Iran: The fight for ‘Women, Life, Freedom’ carries on underground

FORCED UNDERGROUND

Six months on, at least outwardly, life appears to have returned to normal. 

Public demonstrations are less frequent and, when they do happen, smaller in size and intensity. The 22,000 demonstrators who were arrested – many of whom faced physical, psychological and sexual torture while in custody – have recently been pardoned. 

But as the Islamic Republic prepares to celebrate its national day on 1 April, the flames of protest still flicker below the surface. Protesters are regrouping, finding new ways of resisting and asking themselves if they’re prepared, like Mahsa Amini, to pay the ultimate price for freedom. 

“The protests in Iran have changed form,” says Omid Shams, a UK-based human rights lawyer who has been documenting human rightsviolationsduring the protests. He points to the anti-government graffiti that is still splashed across walls all over the country. Every time those defiant slogans are wiped clean, they reappear within days.

Part of the reason the initial wave has subsided, says Mr Shams, was a lack of leadership and a clear plan of action.

The unrest continues, albeit more hidden than before. In the evenings, the now familiar chant of “women, life, freedom” still echoes from apartment windows. And public banners glorifying the Islamic Republic’s leaders are defaced and destroyed.

These are still punishable offences, but not as risky as gathering on the streets. 

Social media platforms like Instagram, TikTok and Twitter, which protesters are accessing illegally, have become another battlefield, with photos and videos that cross the regime’s rigid boundaries regularly uploaded.

The latest video to go viral was posted on TikTok on 8 March to mark International Women’s Day. In defiance of the country’s modesty laws, five teenage girls danced to Calm Down by Rema and Selena Gomez without headscarves and wearing crop tops.

According to @shahrak_ekbatan, their neighbourhood Twitter account, the teenagers were later detained by security forces. They were made to delete the video and replace it with a new one, where they appear wearing headscarves and loose clothing, expressing remorse, saying “they’d made a mistake”. 

In response, women and girls in Iran, and abroad, have started sharing videos of themselves following the same dance routine without head coverings. 

LIVING IN FEAR

“People can’t stay out on the streets forever,” explains Mahmood*, a twenty-something who has been part of the movement since the start. “We demonstrated for 100 days straight. Now it’s time to try something new.”

Mahmood has paid the price for his part in the protests. He was seriously injured when police broke up a demonstration. As he was running away, a motorbike caught up with him. His next memory is the sound of gunshots and feeling a sharp, burning pain in his body, as if he was being “electrocuted”.

X-rays later revealed he had 250 shotgun pellets buried in his back.

“A revolution isn’t going to happen in just a couple of months,” says Sara*, a 21-year-old university student. “Big changes require more time and planning.”

Mahmood tells me that people are taking down CCTV cameras and “planning other forms of heavier attacks”.

As part of the crackdown, there have been reports of Iran’s security forces systematically targeting protesters’ eyes and genitals. Hundreds of protesters, many verified by Mr Shams’s team, have reported being blinded so far.

“I live in fear of being identified as a protester,” says Mahmood, who still has more than 200 gunshot pellets in his back after being operated on for four hours. “I can’t go through any metal detecting gates at shopping centres or airports.” 

Among the protesters who have been caught, there have been a series of forced confessions, hasty trials and four public executions. Dozens of others, including some minors, were given the death sentence.

Iran is one of the last countries in the world where juvenile offenders can be executed, with the age of legal responsibility only nine years old for girls, compared with 15 for boys. 

The international community has failed Iranians, says Mr Shams, by not taking real action to hold the regime accountable.

But none of the protesters I’ve spoken to are convinced the regime has won. Sara points out that protests are happening at more regular intervals.

There was the 2009 “Green Movement” which started in the wake of the June presidential election and lasted until early 2010. It was sparked by allegations of rigged ballots in favour of the then-president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.

Its supporters adopted the colour green as a symbol of hope and democracy. Despite its initial momentum, the Green Movement failed to bring about significant change in Iran’s political system, and many of its leaders were forced into exile.

Then in November 2019, an increase in fuel prices sparked a series of protests across more than 100 cities and towns. Demonstrators called for economic reforms, an end to government corruption and greater political freedom. The Iranian government responded with a violent crackdown, resulting in hundreds of deaths and thousands of arrests.

Mahmood echoes this view: “The poor, rich, middle class, whatever your gender, sexuality, ethnicity or religion, we are all now fighting against a common enemy.”