by Nina Ansary
And so it was in Paris that the groundwork for a full-blown revolution was solidified.4 Khomeini’s sermons reflecting his vision of an “Islamic utopia” and a return to cultural authenticity via Shiism had mass appeal that would ultimately overturn the Pahlavi regime.5
By 1979, large-scale social and political discontent brought about the dissolution of the monarchy and the institution of Ayatollah Khomeini’s Islamic Republic of Iran.
February 1, 1979: The return of Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini to Iran.
The baffling mass participation of secular and religious women against the Shah, Tehran, c. 1978.
WHY DID WOMEN SUPPORT KHOMEINI?
Initially, Khomeini’s followers constituted a somewhat diverse group, and their mobilization around a common platform ultimately ensured the revolution’s victory. As for the female population, while it makes sense that those from conservative backgrounds would embrace Khomeini’s sermons, how does one account for the support provided by many accomplished women who had gained substantially from reforms undertaken by the Pahlavis? What would lure those who were direct beneficiaries of the Shah’s emancipatory agenda to gravitate toward the Ayatollah’s populist Islamic ideology?
As mentioned previously, Nobel Laureate Shirin Ebadi, one of the first women to become a judge in Iran during the reign of Mohammad Reza Shah, nevertheless supported the revolutionary movement. In her memoir, Ebadi explains her initial attraction—and that of many other like-minded women—to Khomeini’s rhetoric:
Faith occupied a central role in our middle-class lives.… Who did I have more in common with, in the end: an opposition led by the mullahs who spoke in the tones familiar to ordinary Iranians or the gilded court of the Shah, whose officials cavorted with American starlets at parties soaked in expensive French champagne? … Most of the country identified far more with the opposition.… Among these opposition groups, the mullahs’ voices were the loudest; it was the clergy whose network of mosques spread out across the country, who had standing centers from which to raise their voices and organize. It did not seem so alarming that the mullahs should take the lead.… As the days went by, the fervor touched everyone around me and we all looked for ways to participate.6
Whether the Shah and his officials actually cavorted with American starlets and drank expensive European champagne, Ebadi’s characterization of the monarchy was one that was shared by many middle class Iranians back then, including women.
Shirin Ebadi
In fact, in her memoir published shortly after the revolution, the Shah’s twin sister, Princess Ashraf Pahlavi, sheds additional light on this baffling phenomenon. A powerful advocate of women’s rights in Iran, she reflected on whether this class of women could ever have identified with the newly adopted Western standards:
Persia’s backward conditions were relics of social traditions … and the women for that matter weren’t ready to exchange the protection they had traditionally enjoyed for the unknowns of a new social status.7
In contemplating the insurmountable task of implementing such monumental changes, she candidly admits:
It is equally obvious and it became clear … that no ruler can legislate a social revolution. He can implement the outward form of social change, but he cannot legislate change in the minds of the people. Stable and lasting change has to evolve slowly and gradually over a period of many generations.8
What signaled the beginning of the end … was the radical modernization program, which virtually affected every aspect of Iranian life … [including] the sweeping emancipation of women, which moved as it were 13 centuries in the course of three decades.9
The Pahlavi regime’s swift, far-reaching changes, the Princess concludes, led Iranians to see “all modernization as a sacrifice of old values in exchange for those of the decadent godless West.”10 In her final departure from Iran at the cusp of the revolutionary upheaval, the reality of such extremes unfolded before Pahlavi’s eyes:
As I flew over, I saw that one corner was completely dark. A moment later I realized this black mass was a mass of Iranian women— women who had achieved the highest levels of emancipation in the Middle East. Here they were in the mournful black chador [veil] their grandmothers had worn. My God, I thought. Is this how it ends?11
While the mobilization of various disgruntled groups around an anti-Shah platform ensured the revolution’s victory, the mass participation of women perhaps constitutes the insurgency’s most shocking aspect.12 For Guity Nashat, professor of Islamic and Middle Eastern history at the University of Illinois at Chicago, the paradox lies in the fact that “women in general, including the most westernized individuals and groups, came out strongly against a regime that purportedly was helping free them from the bonds of oppression.”13 Draped in the “flag of the revolution,” women from diverse backgrounds contributed to a major transformation in Iran—for various reasons. Some wanted the revolution to result in national independence; others hoped it would result in a revitalized culture reflecting true Shiite values.14
Ali Ansari is among the distinguished group of scholars who maintain that the ambiguous nature of the revolution was instrumental in assuring its success. By appealing to disparate groups that opposed the Shah, Khomeini ultimately succeeded in reinstituting a clergy-state alliance.15 And as for the patronage provided by women, it seems that many may have been misled by Khomeini’s early pronouncements. In fact, a close examination reveals an often vague rhetoric, which could be misconstrued as egalitarian. For instance, in 1978 the Ayatollah stated the following in a message delivered to Iranian women from France:
We are proud that our women, young and old, are active in the educational and economic field … forwarding the goals of Islam and the Holy Koran. Any nation that has women like the women of Iran will surely be victorious.16
And in an interview given to a German publication in that same year, he further declared:
In an Islamic Republic, women have complete freedom in everything they do, just as men are free—in everything.17
In a correspondence with the Guardian newspaper in Paris, Khomeini again reiterated:
Women are free in the Islamic Republic—in the selection of their activities, in their future, and their clothing … 18
However, once in power, Ayatollah Khomeini radically shifted from his previously stated views, proclaiming to Italian journalist Orianna Fallaci:
The women who contributed to the revolution were and are in Islamic dress, not elegant women at all, made up like you, who go around dragging behind the tail of men. Those who put on makeup and go into the street showing off their necks, their hair … did not fight against the Shah. They never did anything good—Not those! They do not know how to be useful, neither socially, nor politically, nor professionally.19
In fact, A Clarification of Questions, Khomeini’s discourse on the appropriate conduct of the devout, categorically testifies to his personal ideology regarding the position of women:
A woman who has been contracted permanently must not leave the house without the husband’s permission and must surrender herself for any pleasure that he wants.… If she obeys the husband … the provision of her food, clothing and dwelling is obligatory for the husband. If the wife does not obey her husband … she is a sinner and has no right to clothing, food and shelter.20
In retrospect, such misogynistic declarations are not surprising, as Khomeini had always subscribed to such principles, as evidenced by his opposition to women’s enfranchisement and other liberating measures initiated during the Pahlavi regime. And yet his earlier statements seemed to promise an Islamic Republic in which women would “have complete freedom in everything they do.” Were these pronouncements mere public relations—meant to pacify potential critics and entice women to join in his revolutionary movement? In the immediate aftermath of the revolution, it became quite obvious that the Ayatollah’s assertions regarding women’s promised “freedom” represented nothing more than a disingenuous platform to amass support.
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In reality, it took very little time for the post-revolutionary euphoria to subside. Once Khomeini took the reins, many of his female supporters, including Shirin Ebadi, became profoundly disillusioned. Stripped of her judgeship, as Islamic law prohibits women from serving as judges, she expressed her misconceptions about the revolution she had initially supported:
It took scarcely a month for me to realize that, in fact, I had willingly and enthusiastically participated in my own demise. I was a woman, and this revolution demanded my defeat … My naiveté astounds me.21
A NEW AND VIRTUOUS ORDER
With his triumphant comeback on February 1, 1979, the Ayatollah designated himself Iran’s Supreme Leader, a position incorporated into the Constitution and regarded as the highest political and religious authority of the nation. Now the country would be governed according to the principles of Islamic law, thus ushering in “a new and virtuous order” in which secular affairs would conform to divine mandates.22 Sharia law would replace secular law in every sphere of life: political, social, judicial, and economic. A significant part of the economy would be transferred from private to government hands. And the state under the Islamic Republic would dictate the standards of morality—from attire to family life to music.23 The regime’s outlook toward the West, and America in particular, was reflected in its declarations against the “great Satan” accompanied by the slogan “death to America” (marg bar amrika).24
The initial phase of the new administration was characterized by rapid Islamization, reinforcing patriarchal mandates within a legalized framework. Unquestionably, the enormous impact of this cultural upheaval was reflected in the overall status of women, who once again were entangled in clerical doctrine that justified their second-class standing. Iran’s extreme ideological shift was a backward jolt for women. While the regime hailed women as guardians of the private sphere, it simultaneously instigated decrees depriving them of the rights and opportunities they had gained during the Pahlavi era.
These decrees included the abolition of the Family Protection Laws; reduction of the minimum marriage age to thirteen (changed in 1991 to fifteen); reinstitution of Islamic Retribution Laws (Qesas) stipulating that the “blood money” (diyeh) for women is half that of men, as is their share of inheritance; and reinstitution of temporary marriage (sigheh).25 The practice of temporary marriage involves a valid contract that allows a couple to get married for anywhere from a few minutes to as long as ninety-nine years. Since Islam dictates that women be virgins when they get married, temporary marriage “legally wraps premarital sex in an Islamic code.… A married man can have as many temporary wives as he wants, and up to four permanent ones, and can break the contract anytime he wants, whereas women cannot.” 26
The overall status of women was shrouded in restrictions, with patriarchal pronouncements ingrained in the Civil Code and the Constitution of the Islamic Republic. In the Preamble to the Constitution, the separateness of “male” and “female” attributes was highlighted specifically where the previous regime strove to omit such distinctions:
The family is the fundamental unit of society and the main center for the growth and edification of human beings.… The view of the family unit delivers women from being regarded as an object or instrument in the service of promoting consumerism and exploitation. Not only does a woman recover thereby her momentous and precious function of motherhood and rearing ideologically committed human beings, she also assumes a pioneering social role … Given the weighty responsibilities that a woman thus assumes, she is accorded in Islam great value and nobility.27
The Islamic regime thus meant to convey that the new constitutional decrees would liberate women from being treated as “objects”—and enable them to take on the pioneering role of raising “ideologically committed human beings.” In fact, the constitution’s definition of “the rights of women” is supremely ironic. Article 21 of the Islamic Constitution ensures “the rights of women in all aspects, in conformity with Islamic criteria,” implying that the laws applicable to the female population are subject to religious interpretation. In other words, women are ensured their rights, as long as those rights conform to the dictates of the patriarchal religious establishment.
And what are some of these dictates? Article 105 specifies that “in a relationship between a man and a woman, the man is responsible as head of the family.” Article 1117 of the Civil Code incorporates stipulations such as “a husband may ban his wife from any technical profession that conflicts with family life or her character.”28 Article 907 of the Civil Code stipulates that when a father dies, his son(s) are entitled to twice as much as his daughter(s).29 And Article 1108 states: “If the wife refuses to fulfill the duties of a wife without a legitimate excuse, she will not be entitled to nafaqa (maintenance).” “Maintenance” refers to the husband’s duty to financially support his wife. Among the wife’s “duties” are sexual submission and obedience (tamkin).30
Further sealing the fate of the female population were laws prohibiting women from the presidency and judgeships, along with compulsory veiling and gender segregation in communal arenas.
All of these laws were instigated for the purpose of redirecting women into what the clerical establishment saw as a female’s “primary role in society: domestic responsibility.”31
THE INHIBITING/LIBERATING VEIL
The most visible change initiated in the immediate aftermath of the revolution was that all women were now required to wear the veil (hijab or head covering) in public. How women felt about this requirement depended on their background and their own personal ideological disposition.
Assumed by some to be synonymous with an inferior status, the veil is, for many outsiders, symbolic of the radical gender policies of Iran’s revolutionary leaders. However, the issue of this mysterious black garment needs to be framed within the context of a fundamentally conservative society beholden to religious customs.
In his pursuit of a progressive agenda, Reza Shah had enacted a strict policy prohibiting the veil. Although his son abandoned the enforcement of this law, a majority of the country’s conservative population continued to be resentful of the trend toward a westernized dress code during the Pahlavi era. While restoration of the veil under the Islamic regime was shunned as an emblem of servitude by secular women, it was initially enthusiastically embraced by a large segment of women from traditional backgrounds.
The Islamic Republic’s veiling decree did not automatically lead to compliance by all women, nor did it inhibit some from articulating their contempt against a burdensome custom. And yet mandatory veiling was welcomed by millions of women who appreciated the integrity and modesty symbolized by, in their view, a liberating milestone. Ironically, they were now emancipated to a degree they had not previously enjoyed. Since they were now required to wear the veil in public, they felt comfortable leaving the confines of their homes, whether to go to school or the workplace. In other words, girls and adult women could now venture into territory they had previously avoided. Reinforcement of the veil thus legitimized their entry into the public domain.
Shirin Ebadi vividly recalls:
Girls went to class in their hejabs—Rehabilitated! Healthy! … A generation of women whose mothers had been tethered to the house found themselves in cities, reading books.… There was no pretext left for the patriarchs to keep their daughters out of school. Slowly, it became fashionable for the daughters of traditional families to attend college.32
Ebadi goes on to explain the manner in which imposition of this decree paradoxically empowered women who, despite rampant discrimination, became more active in public life:
The Islamic Republic had inadvertently championed traditional women.… For they had been given a new awareness of their rights, but only crude tools to advance them.33
For the conservative segment of the female population, the veil did not signify either confinement or a repressive ideology; rather, it was an empowering garment that enabled them to break thro
ugh previously impermeable boundaries.
Still, the veil continued to fuel conflict between the voices of tradition and modernity. Academy Award–nominated director and author Marjaneh Satrapi’s internationally bestselling graphic memoir, Persepolis: the Story of a Childhood, offers a compelling yet humorous depiction of opposing attitudes pertaining to the veil. In one panel of her book, women on the left side shout “The veil! The veil! The veil!” as those on the right chant “Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!” Satrapi’s caption reads: “Everywhere in the streets there were demonstrations for and against the veil! 34
Although many progressive-minded women elected to leave the country during the initial phase of the revolutionary transition, those who reluctantly remained did not isolate themselves based on this decree. One secular woman who radically opposed the veil recalls grudgingly conceding to cover herself. In her critically acclaimed bestseller, Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books, Dr. Azar Nafisi writes of returning to work as a university professor in the years following the revolution and resenting the loss of integrity that the veil represented:
It was not that piece of cloth that I rejected.… It was the transformation being imposed upon me that made me look in the mirror and hate the stranger I had become…that my integrity as a teacher and a woman was being compromised by its insistence that I wear the veil under false pretenses.…35
While the modern woman felt demeaned and restricted by her inability to choose her own attire, the conservative woman, who had felt vulnerable leaving her home unveiled during the Pahlavi era, now felt protected.
In the three-and-a-half decades since the revolution, re-veiling initially proved to be the ultimate salvation for a vast majority of the female population, allowing them to take advantage of a westernized educational infrastructure instituted by the monarchy. Therefore, in many ways, the unanticipated consequence of the veil was that it “empowered those it was meant to restrain.”36
