd responded with familiar chants, which Khamenei repeatedly had to quiet.
The election was called after President Ebrahim Raisi — a hard-line Khamenei ally — died in a helicopter crash in May. It arrives at a moment of profound civic exhaustion. Parliamentary elections earlier this year drew record-low turnout, and the 2022 death of Mahsa Amini in morality police custody ignited months of protests that left many Iranians, especially women, openly defiant of the regime's authority.
Against this backdrop, Pezeshkian's campaign has surprised observers. Rallies in Tehran and other cities have drawn large, energized crowds for a candidate who was largely unknown just weeks ago. He has consciously aligned himself with the legacy of the 2009 Green Movement — wearing green scarves, adopting the slogan "For Iran" — signaling reform from within rather than rupture.
Khamenei's remarks appeared timed to precede the final televised debate, leaving Pezeshkian little room to respond before voters go to the polls. Whether the supreme leader's intervention consolidates support among the faithful or further estranges a skeptical electorate remains the defining uncertainty of this election.
Iran's supreme leader took the stage on Tuesday to deliver a stark warning to his country's voters: the presidential election scheduled for Friday was not merely a civic exercise, but a test of national resolve. Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, 85 years old and the highest authority in Iran's theocratic system, spoke for an hour before a crowd gathered to observe Eid al-Ghadir, a significant date in the Shiite calendar. His message was unambiguous. He demanded "maximum" voter participation and framed the election as a struggle against external enemies—a rhetorical move that, while never naming names, was clearly aimed at undermining the race's only reformist contender.
That candidate is Masoud Pezeshkian, a 69-year-old heart surgeon who has built his campaign on a platform of reconciliation with the West. Pezeshkian has called for Iran to rejoin the 2015 nuclear agreement, a deal that Khamenei's government abandoned, and he has advocated for increased diplomatic and economic engagement with Western nations. In his speech, Khamenei attacked this worldview without mentioning Pezeshkian by name. "The person who is attached to the U.S., and imagines that without the U.S. favor it is not possible to move a step in the country, he will not be a good colleague for you," Khamenei said. He went further, declaring that anyone with "the slightest opposition to the revolution" or "the Islamic system" was unfit to lead. The crowd responded with chants of "Death to America, death to Israel," though Khamenei had to ask them to quiet down several times during his remarks.
The timing of Khamenei's intervention reveals the stakes. This election was called after a helicopter crash in May killed President Ebrahim Raisi, a hard-line figure and longtime Khamenei ally. The succession was always going to be consequential, but Khamenei's public pressure on voters suggests anxiety about the outcome. That anxiety is rooted in a concrete problem: voter apathy has reached alarming levels. Earlier this year, parliamentary elections drew record-low turnout as Iranians, exhausted by economic collapse driven by Western sanctions and traumatized by recent waves of anti-government protest, increasingly withdrew from the political process. The 2022 death of Mahsa Amini, a young woman arrested for improper hijab wearing, sparked months of demonstrations and a broader rejection of the regime's authority, particularly among women who have refused to comply with mandatory headscarf requirements.
Yet Pezeshkian, despite being relatively unknown to the Iranian public before entering the race, has managed to generate unexpected momentum. His campaign rallies in Tehran and other major cities have drawn large crowds—a striking development for a candidate who, weeks ago, few Iranians could have named. He has adopted the symbolic language of previous reformist movements, most notably the 2009 Green Movement that erupted after a disputed election and subsequent crackdown. Pezeshkian has been photographed wearing green scarves and has adopted a campaign slogan, "For Iran," that echoes the nationalist messaging of former reformist President Mohammad Khatami. These are calculated moves to position himself within a tradition of change-from-within rather than revolutionary rupture.
Khamenei's speech was almost certainly timed to influence the final televised debate, scheduled to take place shortly after his remarks. Pezeshkian had not publicly responded to the supreme leader's attack as of Tuesday evening, but the debate would provide him a platform to defend his vision against the implicit accusations now in the air. The election itself was set for Friday, leaving little time for the political landscape to shift. What remains unclear is whether Khamenei's intervention will mobilize voters who share his vision of Iran's future, or whether it will further alienate an electorate already skeptical of the system's capacity for meaningful change.
Citações Notáveis
The one who has the slightest opposition to the revolution or the Islamic system is not useful to you.— Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei
The person who is attached to the U.S., and imagines that without the U.S. favor it is not possible to move a step in the country, he will not be a good colleague for you.— Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why did Khamenei feel compelled to speak out now, just days before the election?
Because Pezeshkian is winning crowds in a way that threatens the narrative Khamenei wants to control. A reformist gaining traction when turnout is already collapsing—that's a legitimacy problem for the system.
But Khamenei didn't name Pezeshkian. Doesn't that suggest he's not actually that worried?
The opposite. By not naming him, Khamenei made the attack more powerful. Everyone knows who he meant. It's a way of saying: this man is dangerous without giving him the oxygen of direct engagement.
The crowds chanting "Death to America"—are those genuine expressions or orchestrated?
Probably both. The crowd was gathered for a religious holiday, so there's a built-in constituency. But the chants also serve Khamenei's purpose. They're a reminder of what the regime stands for, especially to voters tempted by Pezeshkian's openness to the West.
What does Pezeshkian actually represent to voters who show up to his rallies?
A way out. Not revolution, but the possibility that Iran could function differently—that you could engage with the world without betraying your country. That's radical in this context.
If voter apathy is so high, does it matter what Khamenei says?
It matters enormously. Low turnout can be shaped by who shows up. If Khamenei's base mobilizes while reformists stay home, the result looks like a mandate even if it's just a fraction of the country voting.