Power Of the People

When a million people showed up on Revolution Avenue in downtown Tehran to protest the results of the June 12 presidential election, most of them wore sneakers, in case they had to run for their lives. The crowd included people of all walks and ages. Students holding posters that read LIES FORBIDDEN walked side by side with chadori housewives, heavily made-up young girls, manual laborers, middle-aged government workers and the elderly. They didn't chant insulting slogans, and there were few police in sight. Beneath the placid surface simmered frustration and anger--but also traces of hope. "People have come out because they've finally had enough. They're tired of all the lies that [President Mahmoud] Ahmadinejad has dished out," said Massoumeh, 46, who brought her two young daughters to the march. (Like most other Iranians I talked to, she did not want to give her full name.) "They can see the difference between what is being said and what is happening."

The popular revolt that spread across the country in the days after the election has been as startling to ordinary Iranians as to the authorities trying to suppress it. Not since the Islamic revolution of 1979 has Tehran seen such spontaneous outpourings of emotion. Within hours of the announcement of the election results, Tehranis developed their own sign language of dissent. People passing one another stretched hands in peace signs. Drivers on jam-packed streets honked their horns in protest. Apartment dwellers climbed to their rooftops to shout "Allahu akbar" and "Death to dictator!"--a gesture last seen three decades ago. When the regime blocked the Internet and cell-phone networks, demonstrators organized their rallies by word of mouth. It was democracy in action. "The amazing thing is that this movement has no leader," said Sima, 40, a book editor in Tehran. "Sure, people support [opposition presidential candidate Mir-Hossein] Mousavi, but the real reason they're here is to protest against the fraud."

It's not yet clear where the movement is headed. The regime has crushed challenges to its authority before, most recently in 1999, when students poured into the streets to protest the closing of a reformist newspaper, prompting the government to unleash vigilantes on them. The state deployed its shock troops again this time: members of the Basij, a pro-Ahmadinejad paramilitary group, stormed dormitories at Tehran University, reportedly killing five students and detaining hundreds. At least one demonstrator was killed when a Basiji opened fire on a crowd. There are eyewitness reports of deaths from clashes across Iran. Yet no matter what transpires--whether the government bows to the demands for change or launches a bloodier crackdown--Iran will never be the same. The election and its aftermath exposed the cynicism of the country's leaders but also revealed the determination of millions of Iranians to reach for a future that suddenly seems within their grasp.