Iran in a hopeful mood over President-elect Rouhani

TEHRAN — On the bustling lanes outside this capital’s expansive bazaar, a sense of hope is palpable as Iran’s president-elect, Hassan Rouhani, prepares to take office next month.

Even hardened cynics speak about the possibility of a brighter economic horizon and the prospective easing of international sanctions that have throttled growth, spurred inflation and fostered a general malaise.

“It’s not in my genes to vote,” Ismael, a tea hawker and chess devotee, said as he poured cups of steaming tea for bazaar denizens and tradesmen. “But I am confident of a better economic situation once sanctions are lifted.”

Ismael said he had become so discouraged by Islamic rule that a few years ago he took the radical step of converting to the ancient faith of Zoroastrianism, a switch that earned him a jail term.

Throughout Iran, enthusiasm appears robust for Rouhani, who swept to a surprising landslide victory in last month’s election with pledges of change and reform. The fact that he is a cleric and mainstay of the religious-political establishment not known for progressive views — and someone who isn’t considered an economic expert — doesn’t seem to have dimmed the fervor that erupted in street celebrations after his election was confirmed.

Many Iranians apparently are eager to get past the gloom and bluster that defined the eight-year administration of outgoing President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.

Anticipation of recovery and a shift in tone are evident from the warrens of Tehran’s central bazaar to the capital’s stylish coffee bars to the gardens and historical sites in the ancient city of Shiraz to the south.

Ahmadinejad seemed to revel in polemical salvos, targeting both the West and his political adversaries at home, but Rouhani has adopted moderation and change as his motto.

“Iranians chose a new path,” the centrist said in his first official comments after his election. “Iranians voted for moderation and logic.”

Rouhani also has said that compromise with the international community about difficult issues, notably Iran’s controversial nuclear program, would not amount to capitulation.

“Moderation in foreign policy is neither surrender nor conflict, neither passivity nor confrontation,” he said. “Moderation is effective and constructive interaction with the world.”

At an artsy cafe in Tehran, young people disenchanted with what they view as the grim dominion of the mullahs seemed eager for a more open era.

“Maybe now the police won’t hassle us so much,” said Siavash, a long-haired guitarist in his 20s, strumming tunes like “Hotel California” and “Oh! Susanna” with a makeshift band as admiring young women hummed along. Like many Iranians interviewed recently, he wanted only his first name used, fearing potential reprisal.

Siavash and his friends were jamming on a shaded patch of grass across the street from the former U.S. Embassy, now a Revolutionary Guard Corps compound where graffiti on the exterior walls proclaim “Stomp on America!” The student-led seizure of the site in 1979 resulted in a 444-day hostage drama that still colors U.S.-Iranian relations.

Noticeably absent in the capital after Rouhani’s election were the much-resented morality police, who look askance at freewheeling public gatherings of young men and women.

About 500 miles to the south in Shiraz, at the lush gardens of the tomb of the revered Persian poet Saadi, a waiter named Ali despaired at the plight of Iran’s many well-educated people unable to find good jobs.

“Many young in this country cannot afford to get married,” said Ali, 30, who voted for Rouhani. He said he was hopeful of progress but not delusional. “We have been living on hope for 34 years,” he said, referring to the 1979 Islamic Revolution.

At Tehran’s highly choreographed Friday prayers, chants of “Death to America!” remain a constant. But many Iranians not connected with the government indicated that for many people, economic well-being has trumped reflexive hostility toward the West.

Even many who favored more conservative candidates voiced hope that the new president will break the stranglehold of sanctions, restore the value of Iran’s currency, help create jobs and rein in inflation.

“I didn’t vote for Rouhani, but I do believe he can do something about these soaring prices,” said Hossian, 28, a laborer and father of a young child who was reclining on lush carpets in the sprawling, air-conditioned mausoleum of the late Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, founder of the revolution, whose immense shrine in the southern reaches of the capital is a pilgrimage site for revolutionary die-hards.

“I have to work hard just to make ends meet,” said Hossian, who was visiting from the industrial town of Gorgan, near the Caspian Sea.

Back at the rambling bazaar, Sina, 30, said the dearth of employment opportunities had led him to find work in one sector that seems to be flourishing: sanctions-busting. He said he helps import smuggled aircraft parts, one of many items in short supply because of international bans.

“I think Rouhani was brought to the scene to get the sanctions lifted,” said Sina, a slim man who was among the people working their side deals outside the bazaar’s entrance. “Otherwise the survival of the ruling establishment is jeopardized.”

But with hopes so high, Rouhani’s allies have hastened to emphasize that a chief of state can do only so much. Some fear a crisis of dashed expectations, especially since Rouhani’s efforts will be subject to veto from Iran’s hard-line supreme leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, who has the last word on foreign policy and security issues, such as Iran’s nuclear program.

Former reformist President Mohammad Khatami, whose election in 1997 ushered in a similar period of hope for reform, has already advised Iranians not to look for a quick turnaround in the nation’s economic predicament.

“Be cautious, there is no rush, do not expect too much,” Khatami, who helped engineer Rouhani’s victory, said last week in one of a number of public statements designed to tamp down expectations.

There are, of course, pessimists, like Parviz, 68, a chain-smoking artisan encountered in the doorway of his Tehran apartment building along a once-notorious street called Lazar-e-Nou, home to cabarets, cafes and all-night bars before the revolution and now a drab strip that houses mostly shops selling fixtures for lamps. Some shuttered movie houses still bear scorch marks from the arson attacks that militants carried out after the revolution.

“The ones in charge now are so entrenched they will never give up power,” said Parviz, who recalled the days when men and women held hands in public after evenings spent in the bistros and cinemas. “Look at the faces of the people: No one is smiling today.”

Rouhani appears to have noticed too.

“I assure you that the ideals of the Islamic Republic of Iran did not include the suppression of joy and jubilation,” he told an Iranian youth magazine.

In his first major postelection speech, he seemed to acknowledge that the dour style of top-heavy leadership had gone too far.

“Happiness,” he said, “is our people’s right.”

Mostaghim is a special correspondent. Times staff writer Patrick J. McDonnell in Beirut contributed to this report.