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

Iranian Women Face Uphill Battle Toward Equal Pay

In recent months, longstanding social issues Iran have taken a back seat to major economic challenges such as a sliding national currency, rampant corruption, and the return of sanctions. But social inequality has an economic cost too as proven by the gender pay gap and disparity in work opportunities for men and women in Iran.

According to data compiled by IranSalary, the country's first specialized online platform for remunerations, Iranian women earned 27 percent less on average than their male counterparts in the previous Iranian year (ended March 2018). The wage gap has widened in recent years, rising from an average of 23 percent three years ago. 

World Economic Forum's Global Gender Gap Report put Iran at a dismal rank of 140 in 2017, only ahead of Chad, Pakistan, Syria, and Yemen. Iran ranked 108 in 2006 among 115 nations. Iran's worst-performing index in 2017 was "economic participation and opportunity".

IranTalent, a leading jobs website and parent company of IranSalary, began collecting and publishing detailed data on Iran's employment market five years ago. Its statistical sample was initially around 30,000 people and has since grown to over 130,000 in its latest report.

"The thing that really spread in the press and in other circles from the very first year was the income gap," Aseyeh Hatami, the founder of IranTalent and IranSalary told Bourse & Bazaar. "Before that nobody had really examined this issue and hardly any awareness had been promoted around it".

"There are no written laws in Iran saying men have the right to earn more than women," she pointed out, but added that at the same time there are no laws that actively protect women's right for equal remuneration.

IranSalary's figures offer interesting insights into Iran's work environment. For instance, the wage gap increases with seniority. The few women who manage to climb their way up to a management position in a male-dominated system find that they earn as much as 47 percent less than male managers.

According to Hatami, the private sector is responsible for the majority of the gender pay gap in Iran’s labor market. That is not to say, however, that governments have been champions of equal pay. The reason behind their less significant role in widening the pay gap is that they have simply employed fewer women, especially in the higher echelons.

State-run companies are much less equal in dispersing job opportunities—just 25 percent of employees in state enterprises are women. That rate stands at 34 percent and 38 percent among private sector and foreign firms respectively. 

Another useful indicator in IranSalary numbers was the size of companies. Larger companies in Iran contribute to inequality—only 17 percent of their high-ranking managers are women. These companies are reluctant to admit their failure. "Even in our interviews with the big companies they said [the disparity] is not true and the reason behind the disparity is that men mostly earn more through overtime work since they take it on more than women," Hatami said, stressing that their data clearly signals otherwise.

On the other hand, she said figures show that married people are earning more than single workers, mostly since they employ their negotiating powers more.

On the whole, Iran suffers from a lack of transparent and comprehensive data across all its sectors. The job market is no different. IranTalent has managed to establish its reputation by gathering more than one million profiles from employers and employees.

The firm's CEO says it can help women and all jobskeers, leveraging this data to show them their potential professional trajectory in relation to their educational degree. "One major problem is that people don't even know what they can do in the future with the degree they're holding.”

For example, only 40 percent of people studying law actually become attorneys and legal counselors. Knowing that information will help Iranians—both men and women—carve out a better career path, Hatami hopes.

But what can be done to rectify the situation of the gender pay gap? Hatami does not hold out much hope for a major cultural shift both among officials and private sector employers, at least not in the short term. She points out that some hardliners in Iran still say women should not even be allowed to work.

She has felt the sting herself as well. "Most people are surprised the first time they find out the CEO of IranTalent is a woman." But she says she is sure that as women increasingly enter the work field, they bring positive change with them.

"We must work to create a more open and accepting culture that pays better attention to women's potential. But most importantly, women must start believing in themselves and negotiate for higher salaries when they are applying for a job," Hatami said.

She has not mounted an equality program in her company, but says they have managed parity through holding a simple view when taking on employees. For Hatami, "Talent and capabilities have always been central, not gender.”