The Myth of Popular Legitimacy in Iran: When Power Is Claimed from Hearts but Enforced with Guns

On July 23, 2025, during a session of the Iranian regime parliament, Speaker Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf made a statement that captured headlines for its lofty idealism and sharp disconnect from reality. He declared:

“The foundation of the power of the Velayat-e Faqih [Guardianship of the Islamic Jurist] is not missiles—it is the heart of each and every citizen.”

This rhetorical flourish might suggest a regime grounded in popular support. But beneath the surface of such poetic claims lies a far more troubling truth: the Iranian regime rules not by affection or consent, but by coercion and control. Ghalibaf’s words, rather than revealing national unity, expose the regime’s need to manufacture legitimacy where none exists.

The phrase “each and every citizen” seems to reference Iran’s entire population—roughly 89 million people. Subtracting minors under 18 leaves about 73 million adults who could be considered politically engaged or eligible to vote. If the regime truly enjoyed the backing of this population, its need for military force, widespread surveillance, and systemic repression would seem unnecessary. But everything about the Iranian regime’s behavior says otherwise.

Recent elections reveal how far this supposed “popular support” has collapsed. In 2021, even by official counts, turnout in the presidential election dropped to just 40%—a historic low. By the 2024 snap election, participation had plummeted further. President Masoud Pezeshkian openly admitted that the prospect of only 8% voter turnout initially spurred him to run, out of fear that such a number would devastate the regime’s image. That fear was well-founded: the electorate is not expressing trust in the system—it is actively withdrawing from it.

The Iranian people have not simply disengaged at the ballot box. They have risen in revolt, time and again. Over the past 26 years, Iran has witnessed at least four major national uprisings. In each case, protesters didn’t call for reform; they called for the end of the regime itself. These movements—most recently the 2022 revolt sparked by the killing of Jina Mahsa Amini—were met not with dialogue, but with mass arrests and violent repression. Following the 2022 protests, the regime admitted to detaining over 110,000 people, a number that should shock any state that claims to be loved by its people.

The slogans chanted during these uprisings further dismantle the fiction of popular affection. “Our enemy is right here—not in America,” has echoed in cities across the country. People have demanded justice for stolen assets and condemned a system they see as corrupt, oppressive, and indifferent to their suffering. These are not signs of hearts aligned with leadership—they are the cries of a population demanding an end to tyranny.

Meanwhile, millions have left. According to the Iranian Statistical Center in 2021, more than 8 million Iranians live abroad, many fleeing political persecution, lack of opportunity, or deteriorating living conditions. The growing Iranian diaspora is not evidence of a globally respected system—it is the human cost of disillusionment.

Rather than embrace the people it claims to serve, the regime continues to treat them as a threat. In the aftermath of the 12-day Iran-Israel war, military and security forces have been placed on high alert across the country. State media reports that the IRGC and police are rotating shifts at urban intersections, operating as if under siege. Just days ago, Judiciary Chief Gholam-Hossein Mohseni-Eje’i announced the arrest of thousands more, part of what critics are calling a new wave of pre-emptive crackdowns.

Alongside these arrests, executions are increasing. The regime’s “love-based legitimacy” is being enforced through a campaign of state-sponsored fear, not citizen devotion.

And perhaps the most revealing silence is on the topic of referendums. If the regime truly believes it has the people’s backing, why not put it to a test? A national referendum on the structure of the regime or the principle of Velayat-e Faqih has been proposed many times—by activists, dissidents, and even former officials. Yet the regime has consistently refused to entertain the idea. It is as if it fears the truth its own rhetoric claims to know.

So when Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf says that the regime’s strength comes not from missiles but from the hearts of the people, one is left to ask: Why, then, are the streets filled with guns, prisons crowded with dissenters, and media outlets reporting nightly executions?

The answer is simple. The regime speaks of hearts, but governs through handcuffs. Its legitimacy is not drawn from the will of the people, but from their enforced silence. To claim otherwise is not only delusional—it is dangerously dishonest.