With Diverse Tactics, Women's Rights Activists Shaped Iran's Elections

Although there are no official statistics on the number of women who participated in the fourteenth presidential election in Iran, evidence suggests that participation was limited. Mardomak, a research firm, reviewed a random sample of over 8,000 Iranian twitter users one week before the election. Of this sample, just 18 percent were women who supported Pezeshkian. Double that proportion supported one of the two hardline candidates, Saeed Jalili and Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf, while 39 percent intended to abstain from the election.

But even if most women voters did not participate in the election, they still had a significant impact on its outcome. In a recent interview with the reformist newspaper Etemad, Shirin Ahmadnia, a sociology professor at Allameh Tabataba’i University, underscored the ways in which women have transformed the political arena through new forms of activism, including election boycotts.

For years, the Iranian women’s movement had adopted a “pressure from below, bargaining from above” approach to activism, aiming to bring about reform through a combination of tactics. But political elites were unswayed by the social pressure and unwilling to engage in good-faith negotiations—the situation of women remained largely the same, whether a moderate or fundamentalist was president. The Women, Life, Freedom movement, which emerged after the death of Mahsa (Jina) Amini, brought a new urgency to the fight for gender equality. Iranian women were no longer mobilizing to with the goal of reform. They wanted fundamental political change.

The death of Ebrahim Raisi in a helicopter accident led to new elections. Surprisingly, the Guardian Council, a vetting body, approved Pezeshkian to run. Faced with an unexpected election and a surprising candidate, some women activists did choose to vote, casting their ballots for Pezeshkian, who was backed by reformists and moderates. My conversations with nine women’s rights activists in Iran revealed complex feelings about the election and the best tactics to improve the status of women in Iranian society. Their names have been changed for their own safety.

Leila, an activist and writer, did not vote in either round of the election, but she deliberated voting in the second round. “I have not participated in elections since 2021. I asked myself: Should women participate in the elections when the presidential candidates promise nothing about women’s rights? As a woman, why should I participate in the elections of a state that does not show flexibility for women’s rights?”

Leila understood why some women may have opted to vote when Pezeshkian made it to the second round. “I think some of those who had not voted in the first round participated in the second round because [Jalili] represented religious fundamentalism, which worried me too. But in the end, I decided not to vote because I believed Pezeshkian’s chances of winning were high.”

Historically, women’s rights activists have been considered part of the reformist’s base. But a perceived neglect of women’s demands has led the reformists to lose much of this support. Maryam, a journalist who focuses on women’s issues has volunteered for reformist campaigns in the past. But she did not vote for Pezeshkian. She referred to a feeling of disappointment as candidates failed to make good on their promises. “I did not vote because I have no hope. My friends and I feel disillusioned with the reformists, with politics, and with elections. The president does not play a pivotal role in this dictatorial system.”

Many women experience double discrimination due to their ethnicity. Sahar, an activist from the Iranian province of Kurdistan, viewed abstention as a form of civil resistance. “I did not vote because civil laws, family rights, and political rights discriminate against me due to my gender,” she explained. “Legal reform has stalled for years. Moreover, my ethnicity, language, and identity still lack representation in political discussions.”

Sahar criticized Pezeshkian’s stance on women, adding “According to Pezeshkian, women’s social presence and gender justice are intertwined with their role within the family. He believes a woman’s identity should be defined solely within the family institution. In essence, women are denied individual freedoms and citizenship rights beyond household duties. His traditional thinking fails to recognize each woman’s independent identity.”

While many Iranian women grew disillusioned in the aftermath of the Women, Life, Freedom protests, for others, the turning point came earlier. For Haleh, who was jailed for her activism against the compulsory hijab law, this moment came after the downing of Ukraine International Airlines Flight PS752, which was hit by Iranian anti-aircraft missiles in January 2020. Explaining her decision to boycott the election, Haleh pointed to the failure of the government to create accountability.

“The main reason for me, even before the candidates were announced and before knowing whether we would have a reformist candidate or not, was that after the plane incident, I became disillusioned with the reforms,” Haleh explained. I was convinced that the path we had followed all these years would no longer work. In the past, I had hope and believed that voting for the reformists would lead us down the right path. But now, I ask myself, what difference does it make whether Jalili or Pezeshkian is president?”

While few women’s rights activists believe that Pezeshkian’s victory will lead to fundamental change, particularly on women’s issues, some believe that having a reform-minded president will make a difference. Many women’s rights activists saw voting for Pezeshkian as a chance to address economic hardships, revitalize social movements, and create greater space for women to voice their demands. Many women’s rights activists are struggling to make a living, which makes it difficult for them to sustain their activism.

According to Soudabeh, an activist and social worker, Pezeshkian’s promise to put technocrats back in charge of policy earned him the vote of some women. “They believed that Pezeshkian could address the deterioration of Iran’s economy by appointing people who are more knowledgeable and moderate to key positions. Iran’s situation is like a person with an incurable disease, and the Pezeshkian’s presidency might help slow or reverse the country’s deterioration.”

Some women’s rights activists working in governmental organizations or managing NGOs expressed a similar hope for the Pezeshkian administration. Shahla, an employee of a governmental organization, contrasted the Rouhani and Raisi governments. “During the Rouhani administration, despite its weaknesses, some women activists held management positions. With the fundamentalist representatives now in parliament, we cannot expect fundamental changes, but we are optimistic about social openings for women under Pezeshkian. Positive changes have already begun in our organization, indicating that while the president may not be able change the structure of the system, he can still influence social policies. I believe the state has acknowledged public dissatisfaction and is considering implementing changes, however small.’’

Despite Iran’s structural discrimination against women, some women’s rights activists still believe that they must not abandon the political arena. They seek improvements, however small, such as creating spaces to express their demands. Shadi, who runs an NGO for women, described the risks when fundamentalists gain power. “Most of us with NGOs working on women’s rights encouraged others to vote despite facing punishment for our activism. We endured the suffocating atmosphere of the Raisi era. Now, a small hope has emerged. Since Pezeshkian has been elected, some people in the governmental organizations we deal with have retreated from their fundamentalist stances.”

Shadi challenged the notion that activists should welcome the further deterioration of conditions in Iran. “Some have criticized me for founding an NGO, believing that increasing social problems could lead to the [Islamic Republic’s] downfall. In these years, so many women have been killed, yet nothing has happened to the state. These expectations are abstract. We must protect women and create spaces where diverse voices are heard,” she insisted. “We must not allow fundamentalists to take power in all three branches of government.”

Reyhaneh, an activist and law student, voted for Pezeshkian in the first round of the election. “I voted in the first round because I believe that the social movements need revitalization, and Pezeshkian’s presidency offers a greater likelihood of this compared to Jalili. Additionally, my decision was grounded in a pragmatic view of potential changes in the country.” Reyhaneh hoped for “less fear on the streets, less suppression of university students, and fewer professors dismissed.”

But she abstained in the second round. “In the second round, I paid closer attention to the debates, and the inconsistency of Pezeshkian’s statements about the economy dissuaded me from voting. For instance, he once emphasized that we should not allow people to experience poverty; yet in another context, he advocated for minimal government intervention.’’

Reyhaneh has low expectations as Pezeshkian prepares for his inauguration.  “I don’t anticipate a reversal in policies regarding hijab, which concerns many of us. There may be some changes in the distribution of positions held by women, and more educated women may enter the government roles, but the glass ceiling will likely remain intact.’’

Saba, a sociologist who supported Pezeshkian, understands why many of her fellow activists refused to vote. She says Iranian women are engaging in “intentional neglect.” These women are no longer abstaining from voting to express anger towards Iran’s political elite. Instead, they are indifferent. “Women are signaling to the state, ‘We want nothing to do with you. We are forging our own paths, building our own businesses to maintain independence, crafting our own narratives, and creating separate media spaces on social platforms. Every day, we distance ourselves further from you,’” Saba explained.

In a campaign statement addressing “the main demands of today’s women,” Pezeshkian acknowledged that “today’s women do not want someone other than themselves to decide their marriage, education, career, clothing, and lifestyle.” Pezeshkian was the only candidate to issue such a statement, which declared that “the expansion and realization of gender justice will not only improve the condition of women but also to the revival of life in Iran.’’ He promised to “respect [women’s] choices” and to “provide a platform” for Iranian women “to become the best versions of themselves.”

Pezeshkian will begin his term without a mandate from Iranian women, but it is still in his interest to fulfill his promises to them. Should he fail to do so, Iranian women will boldly challenge him, as they have challenged his predecessors.

Photo: IRNA

Iran's Instagram Crackdown is Jeopardising Women's Livelihoods

Iranian women have been striving to enhance their socioeconomic status, both online and offline. Statistics show that this is not an easy task: in 2023, the World Economic Forum ranked Iran 143rd out of 146 countries in its annual gender gap report. Iran also sits at 144th for economic participation and opportunity. Consequently, many women resort to informal employment in areas such as sales, homeworking, catering, and domestic work. Due to the informal nature of this kind of work, it is difficult to collect data on the number of women in such roles.

Although it has become increasingly difficult for Iranians—particularly women—to make a living, many micro-entrepreneurs have used Instagram to start businesses. Due to its relatively low entry barriers and easy access to potential customers, the platform had been ideal for this purpose. However, Iranian women are now encountering serious obstacles. A move by authorities to block Instagram and throttle internet speeds, as well as steep increases in internet package prices and arrests of prominent influencers, have all made it more difficult for women to seek economic opportunities online.

World Bank figures from 2021 show that approximately 79 percent of Iran’s population uses the internet. In February 2024, the Iranian Students’ News Agency (ISNA) reported that after Telegram, WhatsApp was the most popular platform, with about 47.7 million users. Instagram ranked third, with 47 million users. Of Iranian Instagram users, 46 percent are female—more than 21 million women.

For the last five years, Abolfazl Hajizadegan, a sociologist at the University of Tehran, has published an annual report on Iran's social media sphere. Hajizadegan’s most recent report clearly shows that, despite the shutdown of Instagram by the Islamic Republic (which occurred at the beginning of the Woman, Life, Freedom movement in Iran), women persist in their online presence.

In this piece, I have chosen to focus specifically on accounts from which influencers generate income. The accounts I discuss do not necessarily belong to the most famous people but to ones who have amassed a large number of followers and are engaged in online business.

The table above is drawn from Hajizadegan’s reports and shows that the share of women has increased among Iranian social media influencers. Among lifestyle-oriented accounts on Instagram, the proportion of women has risen from 58 percent in 2019 to 89 percent in 2023. One of the women who has experienced the highest growth in followers in recent years is Yegane Rezaee, a lifestyle blogger. With one million followers, she chronicles her daily life and earns an income through sponsored posts.

Women are strongly represented among fashion and beauty accounts and one of the influencers in this area is Farzaneh Mezon, who has 153,000 followers. Mezon advertises her products by showcasing various outfits in the photos she uploads. Perhaps because of her popularity, her online store was blocked in July 2023. She soon posted the following statement on Instagram: “Our website has been blocked by a court order. We have been asked to delete all photos that go against Islamic values and the proper hijab framework.” Farzaneh was able to continue her work after appealing to her followers, who wrote comments of solidarity under the post and vowed to support her in making the necessary changes to her website.

Iranian women also account for a growing share of Instagram accounts focused on educational content. The share of women-led accounts has risen from 14 percent in 2019 to 45 percent in 2023. Havin Hosseiny manages a page that focuses on empowering women by improving their life skills. Her bio states, “Our goal is to improve women’s mental health and help them increase their income.’’ With 739,000 followers, she explains gender equality to the audience on her page by publishing short animated videos with attractive content and simple language. She also founded the Havin School, which offers online courses for women that focus on issues such as personal relationships, career advancement, self-confidence, stress reduction, and financial awareness. In addition to providing free educational content, she earns money from other educational workshops.

In the comedy and entertainment field, the gap between women and men remains significant despite women’s share increasing from 6 percent in 2019 to 29 percent in 2023. Zeinab Musavi, known as Emperor Kuzco, creates short comic videos. With 645,000 followers, she is one of the most famous Iranian comedians online. To earn an income, she asks her followers to donate any amount they wish: “These videos I create and publish on this page are my job. And if you enjoy them, you can contribute through two links I have provided in my bio.’’

Men dominate the sports pages. However, pages such as the one run by Elnaz Rekabi, a competition climber with 653,000 followers, are among the most popular on Instagram. It is worth bearing in mind that the low number of women participating in this field likely reflects restrictions placed on female athletes. For instance, the Instagram page of Sogol Rahbar, a bodybuilder with 290,000 followers, was temporarily shut by the Law Enforcement Command of the Islamic Republic of Iran, known by its Persian acroynym, FARAJA. A post on Rahbar’s account carried this message: “Due to the publication of criminal content against public morals and decency, Faraja has blocked this page.’’ However, after deleting posts deemed to depict “improper hijab,’’ Sogol resumed her activities. She earns money through advertising, providing exercise and nutrition programmes, and conducting online classes.

According to Hajizadegan’s research, women do not run any popular religious pages. However, conservative values are represented in other spheres. For example, there are business pages run by conservative women, one of whom is Khadije Faghih, who teaches mat weaving and has 37,800 followers. In addition to publishing free educational content, she earns money by holding classes.

Because Iranian women are excluded from the formal economy, many have sought opportunities in the informal economy. The widespread use of social media platforms has allowed many creative and enterprising women to engage in online business. Instagram is one of the most widely used platforms in Iran, but the crackdowns following the Women, Life, Freedom movement, have created new obstacles for women seeking opportunities on the platform. Moves by authorities to pressure women to observe the “proper hijab’’ have economic consequences. Moreover, President Ebrahim Raisi has yet to fulfill an election promise to provide free internet to all people on low incomes. Instead, internet prices remain high, and the government filtering of platforms like Instagram means that people are forced to buy virtual private networks (VPNs). This has dramatically reduced internet access for economically disadvantaged women.

According to the Tehran-based Beta Research Center, more than two million Iranian businesses market products and services on Instagram, and less than one-fifth of these enterprises also sells their products offline. Importantly, 64 percent of these businesses are owned by women, who have been disproportionately impacted by the internet crackdowns. Rural women who relied on online businesses for their livelihoods have been especially affected—many have been forced to peddle their products on city streets.

In February, Iran’s National Center for Cyberspace officially prohibited the use of VPNs. At present, despite campaigns to repeal the new prohibition, the future of the Iranian internet is uncertain. In recent years, Iranian women have accounted for a growing share of major accounts on Instagram, seizing economic opportunities that are unavailable in Iran’s offline economy. Today, their livelihoods are in jeopardy.

Photo: Farzaneh Mezon

How Female Vendors in Tehran's Metro are Forced Underground

“It is like working in a mine; you use subways for commuting, but we have to work underground for at least seven hours,” said Soudabeh, a young woman who works as a peddler in the Tehran Metro. To protect her anonymity, I have changed her name, along with those of all the women interviewed here.

The number of female vendors working in the subway is growing, but no official statistics record how many there are. They are an integral part of the daily life of Tehran Metro: circulating among passengers with bags containing cosmetics, socks, clothes, sandwiches, books, and more. Most female vendors work in the front and rear wagons of the trains, normally designated for women. Despite the efforts of municipal authorities and police to curb their activities, they persist in utilising the public transportation system as a workplace.

Women marginalised from Iran’s formal economy resort to making a living in the subway. Soudabeh is one of the thousands of female vendors. She is divorced and living with her mother. Peddling is only a secondary occupation for Soudabeh, who has been working since high school. She is a fitness trainer and works mornings in a gym, but her wages from that job are not sufficient to meet the household’s needs, so she must also work underground, in the metro.

Making ends meet requires Soudabeh to work even on holidays. She underscores the significance of financial independence for women: “A woman who has income can decide for herself. Women should have the capacity to tackle their challenges in society. If a woman who has a job gets divorced, she will not tell herself I burned all the bridges behind me and do not have a way to survive.”

In the past, children often took their parents’ place in a family business. Today, however, when all they may inherit is poverty, they follow their mothers into the metro to earn money.

Ala has not gone to university because she thinks it is futile for her future. Her mother’s twelve years of work in the subway became Ala’s path, too. Still, she considers working in the subway to be better than having an employer: “Working for yourself is better than working for other people. An employer might not provide me with a steady income. My friend’s employer did not pay her because his store did not sell for a month. Here, in the subway, you have your daily earnings.”

Flexible working hours and being your own boss are motives that many female vendors emphasise when asked why they do the job. Faced with patriarchal norms in society that expects women to do housework and take care of children, leading to a dearth of employment opportunities, they have little choice but to be self-employed. Mona sells bags and hats. She suffered from domestic violence and recently got divorced. Born in Mashhad, she has worked since she was twelve years old when she had to quit school because her family could not afford to keep her in education. She migrated to Tehran after her marriage. After several years working in a restaurant, Mona had to change her job and became a subway vendor: “I worked in a restaurant. I love socializing with people. When I worked there, my passion for the job was so intense that customers thought it was my restaurant. However, I had to quit my job due to my circumstances. Daily responsibilities such as picking up my daughter at school make flexible working hours in the subway a practical choice to me.”

Economic instability is one of their persistent concerns. Many have to go to the bazaar daily to acquire goods, and they face escalating prices influenced by the fluctuating value of the US dollar. Tara resides in Navab and has a bachelor’s degree in IT. She sells rhinestones and jewlery, purchasing some of her goods from the bazaar while others are hand-made. She expresses concern about escalating dollar prices: “I remember when the dollar suddenly surged to fifteen thousand tomans. I got so stressed that I failed all of the final exams. Why should I be worried about the dollar’s price?! If prices were stable, we would not endure this relentless pressure.”

Rising prices are a concern because vendors do not have much capital to stockpile goods. Indeed, the minimal initial outlay requirement is one of the reasons women choose this job. Tara, struggling to find an IT job in a company, took goods from her brother, also a vendor, to the subway to sell. “My mom works in people’s homes. I did not want to depend on her financially anymore. My mom is exhausted. I pondered how I would make money to assist her. So, I decided to work. Observing young women like myself work in the subway, I thought, ‘Why not me? Why do I not work?’ One day, I went to the metro but could not sell anything. I felt shy. But after four months, I could not bear the financial strain. I brought some of my brothers’ goods on the subway. A female vendor guided me. I told her, ‘I cannot advertise because I feel shy.’ She assured me she would teach me. We sold all the tops together, and its profits became my initial capital. After that, I brought chewing gum, and now I sell rhinestones.”

Sanctions contribute to an economic crisis that has exerted the greatest pressure on the lower classes. Forouzan resides with her family downstairs in her mother-in-law’s home in a disadvantaged district of Tehran. She sells scarves to make ends meet. The night before we spoke, she had learned she was pregnant. She was thinking about whether to keep her baby or have an abortion. Her husband works in a relative’s shop. His salary is insufficient, so both must work to cover their needs. Forouzan has a bachelor’s degree in economics and had worked in a bakery before vending on the subway. She observes the economic strain on the lower classes: “I think the elite become richer following shocks such as sanctions and surges in the dollar price. Their properties, homes, and cars become more valuable, but people like us become more and more vulnerable.”

One of the most formidable challenges female vendors face is daily confrontation with municipal agents and police officers. The officers try various tactics to expel the peddlers, such as confiscating vendors’ goods. Despite these challenges, the women continue their work, but they feel the pressure of such daily stresses. One female vendor wondered, “If they become successful in preventing us from working one day, what will happen to my family and me?”

To prevent the agents from confiscating their goods, women have developed ways to outwit them. In central stations like Khomeini, where there are greater numbers of officers, they do not get out of wagons. Some pretend they are passengers. Others employ strategies like concealing goods under a chador or in their bags.

Yalda and her husband both work in the subway. Yalda sells underwear. “I know which stations have more agents and avoid getting off there,” she explains.

The stories of these women show them grappling with patriarchal norms, state policies, and economic precarity. They also show the men in their lives worried about losing their bargaining power if their wives earn wages. Paradoxically, harsh financial circumstances often compel them to accept women’s economic role.

Yalda’s husband did not allow her to register at university. However, their financial problems meant she was able to convince him to allow her to work. Eventually, compelled to quit his job when they failed to pay his salary, he too stepped into the work Yalda had begun, and now they make a living together as peddlars.

The state expects women to perform traditional roles, to be good wives and mothers. Policies reinforce conventional gender roles, and the home is deemed the most appropriate sphere for women. Female vendors’ experiences in their daily confrontations with authorities make it clear that the Islamic Republic’s policies not only fail to create formal job opportunities for women, but they actively work to exclude women from their hard-won informal employment.

I conducted these interviews in Tehran’s metro in 2019 and 2020. I talked to 111 female vendors. I immersed myself in their world and observed them working, escaping, and trying to survive. I sat beside them when they were working on station platforms, accompanied them inside wagons, and witnessed their escape strategies from the police and how they navigated challenges to their survival. I have been honored to listen to their stories and document their resistance.

With both economic sanctions and government policies hurting their prospects, female vendors are fighting on both domestic and foreign fronts to sustain their livelihoods.

Photo: IRNA

In Iran, ‘Ordinary Women’ Lead an Extraordinary Movement

One year has passed since the tragic death of Mahsa (Jina) Amini in police custody, the event that ignited the Woman, Life, Freedom movement. This movement has provided a platform for acknowledging the enduring struggles of ordinary women in Iran, a battle that had been ongoing long before September 16, 2022. By “ordinary women,” I refer to individuals outside the elite and activist spectrum, adapting from sociologist Asef Bayat’s definition of “ordinary people” in his book Revolutionary Life. The struggles of ordinary women in Iran were often ignored or sidelined until last year. While I respect the efforts of all women’s rights activists dedicated to improving women’s rights in Iran, I believe the “Mahsa movement” stands on the shoulders of ordinary women, many of whom may not belong to the middle class or possess feminist knowledge, but who are undeniably fighting for the freedom to lead ordinary lives.

The Woman, Life, Freedom movement has induced cultural transformations within society and families in Iran. Many parents who previously advised their daughters to accept the mandatory hijab as a “minor issue” have now thrown their support behind their daughters’ quest for freedom of choice. The presence of women with uncovered hair has become more widely accepted. Women feel safer going out without the hijab. As one woman told me, “before the Woman, Life, Freedom movement, when I went out without hijab, I felt I was breaking social norms and that I was doing something weird in the eyes of society. But now I feel safe and know if somebody scolds me about the hijab, other people in the streets will come to protect me.’’ These cultural changes in the Iranian society are not limited to the hijab issue. The status of women within families has largely changed, and more women are gaining autonomy.

One of the most intriguing aspects of the Mahsa movement is the newfound overt support from men. Women have historically borne the brunt of struggles against a patriarchal society and state, but the Mahsa movement marks a turning point where men have joined in supporting women’s causes. Whether this support will extend to other women’s issues, such as unequal inheritance and divorce laws, remains to be seen.

The Woman, Life, Freedom movement has also significantly transformed the subjectivity of ordinary women. It has united women with shared experiences and pain, reminding them that they are not alone. While there have always been small support networks among women, this movement has elevated this solidarity to a national (and international) scale. In one instance, I saw a police officer who wanted to confiscate a vendor’s goods in the Tehran subway. Women inside the wagon rushed to save the vendor, pulling her and her goods inside. The collective struggle to reclaim public spaces has emboldened women, many of whom now proclaim, “I have become braver.”

But the Mahsa movement has not been limited to women’s rights alone. The movement initially protested against mandatory hijab but, like an umbrella, it now encompasses a range of other issues in Iran, including the unbearable economic challenges and ethnic and religious discrimination. Protesters have also been calling for the overthrow of the Islamic Republic. Yet, the state’s brutal suppression of these protests underscores the complexity of achieving political goals such as regime change. According to Jack Goldstone, a scholar of social movements, the Mahsa movement continues to lack some of the key factors needed for a full-scale revolution, such as an organised programme and the involvement of older generations.

The conflict between Iranian authorities and Iranian women dates back to the establishment of the Islamic Republic in 1979, when women’s rights were among the first to be compromised. Women did come to the streets to protest against the enactment of the compulsory hijab law and abrogation of the family protection law in March 1979—but the state prevailed in curtailing women’s rights. Four decades later, despite various policies, ideological education, and unequal laws aimed at curbing their economic, social, and political opportunities, Iranian girls and women are trying to break free from traditional gender roles.

What is undeniable today is the Iranian women’s desire for both “freedom” and an “ordinary life.” These two desires resonate strongly in my conversations with many Iranian women from around the country. Iranian women have made strides in education despite numerous obstacles. They are rising against gender-based oppression and have exhibited remarkable resilience in their quest. However, their economic participation remains disproportionately low, forcing many into the informal economy. Women are also denied the right to run for president, and the majority are disqualified to run for public office.

The Iranian state has persistently attempted to exclude women from various spheres, yet they persist in resisting. They aspire to careers as diverse as football referees, aerospace engineers, mathematicians, musicians, and much more. The evolving lifestyle of ordinary women highlights the failure of the Islamic Republic’s discourse in imposing gender roles. Their fight for the freedom to choose how they dress is just one aspect of the broader rights they seek. According to political scientist Fatemeh Sadeghi, the actions of Iranian women are not rooted in anger. Rather, they represent the transformation of anger into a force for change. Accordingly, political change, in their view, will emerge from social empowerment. These women are, in essence, revolutionaries without a revolution. They do not want to achieve freedom through revolution. They aim to achieve revolution through freedom.

Photo: Rouzbeh Fouladi