Following the 2003 government transition and the U.S. occupation, Iraq held its first parliamentary elections on 15th December 2005. Iraq’s 230 parliamentary seats were distributed among its 18 electoral districts, each corresponding to a province. The entire country was treated as a single electoral district to allocate an additional 45 seats to minorities. As all residents of a legal voting age were eligible to cast ballots, the youngest voters in that first legislative term were born in 1988.
The election results were not surprising. Political parties with ties to various ethnic and sectarian groups controlled the outcome. Shia, Sunni, and Kurdish media outlets, as well as some government and unofficial organisations, reported the results in a sectarian manner.
At the time, the 275-seat Council of Representatives saw the Shia list win 128 seats, falling just 10 short of an absolute majority. The Kurdish list followed with 53 seats, and the Sunni Iraqi Accord Front won 44 seats. The results were interpreted purely through a sectarian lens, with no alternative or non-sectarian frameworks considered.
With a few key exceptions, the elections held on 7th March 2010 resembled those of 2005. Notable changes included a shift from a closed list to a semi-open list system, and an increase in parliamentary seats to 325, following a 2.8 percent population increase (according to Ministry of Trade data at the time).
A new generation of voters also emerged: young men and women born between 1989 and 1992, whose formative years were shaped by the 2003 transition. Their collective memory differed somewhat from older generations who lived through the Gulf War of 1991 and the Iran-Iraq War in the 1980s. Some of these younger voters only have faint memories of the economic sanctions and the events surrounding the 2003 invasion. As before, election results were largely divided and assessed along sectarian lines.
While the 2010 results remained largely shaped by sectarian dynamics, this emerging generation did not yet have a significant electoral impact. They represented a small segment of the electorate, particularly as many were students or still coming of age during the height of sectarian conflict.
This contrasts with the memory of the newest cohort eligible to vote in the 2014 elections, born between 1993 and 1996. This generation was the last to experience a largely traditional upbringing – or at least part of one—unmediated by smart devices and the technological revolution that followed. They represented the final generation of millennials.
Gen Z votes
With every new election, a new generation enters the ranks of eligible voters. However, this succession has not led to significant changes in electoral outcomes. Traditional powers have largely retained their dominance, with occasional fluctuations as one side gained ground in one cycle and another in the next. This does not imply that new voters lack the capacity to bring about change. However, social and political dynamics have repeatedly obstructed efforts to transcend sectarian, ethnic, and tribal blocs, with such barriers sometimes reinforced by the system itself. The electoral law, which gained prominence in Iraqi political discourse after the 2018 elections, can also impede the emergence of new political groups.
The 2018 elections marked the most notable shift in the composition of the electorate, with Gen Z voting for the first time, specifically those born between 1996 and 2000. However, the ballot boxes, some of which were later burned, ultimately upheld the same entrenched divisions.
Following the challenging formation of Adel Abdul Mahdi’s government, the October 2019 protests erupted, marking a turning point for both traditional and emerging political forces. The Tishreen uprising helped break the cycle of voter apathy, as many traditional parties—particularly Shiite ones—struggled to respond to its demands. This coincided with the introduction of a new electoral law ahead of the 2021 early elections, which divided Iraq into 83 electoral districts and lowered the minimum candidacy age from 30 to 28 years.
The independent and cross-sectarian forces that emerged after the Tishreen uprising regarded the election results as a significant achievement, a point they emphasised in their campaign messaging. This change was evident in the 2021 elections, when voters born between 2000 and 2003 cast their first ballots. Some of them were born as Iraq’s new governmental structure was being established and the country was under American occupation.
The elections gave rise to new political blocs and alliances, setting new precedents. Many traditional parties and powerful figures remained involved, including former Prime Minister Haider al-Abadi and the State Forces Alliance led by prominent Shia figure Ammar al-Hakim, which secured only four seats. In contrast, the well-established Sadrist bloc won 73 seats.
Meanwhile, the Imtidad Movement emerged from the protests and adopted their rhetoric, winning nine seats. Eshraqet Kanoon secured six, while the New Generation Movement also took nine. The Kurdistan Alliance claimed 16 seats. The Fatah Alliance includes several radical Shia factions but suffered a major setback, falling from 48 in 2018 to just 17 seats.
Unlike previous cycles, the 2021 elections reflected structural shifts, most notably, the decline of established political forces. In Basra, for example, the Fadhila Party had held the governorship and key roles since 2003 but began losing influence as early as 2009. By 2013, the Islamic Supreme Council had taken over, supported by the rising influence of the State of Law coalition.
Starting in 2018, with the emergence of the Tasmim Alliance led by Asaad al-Eidani, traditional parties experienced a visible decline. The alliance gained five seats in the 2021 federal parliamentary elections, signalling a broader shift.
That same election saw the highest number of independent candidates—789 in total—with 43 independent MPs ultimately elected. Estimates suggest that most young voters supported these new political forces. However, this trend was largely driven by the Tishreen momentum, as public support for alternatives surged, while traditional parties worked to reposition themselves in the evolving landscape.
These shifts opened new avenues for engaging younger voters and forced traditional parties to modernise their campaign strategies, beginning with the 2018 elections. Where television and in-person reality had once been the main platforms for communication, media began to rival reality itself in shaping public perception. It became a third dimension through which relationships between candidates and the electorate were forged. This led to the rise of a new term in Iraq’s political lexicon: cyber armies.
The 2021 elections brought several MPs into parliament with strong digital profiles – those who wrote frequently or produced widely resonant videos. In doing so, they effectively displaced long-standing political figures who had been active since the early days of the post-2003 system. Most notably, a recurring and sometimes tense conflict emerged between independent MPs, often called Tishreen MPs, and the traditional party MPs.
This conflict likely reflects a deeper reality rooted in generational division. Younger voters have often backed emerging political forces, especially urban youth whose political awareness has been shaped largely by the October 2019 protests. Many expressed genuine belief in the mission of these new movements. Traditional parties, by contrast, continued to hold on to their base even as they incorporated younger members into their ranks. Still, the fundamental difference in narrative and messaging between the two sides remained unchanged.
What does Gen Z Say?
When we asked several Gen Z voters who participated in the 2021 elections, five out of twelve confirmed that their voting choices differed from those of their parents. Saleh from Nasiriyah, Dhiaa from Baghdad, Maha from Babylon, Malik from Maysan, and Sahar from Baghdad all voted for newly formed parties entering the electoral race for the first time. Meanwhile, their parents supported traditional powers, chief among them the State of Law Coalition and the Sadrist Movement.
This suggests that the political preferences of this generation fundamentally differ from those of earlier generations, even if some expressed disappointment with the performance of independent MPs. Several interviewees noted that the political system as a whole may not allow for genuine change. Nevertheless, a degree of trust and connection persists between this generation and the emerging political forces – something that cannot be overlooked.
All of this took place in the context of low voter turnout during the 2021 elections, which stood at around 43 percent, according to the official announcement. A total of 9,629,601 voters participated out of 22,116,368 registered voters. At the time, the European Union Election Observation Mission described this as a clear political signal that should have captured the attention of the political elite.
What do we know about new voters and what do they know about politics?
This time, the political class competing in the upcoming parliamentary elections was unlikely to ignore the fact that a new generation could determine its fate. Politicians were expected to turn their attention to these voters due to the size and significance of their vote. Estimates suggest that approximately 975,000 individuals were born in 2005, around 998,000 in 2006, and about 976,000 in 2007, based on data from the United Nations and the World Bank. According to the Electoral Commission, spokesperson Jumana Al-Ghalai estimated that more than one million individuals born in 2007 would be eligible to vote in the elections.
Fatima would experience her first election this November. However, she expressed hesitation about participating or obtaining a voter ID. Born in 2007, she said she was not interested in politics and found discussing it tedious. She did not know the name of the President of the Republic and was unsure about the current Prime Minister’s name, guessing: “Ahmed Shiaa al-Sudani”. This lack of concern was not unique to her. There appeared to be a clear disconnect between Iraq’s political system and new voters born in 2005, 2006, and 2007, who would be voting for the first time.
Many of these individuals spend most of their time on social media, particularly on TikTok and Instagram, which were their preferred platforms. They did not seem motivated to engage in public affairs. When asked about the possibility of joining protests or demonstrations, some questioned whether such actions were effective. In 14 interviews conducted with individuals from this group, several expressed a clear dislike for anything political, preferring to keep their private lives separate. Some explained that focusing on self-development was more important than entering the political arena—even as voters who could potentially contribute to change.
In a random survey of 43 individuals (27 males and 16 females), the results were consistent with the interviews. Of those surveyed, 33.3 percent said they had already issued a voter ID, while 42.9 percent indicated they would issue one, and 23.8 percent decided not to obtain one.PIC: “There is no honest representative of my ideas, and if there were, they wouldn’t be able to change anything.” , “No, I won’t participate, because these elections are just like the ones before.” , ”I’m not sure.”
The survey also showed that 47.6 percent of participants said they would not vote, compared to 42.9 percent who confirmed they would. Meanwhile, 9.5 percent chose responses outside a simple “yes” or “no”.
Some of them said:
“There is no honest representative of my ideas, and if there were, they wouldn’t be able to change anything.”
“No, I won’t participate, because these elections are just like the ones before.”
“I’m not sure, I see two sides to this maybe the person I vote for will be good or bad, and in either case, I will bear the responsibility for their actions.”
“Participation is better than boycotting.”
These varied positions reflected how this generation perceived the effectiveness of their votes. Of those surveyed, 32.6 percent said their vote did not affect the results; 30.2 percent believed it did; and 37.2 percent said their vote might make a difference. Separately, 23 individuals (53.5 percent) believed that elections could not change the country’s political situation. Others raised different concerns, such as the presence of uncontrolled weapons that made change difficult or even pointless. Even so, some respondents who commented on the survey added:
“Ultimately, elections are the only way to bring about change.”
This highlights a clear divide between frustration and belief in political influence, as well as between apathy and participation.
Voters from a new world
These young people operate within a media ecosystem that often feels largely inaccessible to political financiers. They typically receive little information and minimal messaging from politicians — usually a trickle of promotional content struggling for relevance, drowned out by a flood of satirical videos that tend to go viral.
Recently, they have begun to encounter videos showcasing road and bridge construction projects, often accompanied by images of Prime Minister Mohammed Shia al-Sudani placed to the left or right of the footage. These videos were commonly labelled “Achievements”. Some of those we interviewed responded positively to this type of content, while others remained indifferent.
The Prime Minister, who was preparing for the upcoming elections and aspired to another four-year term in office, focused his efforts on the youth demographic. He launched the Participation Initiative under the umbrella of the Supreme Youth Council, aiming to encourage young people to vote, raising the slogan:
“So that youth can make an impact… participate.”
At the launch ceremony, held in the shadow of the upcoming elections, Prime Minister al-Sudani delivered a 15-minute speech. This was considered particularly lengthy by many young listeners. He framed the political contest as a battle between two camps: one he called the “conscious national current”, and the other, “an alternative that resorts to slogans and deception”. He emphasised popular participation as “the supporting force” behind any government.
Al-Sudani repeatedly mentioned the words “youth” and “our youth”, highlighting his team’s digital outreach to approximately 20,000 young people. According to him, this effort resulted in 1,200 youths engaging in discussions and producing recommendations that were later reviewed by the Council of Ministers.
Meanwhile, most political blocs were also targeting the youth vote, including the Al-Bashair Movement, affiliated with the State of Law Coalition led by Nouri al-Maliki.
Hussein Hussam, an 18-year-old from Baghdad, allowed us to access his TikTok account and personal phone for 15 minutes. During that time, we found only two political videos: one featuring chants praising Iraqi politician Mohammed al-Halbousi, and another showing a religious anthem paired with an animated video of Sadrist leader Muqtada al-Sadr walking near a shrine. Hussein explained that most of the videos he preferred were about football, songs with photo edits, and study material, as he was a final-year high school student. He also enjoyed trending clips, humorous content, and videos about cars, a personal passion.
When asked whether he would vote, Hussein took a while to respond. He said, “If I decide to vote, who would I even vote for? I don’t know. What do you mean? Can I even vote for just anyone?”
The gap between Hussein and his peers on one side, and the political parties, blocs, and movements on the other, appears wide. Hussein and his friends were well-versed in video games, dating apps, creating engaging Instagram stories, and the job market. They also had business and marketing ideas, as well as talents like photography and driving.
On the other hand, they were unfamiliar with Iraq’s political process. Most of these young people avoided discussing politics and preferred to keep their distance. Hussein explained, “It’s a headache, man. There’s no point.”
In contrast, Marwan, 19 years old, believed he was in a position that gave him the political insight and agency he aspired to. He had no hesitation in naming the candidate he planned to vote for, having joined a political party about three months earlier—one that had decided to run in the upcoming elections. He committed himself to advocating for the importance of political participation and the effectiveness of engagement, despite acknowledging the challenges of simplifying political discourse for his generation.
Marwan was trying hard to navigate this space. He lived on the outskirts of Basra in southern Iraq, where tribal traditions still held strong, as he put it.
Still, he remained confident that change was possible.
A new memory… new visions
A citizen’s interaction with the political system is shaped by several factors, including their socio-economic class, their position within their immediate community, and the intellectual and political tools made available by the system. In addition to these, there is also personal memory, an internal archive that influences the choices they make over others.
While the performance of past governments often served as an electoral benchmark for many individuals, this applied to new voters only in the context of the current government. Therefore, the key question became: How was their memory formed?
The 2021 elections and the armed clashes that erupted in the Green Zone marked the most significant political events of this generation. On that night, confrontations broke out between the Sadrist Movement and other Shia factions, many of whom were affiliated with or emerged from the Coordination Framework. These confrontations unfolded near Baghdad’s Green Zone. In the aftermath, the Sadrist Movement withdrew, effectively leaving the field open for their rivals to dominate the state.
This is a generation that did not witness the judicial battles that once defined government formation in Iraq. Nor are many of them familiar with one of the country’s most entrenched political conventions: the distribution of the three presidencies among ethno-sectarian components. They also did not live through the major security crises that claimed thousands of lives and often translated into electoral gains for certain political groups.
What we are looking at is a collective memory that rarely predates the October 2019 protests. These individuals were around 12 to 15 years old at the time, meaning they were not deeply involved in the political despair of Tishreen. Added to this is a kind of political isolation that often characterises youth without ideological affiliations – an isolation that becomes apparent when speaking with those who have not directly witnessed the system’s major failures or existential crises.
However, they are aware of indicators of corruption, institutional decline, and political division – factors that continue to obstruct meaningful progress. As a result, many of them have not formed a clear understanding of the political system, nor do they grasp how its key players operate, how alliances are built, or how conflicts emerge. Their political awareness and engagement are still taking shape. These may evolve, particularly as traditional parties become more withdrawn and lose public trust and support.
That said, a few parties have managed to appeal to and recruit youth from newer generations, standing out as exceptions in an otherwise shrinking landscape of political outreach.
This article is published in partnership with the Iraqi Network for Investigative Journalism NIRIJ.