Iran: the right to choose
“Has a new revolution begun? ”, “A revolution in progress”, “A turning point in Iran”. These article titles have continued in the United States, France and Canada since the death of Mahsa Zhina Amini on September 16. The world is watching and commenting on the actions of these Iranian women who are calling for the end of compulsory veiling.
In Quebec, the situation is rekindling divisive and chronic debates. The wearing of the veil is widely questioned, and the question is more pressing than ever. Faced with the torrent of comments and sub-debates, it is easy to forget the real issue, the main demand of Iranian women: women's right to self-determination. What if, to support these women, it was enough to listen to them and “leave them alone”?
“It was shocking, I cried a lot. I imagined myself in her, so young and innocent,” recalls Setareh Sadeqi, a doctor of American studies, an independent public policy researcher, teacher and translator, from her office in Isfahan, Iran, from her office in Isfahan, Iran. Mahsa Zhina (her Kurdish first name) Amini, a 22-year-old Kurdish student, died on September 16 in Tehran, while incarcerated by the morality police (“orientation police” in Farsi) for wearing her headscarf incorrectly.
Established following the 1979 Islamic Revolution by Ayatollah Khomeini, wearing a veil is mandatory for women and girls over the age of nine. Punishments, in case of derogation, range from arrest to beatings and flogging, to prison stay. “It is unacceptable to be treated like this,” Ms. Sadeqi continues in a calm voice.
Zhina's death was the spark that ignited Iran. Many women storm the streets of the country, take off their veils, sometimes burn them. They demand the end of the obligation to wear a veil and the morality police. Men, boys, and families are joining them. Very quickly, demands evolved and diversified, along with them the very strong demand to overthrow the regime. Workers and retailers are doing the same. The State responds by suppressing demonstrations, but also by blocking access to the Internet, particularly in Kurdistan and Sistan-Baluchistan.
To the name of Mahsa Amini, we can add that of Hananeh Kian, 23, Mahsa Mogoi, 18, Ghazaleh Chalab, 32, and at least 180 other adults and children killed during the protests, according to the latest figures from Iran Human Rights (IHR).
Ancient anger
The subject is going viral on social networks, and the media is taking hold of it. Quickly, newspapers and magazines around the world announced a “revolution in progress” in Iran. For Ms. Sadeqi, the situation is more nuanced. “There are a lot of exaggerations,” she cautions, explaining that these protests are unique, but also do not come out of nowhere.
The female body has been used for a long time in Iran. Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi banned the wearing of the veil in 1921. “SAVAK, the secret political police of the time, pulled the veil off women's heads,” says Hanieh Ziaei, an Iranologist attached to the Raoul-Dandurand Chair at UQAM. Since the Islamic Revolution and the imposition of the veil, women have regularly revolted in an attempt to regain their rights, such as during the #MercredisBlancs in 2017 and thanks to a multitude of feminist movements and campaigns organized over the years. “The veil was torn off and then imposed on them, but without asking their opinion,” summarizes Hanieh Ziaei.
Moreover, the population is also not silent in the face of the economic crisis, religious and political ideology and corruption. In 2019, the working class revolted against the rise in fuel prices and the suffocating economic situation; 1,500 demonstrators were killed.
“It didn't get much coverage, even though workers are important! In terms of numbers today, we are far from the 2019 protests,” says Setareh Sadeqi, recalling that the Toronto demonstration brought together more supporters.
“On the other hand, this year is the first time that women are in the spotlight,” she admits. Apart from the famous “Women, Life, Freedom” (a Kurdish slogan of the Kurdistan Workers' Party (PKK) (a Kurdish slogan for which the revolution was made with women) sung and repeated everywhere, the demonstrators also shout “Death to the dictator” and “Death to the regime”. This has become a key demand of the protests.
Pride
Hana — who prefers to keep her last name quiet — is wary of Western media and wanted to ensure the validity of our approach before agreeing to testify. Saying that she is “proud to be an Iranian woman”, she fervently confirms that the situation is more nuanced than the media portrays it.
Originally from the southwest of the country, Hana defines herself as being “half Arab, half Persian”. After living in Australia for eight years, she returned to her native country last summer without a hijab. She did not wear it in Australia and wanted to continue like this in Iran. “A lot of people warned me, but I didn't listen to them, I wanted to fight for my freedom,” she explains from her apartment in Tehran, the country's capital.
She too has already been arrested and questioned. But before Mahsa Amini died, she walked the streets of Tehran without a veil. And everything was going well. She said she saw a lot fewer police officers than eight years ago. “It's not just me doing the heroin by not wearing a hijab. Changes are happening fast in Iran, women dare to make changes for themselves,” she says loud and clear.
Hana has not yet participated in the protests. “I just went to observe one. I regret that the demonstrations are disparate, without a clear message or sometimes organized by groups whose values I refuse to accept,” shares the young woman.
She is wary of “separatist and terrorist” groups that prepare demonstrations, but also of groups that tolerate or request foreign interference. “I would participate in a demonstration tomorrow if the call was made by other groups, and if the demonstration called for the end of the mandatory wearing of the hijab and the end of the police of morals,” she declares.
Media coverage
To understand the current protests, you must also look at the various demands and understand the multitude of interest groups. Starting with local and regional groups, which, as in every movement, are numerous and each has its own agenda.
As Hana does in selecting the media in which she testifies, journalist and speaker at Toronto Metropolitan University and the University of Toronto Shenaz Kermalli recommends being careful about misinformation and the sources you listen to and use. On her social networks, like many others, she warns Internet users about what they read.
Beyond the influence of these groups and the information war, as explained in an article by CNN, Ms. Kermalli is also studying Western media coverage of the protests.
Since September 16, the diaspora has been mobilizing and organizing impressive walks, such as the one that brought together 50,000 people in Toronto on October 1. At the same time, figures from the diaspora are outraged and are using their influence to talk about the situation, such as the controversial journalist Masih Alinejad. Numerous political, media and cultural figures of all origins are thus joining the movement and Film cutting their hair.
Faced with such international support, the women we met are all wondering why the world is listening to Iranian women in 2022. “The 2019 uprisings did not garner as much attention; why does it take a burnt scarf to talk about them? ” asks Shenaz Kermalli.
Some see this as a consequence of the #MeToo movement, which was five years old in October and which would have allowed for the beginning of a freedom of speech, but also to create more space to talk about sexist and sexual violence and patriarchy. The influence of regional and international actors is often singled out: Saudi Arabia for example, but also the United States or Israel.
For Ms. Kermalli, Canadian media coverage is similar to American coverage. “There is a pattern of complacency about Middle East politics. Mainstream media tend to cover issues in the Middle East and Asia with less skepticism and criticism,” she explains. A good example of this is the war in Iraq, whose poor Western coverage is studied in journalism schools, the media having based themselves on reports from news agencies. “When you do that, you're not helping the people there,” concludes Ms. Kermalli.
The weight of the hijab
Among the reasons that may explain the interest of Western media, there is also the veil. Hijab is a hot topic in many societies. In France, for example, the protests in Iran are exacerbating the debate. Many political and media personalities are using the Iranian women's revolt to justify the fact that Islam is a threat to society.
In Quebec too, the subject is commented on. It was especially the statement of the Deputy of Quebec Solidaire Christine Labrie, on September 1, that caused a reaction. For her, the ban on the wearing of veils in Quebec is also “a form of oppression” — which is a direct reference to Bill 21, which came into force in June 2019 and prohibits the wearing of religious symbols when offering a government service.
The deputy, who was then running for re-election, was vilified by commentators, who argued that the veil is above all “a symbol of oppression”, not a garment that one chooses to wear freely. For them, one cannot support the liberation of women in Iran without supporting the liberation of Muslim women in the province through secularism.
However, for Ms. Kermalli, the answer is clear. “If you support women in Iran, you also support those who want to decide what to wear in their country. They all have the right to choose.” The speaker recalls that Iranian women mostly burn their veil because they see it as a symbol of the state. “But, in our part of the world, when a woman burns her headscarf in Iran, we see this as an argument to say: “I told you, it's a symbol of oppression against Muslim women!” ” illustrates the journalist, regretting that a certain Islamophobia could underlie this kind of discourse. Since September 16, hateful acts have also targeted the Muslim community in Canada. So, The Imam Mahdi Mosque in Thornhill, Ontario was vandalized and, in Montreal North, three hate incidents against veiled women have taken place.
A violent obligation
The same goes for Noroozi, a lecturer in the philosophy of education and a specialist in colonization and time issues from Iran. She grew up in Tehran before moving to Montreal for her studies. “Ideally, I would like to go back to teach there,” she shares.
She recalls that the demonstrators are not protesting against the veil, but against the state obligation to wear it. “It is a symbol. The obligation to wear it is oppressive,” explains the philosopher. According to her, we cannot compare Iran and Quebec, and she believes that banning the veil in Quebec is violent: “Yes, in Quebec, the veil may have been imposed on some Muslim women by their families, but at least they could go outside. With a law like Bill 21, choices are being taken away from them. Without a veil, they can't be in public anymore. It is a double oppression.”
And then, behind these media and political reactions, there is a very “colonial” aspect, according to the philosopher. “I am a specialist in colonization and time, and I don't use this word lightly! It's colonial to say you want to see Iranian women free, as if you were freeing them from savagery,” she said. A detailed perspective in various studies, including That of the journalist Kenza Bennis, published in 2021, on Muslim Quebec women : “These women are perceived as being subject to the domination of the men of their culture. The Western media debate thus adopts a patronizing vision and infantilizes these women by not giving them a voice and speaking for them.”
Stop sanctions
“Leave us alone”, many are calling from Iran. Before we met, Nassim asked members of his Twitter community to send their requests to a Canadian media outlet. The wishes of Internet users echo those of the researchers and Iranian people interviewed in this article.
“When I see other governments criticize when they are doing no better, I think it's hypocritical. I want everyone who is abroad to stay out of this movement,” asks Setareh Sadeqi. She would prefer that, rather than engaging in debates, Quebecers and, more generally, Canadians talk about what concerns them and what they can control. Starting with the sanctions imposed on Iran by countries like the United States and Canada.
Since October 3, Global Affairs Canada has published four press releases to announce the expansion of the list of persons and entities sanctioned by Ottawa, either prohibited from staying or participating in transactions. The United States, which has imposed sanctions on Iran since 1979, did the same, condemning the violation of human rights. “We should not fall into the trap of seeing sanctions as liberating for the population. You cannot achieve democracy under sanctions,” recalls Nassim.
For its part, the ministry, contacted by email, simply wrote that “the latest sanctions respond to the gross violations of human rights and ongoing state-sponsored disinformation activities committed by Iran.” Spokesman Jason Kung did not comment on the request to end sanctions, but explained that “Canada sees sanctions as a complementary tool among other foreign policy tools.”
Nassim and Ms. Sadeqi are especially calling for the return of the Iranian Nuclear Agreement (JCPoA) “to truly help the population”. Signed in 2015 by six major powers and Iran, this agreement fell apart after the withdrawal of the United States, decided by Donald Trump in 2018. The agreement sought to control Iran's nuclear program and the lifting of certain economic sanctions. Since 2018, the economic crisis has worsened in Iran, inflation has increased and access to certain treatments and medicines has become more difficult.
All of these sanctions also have an impact on the mobility of Iranian men and women. “Countries like Canada have made travel difficult for Iranian women. It is also more difficult to apply for academic journals that come from Iranian academics,” she says.
How to help?
Of course, you can ask your government to end sanctions, but beyond that, the women interviewed believe that you should especially pay attention to who you read, listen to, or talk to by examining their affiliations and position. Checking your sources to avoid misinformation also means questioning the vocabulary and hyperboles used to talk about Iran in general and these protests.
For her part, Hana urges Canadians to focus on their own battles. “If you are a woman in France, Australia, or Canada, free yourself from the oppression you tolerate from your own government,” she advises. For her, a politicized Canadian is responsible for his government. “You have to learn about the positions taken by the Canadian government and where they come from,” she continues vehemently, referring to the Petition “problem” which asks G7 members to withdraw their embassies from Iran.
A position that echoes the debate on how artists and feminists in Quebec should speak out. They were criticized for not taking a position on the situation in Iran. Faced with this attack, the feminist and screenwriter Kim Lévesque-Lizotte spoke out on social networks and in the media: “As a feminist, I mainly speak out on causes that concern me, that concern society, that I feel that I control, or on injustices”, she told QUB radio. To which Hana answers bluntly: “Don't worry about me and my country. You don't know my needs as an Iranian woman. We are here, we know what we need.”
For more information:
- You can consult a List of reliable sources posted by Setareh Sadeqi on his Twitter account.
- Before the death of Mahsa Zhina Amini, Setareh Sadeqi campaigned for the use of the term “Guidance Patrol” rather than “morality police”, which does not reflect the fact that women wearing the veil may want to wear the veil while supporting the dissolution of this police force.
- What journalists need to know when covering Iran, an article by Devin Windelspecht that contains some tips.
- To know the context behind these protests, which are not new, an article by Hanieh Ziaei.
- Rethinking Global Sisterhood. Western Feminism and Iran, a book by Nima Naghibi