As the dawn of election day approached in Iraq, the country was once again entering one of those suspended moments between hope and fear as though it were collectively holding its breath in anticipation of a new political test that is repeated every few years but never loses its intensity.
It was the sixth parliamentary election held in Iraq since the 2003 US-led invasion and is considered a test of the country’s fragile stability.
Streets in towns and cities across the country of 46 million people that have been crowded for weeks with candidates’ posters were gradually emptying as the elections approached, while the candidates and their teams retreated into closed rooms, exchanging last-minute calls and counting the remaining hours in hopes of influencing the election’s outcome.
Despite the scepticism, more than 7,740 candidates, nearly a third of them women, are running for the 329-seat parliament.
In cafés, gathering places, and across WhatsApp groups, the same unanswered question echoed: would these elections be any different from the ones that have taken place before? The question seems simple, but in Iraq it carries layers of accumulated disappointments and postponed attempts at change.
Some place their hopes on the rise of new forces or youthful faces; others believe the political game is already predetermined by long-standing alignments, and that the ballot box alone cannot break a rigid system of political and financial power.
The final hours before elections always have a distinct pulse in Iraq. They are moments charged with expectations and doubts: candidates keep making calls until the very last minute, reassuring their bases and directing their supporters towards polling centres. Meanwhile, local and international monitoring teams spread across the provinces, tracking public sentiment and watching for any sign of tension, especially in areas marked by fierce competition or local struggles for influence.
In Baghdad, as in the southern, western, and northern provinces of the country, security measures intensify noticeably as the “election silence” begins. And although the law bans campaigning in the lead-up to the elections, silence is hardly enforceable in a world dominated by social media.
Rumours and leaks continued to flow, and messages encouraged participation, urged boycotts, or warned of fraud. Amid all this, Iraqi voters remained suspended between a desire for change and a fear of repetition.
Polling stations opened at 7:00 am local time (0400 GMT) and closed at 6:00 pm (1500 GMT) on 11 November, with preliminary results expected within 24 hours of closing.
Inside the Independent High Electoral Commission (IHEC) the anxiety was rising. The staff are trained to handle potential malfunctions in electronic counting devices, and there was talk of logistical preparations stretching towards dawn, checking equipment, redistributing sensitive materials, and responding quickly to reports coming from the provinces.
The concerns were not merely technical. There was a real fear of voter apathy and of a low turnout, undermining the legitimacy of the results or inviting political challenges. Despite its preparations, the Commission appeared trapped between party pressures, public expectations, and realities on the ground.
Throughout the weeks of campaigning, Iraqis engaged in broad debates about the candidates, their programmes, and past experiences. In popular neighbourhoods as well as universities and cafés, a clear divide emerged.
On the one side, many young people said that “we will vote to change reality, even if by just a step.” On the other side, many refused to participate, insisting that “the ballot box doesn’t change outcomes; it only legitimises them.”
These contradictions form an accurate picture of the Iraqi mood: a blend of old frustration and cautious hope, a tug-of-war between the desire to participate and the fear that one’s vote may simply reinforce a political class that controls power and wealth.
Political analyst Abdul-Ameer Al-Majar likened these moments to spectators watching a player step up to take a penalty kick in a football game. “Despite the tremendous efforts the competing forces have invested to convince the public, using various methods including sectarian, ethnic, and other appeals, no one has absolute certainty of victory,” he told Al-Ahram Weekly.
But he thought that the Reconstruction and Development Coalition led by Prime Minister Mohamed Shia’ Al-Sudani “is the frontrunner due to the tangible achievements of the past three years.”
Regarding the leak of a meeting some weeks ago between Al-Sudani and Mark Savaya, envoy of US President Donald Trump to Iraq, Al-Majar said that the timing strongly suggested an attempt at “political defamation and emotional manipulation,” adding that Al-Sudani’s rivals were likely behind it.
As the sun rose on 11 November, the features of election day became clearer. The scene would have been familiar to a country accustomed to elections, yet it was still tinged with tensions, as scattered lines formed in front of polling centres dominated by the elderly, state employees, and party loyalists.
The youth turnout was modest, with some voting out of duty, some under family pressure, and many remaining indifferent. Black SUVs roamed certain neighbourhoods carrying party observers or “coordinators” communicating voter turnout to their headquarters hour by hour.
Online, bursts of enthusiasm mixed with dark humour and sarcasm, reflecting an awareness that the same faces tend to return with every electoral cycle.
By midday, the first reports had surfaced of “pressure on voters” or “scuffles near polling stations,” mostly routine incidents in highly competitive areas. In some provinces, images showed nearly empty polling centres where public trust in the political process had eroded.
The major parties began broadcasting early victory signals, releasing initial turnout numbers through “private sources,” some of them real but most of them part of the psychological warfare that recurs with every cycle.
Two days earlier, special voting had taken place for members of the security forces and displaced people. The IHEC announced a turnout of around 82 per cent for these, with a notable increase in the Iraqi Kurdistan Region.
No official results were released, but some early analyses indicated an advantage for Al-Sudani’s Coalition, while others said the advantage was with the Coordination Framework, both competing fiercely.
The elections seemed set to unfold without dramatic surprises, amid a flood of leaks and speculation that could shape the next government without altering the balance of power.
On election day, there was mostly silence, as some youths in Baghdad and other provinces tore down posters to salvage the metal rods for sale or household use. One scene stood out – the posters of Iraqi Shia cleric Muqtada Al-Sadr had remained untouched, bearing the single word “boycott.”
The posters are a clear declaration of the Sadrist Movement’s view that the political process in Iraq has veered off course and that external influences and corruption prevent the true representation of the Iraqi people.
The movement’s absence has been a heavy factor in the electoral equation, and its influence is felt even with the boycott.
As the polling centres closed on the evening of election day, the most delicate phase began. One party claimed the lead, while another cast doubt on its statements, and the IHEC issued initial statements confirming or denying rumours that had circulated for hours.
Party offices turned into command rooms, phones never stopped ringing, and behind the scenes the first lines of the negotiation for the formation of the new government were being drawn up, with these going beyond the announced numbers to the deeper calculus of alliances and power balances.
In homes across the country, voices could be heard rising not in anger or celebration, but in pure anxiety. WhatsApp groups, family circles, and crowded cafés were all awaiting the results.
In Iraq, elections are not just an ordinary day or a democratic ritual; they are a test of the state’s legitimacy and an examination of the people’s ability to safeguard the political process from deviation or collapse.
It is clear that this year’s election day is not the end of the road but is the beginning of a new series of questions and challenges. Can Iraq regain its balance? Can the state build a just political system free from sectarianism and patronage? Will the people’s votes translate into policies or remain mere numbers used to divide up power?
In the final hours of this year’s elections, Iraq appeared not only as a country heading to vote, but as a nation searching for itself among the ballot boxes.
* A version of this article appears in print in the 13 November, 2025 edition of Al-Ahram Weekly
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