THIS DAY IN HISTORY: The referendum that begat a long international nightmare
In the Hitchcock classic North by Northwest, the Cary Grant character asks the shady Eva Marie Saint character this: “How does a girl like you get to be a girl like you?” She asks him what he means and he replies: “Naughty. Wicked. Up to no good.” That pretty much sums up the Islamic Republic of Iran. How did it get this way? There were some critical notches in this dismal, tragic narrative, and one of them occurred 47 years ago today.
Revolutions are often remembered as moments of collective choice. In reality, they are usually moments of institutional collapse, followed by a scramble to define what comes next. Iran in 1979 is a textbook case. The country did not set out, in any coherent or unified way, to become a theocratic state. It became one because power shifted faster than political alternatives could organize — and because the institutions capable of arresting that shift chose not to.
At the center of this transformation were two referendums: the first, on March 30-31, was phrased in general terms, on establishing an Islamic Republic — and the December 1979 constitutional referendum set out the exact terms. Together, they converted revolutionary upheaval into a durable system of clerical rule. But to understand their significance, one must begin before the ballots were cast.
By late 1978, the regime of Mohammad Reza Pahlavi was disintegrating. Protest movements had spread nationwide, uniting an unusually broad coalition of secular liberals, Marxists, bazaar merchants, religious conservatives, and students. What bound them together was opposition to autocracy, corruption, and repression — not a shared vision of what should replace it. And definitely not a desire to be ruled for a half century by fanatical, mass-murdering clerics.
So how did this occur?
The decisive moment came in February 1979. The Shah had left the country, and the military — still among the most powerful institutions in Iran — declared neutrality. That decision proved pivotal. Had the armed forces intervened decisively, the revolutionary coalition might have fractured or been suppressed. Instead, by stepping aside, they allowed revolutionary momentum to coalesce around the most organized and disciplined faction. That faction was led by Ruhollah Khomeini.
Khomeini’s network, rooted in mosques, clerical institutions, and informal social structures, was uniquely positioned to mobilize quickly. While secular and leftist groups debated, his followers constructed parallel systems of authority: revolutionary committees, local enforcement networks, and a moral-political narrative that framed the upheaval in religious terms. By the time formal politics resumed, the balance of power had already shifted.
In March 1979, the new authorities moved swiftly to legitimize the emerging order through a national referendum. The question posed was stark: “Islamic Republic: Yes or No.” There were no alternative models on offer — no secular republic, no constitutional monarchy, and no clear articulation of what an “Islamic Republic” would entail. In effect, the vote was less a choice between systems than an endorsement of a slogan.
The official result — over 98 percent in favor—has long been treated with skepticism. Opposition groups had limited capacity to organize or campaign; some boycotted the process altogether; the concept itself remained undefined; and revolutionary enthusiasm, combined with social pressure, was overwhelming. Moreover, the vote was not credibly secret. There was genuine support for a break with the past and for a political order infused with Islamic identity. But there was no informed consensus about the institutional structure to follow. The referendum deferred that while granting the dominant faction a powerful claim to legitimacy.
The months that followed were decisive. An elected body, the Assembly of Experts for the Constitution, was tasked with drafting a new framework. In theory, this offered an opportunity for Iran’s diverse political forces to shape the future system. In practice, the field had already tilted. Secular and moderate voices were increasingly marginalized, while revolutionary institutions loyal to Khomeini gained strength. Political competition persisted, but in increasingly constrained forms — subtle in some places, coercive in others.
Most significantly, Khomeini and his allies advanced a specific doctrinal vision: Velayat-e Faqih, or the guardianship of the jurist. This concept placed ultimate political authority in the hands of a senior cleric charged with ensuring that the state remained faithful to Islamic principles.
In December 1979, the draft constitution was submitted to a second national referendum. By this point, the essential features of the new order were already in place: a Supreme Leader with ultimate authority, institutions designed to vet legislation and political candidates, and a hybrid system combining electoral mechanisms with clerical oversight. The aburd and not-credible official result — around 99 percent approval — again falsely suggested near-total consensus.
The political atmosphere favored endorsement over dissent. The constitution itself was complex, and many voters were unlikely to have fully grasped its implications. Most importantly, the referendum did not occur in a neutral environment. It followed months in which power had already consolidated around a particular vision.
Throughout this process, one factor loomed in the background: the absence of a decisive counterweight. The military’s declaration of neutrality in February 1979 was not merely passive. It was a choice that shaped all subsequent outcomes. By declining to intervene — whether to preserve the monarchy, impose a transitional authority, or support a broader coalition — it allowed the revolutionary field to be dominated by its most cohesive force.
This is critical because it is very common in revolutions for the military — the men with guns — to determine, at least in the opening stages, where things go. As AQL has written before, this is basically what happened in both Romania in 1989 and Egypt in 2011. So at a critical juncture, the institution most capable of altering the trajectory chose not to. In that sense, the Islamic Republic was not only built by those who seized power but enabled by those who stepped aside.
Why? Presumably some generals were afraid. Some might have not imagined the Islamic revolution would be so extreme and become so entrenched. Understanding all this, the regime established the Revolutionary Guard as, essentially, an alternative and more powerful military. It essentially protects the regime, and has tried to infiltrate the military and determine the military leadership as well. In theory, though, a civil war in Iran might still pit the two forces against each other.
There is a broader constitutional lesson here. Constitutions are often designed not merely to organize power but to entrench it — to bind future generations to a particular ideological framework. The constitution of the Islamic Republic of Iran is a clear example. Core elements — the Islamic character of the state and the principle of clerical guardianship — are placed effectively beyond amendment. Even the process of revision is tightly controlled, requiring initiation from the apex of the system itself. And, of course, the clerics vet all politicians before then run for office, including the president and parliamentarians — and thus no true opposition can emerge withint recognized institutions.
If Iran were to undergo a genuine political transition toward a more democratic system, it would be exceedingly difficult to achieve that transformation within the existing constitutional framework. When a constitution prevents fundamental change, that change tends to occur outside the constitutional order. A future transformation in Iran would likely not take the form of incremental amendment. It would instead require the convening of a constituent assembly, the drafting of a new constitutional framework, and its submission to a genuinely competitive referendum. In other words, the system established in 1979 would not be gradually rewritten; it would likely be abandoned.
Before 1979, Iran was not a liberal democracy but an authoritarian monarchy with significant secular features: a civil legal system, state-led modernization, and a limited formal role for clerics in governance. Yet it also contained deep religious networks and identities that the state never fully displaced. The revolution brought those networks to the forefront. But the transformation from a secular-leaning state to a theocratic one was not an inevitable expression of Iranian society. It was the product of institutional collapse, organizational asymmetry, strategic leadership, and the absence of effective constraints.
The 1979 referendums created a thin veneer of popular legitimacy — but resulted in a 47-year nightmare that has little to do with what most Iranians want. Anyone who has met them — in the diaspora, but also the poor residents of the country who occasionally get out — sees this. With any justice, they will soon be free
