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CBC
26-05-2025
- Politics
- CBC
These women are defying Iran's hijab laws — despite fear of reprisal
The face of Tehran has been undergoing an extraordinary transformation in recent months, some neighbourhoods seeming to channel Beirut as much as the capital of the Islamic Republic where headscarves — or hijabs — have been mandatory for women for 45 years. Less than three years after the brutal crackdown on the protests that followed the death of Mahsa Amini in police custody for an alleged dress code violation, a growing number of women are daring to bare their heads in public. They're not a majority, but on any given day in north Tehran's popular Tajrish Square, you'll find a mixture of women with and without headscarves. Some don't even wear them around their necks anymore, where they could be pulled up quickly if the decision to go bare-headed is challenged. "We young people have decided to live the way we like," said Laylah, a 30-year-old self-employed woman out shopping with her mother. The authorities "need to understand that we want to be free, comfortable and liberated." Like all the women interviewed in this story who were not wearing a headscarf, Laylah did not provide her last name for fear of repercussions for defying her country's hijab laws. A divided perspective on change Some analysts believe the Woman, Life, Freedom protest movement sparked by Amini's death in 2022 is here to stay. That the number of women — young and old — defying the hijab law is so great the regime will be unable to reverse it. Others say Iran's ruling clerics are allowing what's happening to continue because it suits their purposes at this time, noting that stories like this one, which highlight the seemingly dramatic change on the streets, actually distract from the draconian and often sinister ways the state continues to punish women who disobey. "I think that the authorities, frankly, are getting more clever about how they carry out their reprisals," said Nassim Papayianni, a senior Iran campaigner with Amnesty International based in London. The white vans used by Iran's controversial morality police are still visible on the streets of Tehran. But on a recent — and rare — reporting trip to the city, our crew didn't witness police make any arrests or bully those women not wearing the hijab. "What they're doing is just trying to adapt in a system that they think won't draw as much international attention," Papayianni said. "I think they know if they arrest women's rights defenders or women and girls for defying compulsory veiling that there will be a lot of international attention on that." The methods regularly used by authorities to enforce a dress code in place since just after the 1979 Islamic Revolution range from financial penalties to lashings or jail terms. And just because women are choosing to defy the law doesn't mean they are not afraid of repercussions. "I am afraid; I have concerns," said Saha, a 33-year-old human resources worker wearing her long curly hair uncovered while out in public. "But I'm doing this because I want [any future child of mine] not to have the same fear as I do," she said, speaking in Farsi. The feeling on the street is different now, she said, because more men are supporting women in these actions — as are older generations. "My mother is quite religious," she said. "She observes the hijab dress code. But at a protest she was standing next to me." Saha said she'd already been arrested once, after being photographed driving her car while not wearing a headscarf. New surveillance techniques Surveillance methods employed by state security forces are growing increasingly sophisticated. A United Nations report released in March found that drones, facial recognition technology and security cameras were being employed to monitor women's compliance. There is also an app the public can apply to the police to use that allows approved citizens to report on women deemed to be flouting the rules, said the report, authored by the Independent International Fact-finding Mission on the Islamic Republic of Iran. The same body determined in 2024 that the state was responsible for the "physical violence" that led to Amini's death in 2022. There are other societal pressures at play. Many restaurants in Tehran put up signs requesting that women comply with headscarf rules, reminding customers that the restaurant could be closed down if women refused. "They're trying to pull in, you know, private business owners to essentially police women's bodies," said Amnesty's Papayianni. One woman who was happy to talk to a foreign news crew off the record said she couldn't have her picture taken without a headscarf for fear it would ruin her chances for a job in the public school system. Another woman said she didn't want any photos taken that "the mullahs" — the Islamic clergy leaders — could use to harass her. Stiffer penalties Last fall, Iran's parliament approved a new hijab and chastity law that would impose even tougher punishments on women violating dress codes: steeper fines and prison sentences of up to 15 years. So far, Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian has shied away from putting the legislation forward with his signature. He campaigned for last year's presidential election with promises to ease restrictions on women. But conservative hardliners close to Iran's ultimate power, the Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, have been pushing for the legislation to be implemented. "Unfortunately [unveiled women] have been influenced by Western culture," said Fatemeh Hojat, a 43-year-old mother wearing a full chador. "And the fact that the hijab law is not implemented properly in the country has exacerbated this issue," she said. WATCH | Mahsa Amini's death in custody sparked worldwide protest: Canada's Iranian community permeated with sense of uncertainty 3 years ago Duration 5:06 Members of Canada's largest Iranian community react to the ongoing violence in Iran as security forces intensify their crackdown. The latest reports say at least 13 people have been killed in the Kurdish region of Iran as security forces use live ammunition to quell anti-government demonstrations that started following the death of 22-year-old Mahsa Amini in September. The undercurrent of fear that many of the women ignoring the hijab laws say they still carry with them could suggest a calm before the proverbial storm. Some analysts say the regime isn't cracking down harder on these daily acts of defiance because, right now, it can't afford the mass protests that might spark. Many of Iran's regional allies or proxies have suffered hits over the past year, just as Washington is exerting pressure on Iran in pursuit of a nuclear agreement to its liking. But there's also no doubt that the actions of an increasing number of Iranian women are seen as a challenge to Iran's theocracy. And periods of perceived reform or liberalism in the past have often been met with violent crackdowns. Laylah from Tajrish Square admits it's a possibility. "Good things will happen again," she said. "If they want to take away our freedom, we will try again to win freedom [...] and to live the way we want to live."
ABC News
29-04-2025
- Politics
- ABC News
Meet the Indigenous-Aboriginal Party of Australia. Here's what they stand for
Running for the Senate at just 20 years old is exactly where Laylah Al-Saimary once pictured herself. "I was really quiet as a child, and I didn't speak my mind," she said. "As I grew older, and I grew the confidence and a bit of rage as well, I kind of just started speaking out." Laylah Al-Saimary says young people need to be represented more now than ever. ( Supplied ) Stay updated: Catch the latest interviews and in-depth coverage on The Barkandji woman from the regional NSW town of Mungo left for the big city lights of Melbourne in March to study nursing. It's here that she is campaigning to make change for her community, and for younger generations. "I've always loved politics … I've always just wanted to voice my opinion," she said. Laylah is a member of the Indigenous-Aboriginal Party of Australia (IAPA). Registered in 2021, it's the only all-Indigenous political party in Australia. If elected, Laylah wants to address drug and alcohol addiction in young people, climate change, affordable housing, education and to implement more mentorship programs to connect young people with positive role models. This federal election will be the first time Climate change is one of the issues Laylah wants to address this election. ( ABC News: Tim Swanston ) "Us young people, really we hold the future in our hands; we're going to shape the next generation," she said. Young people are more tapped into politics than ever before, and highly attuned to global affairs thanks to their mobile phones, according to Laylah. "I think this generation has a really good idea … [and] can really see what's going on, like the climate change and all of that," she said. Laylah wants a seat at the table to help drive change for young people and her community. ( Supplied ) Laylah said Indigenous representation at all levels of government was key to "encouraging Indigenous mob to love themselves and respect themselves". In the shadow of the Voice referendum defeat, the two major parties have ruled out constitutional recognition for Indigenous Australians in the next term of parliament. Labor is promising jobs and economic empowerment for Indigenous Australians while the Coalition said it would conduct an audit of "all government programs and expenditure" in Indigenous affairs. Read more about the federal election: Want even more? Here's where you can find all our 2025 The birth of Australia's only all-Indigenous political party Growing up in the western NSW town of Wilcannia, Owen Whyman says the Darling/Baaka River was a huge part of his childhood, a place that holds fond memories. "You were able to lean into the river and drink straight from the river, that's how good the water was … You wouldn't dare do that now," the Barkandji and Malyangapa man said. "I've got many stories of going to the river with my grandmother. The biggest problem now is, are my kids going to have them stories?" Owen Whyman is a keen rugby league player in the Darling River town of Wilcannia. ( ABC News: Declan Gooch ) That same river has made headlines in recent years for a series of fish kills. Watching the slow degradation of the waterway, Owen felt like he had to do something. It's what fuelled his passion to start the Indigenous-Aboriginal Party of Australia. "Our beloved Baaka river system, that's the reason why this party got created," he said. "For us to be able to keep our stories alive and to tell them we need that water flowing to keep our dream alive, that culture alive. The river is our mother, we have to protect that. "It's about protection of all rivers, creeks, billabongs, gorgeous natural springs right across Australia." The fish kills in the Darling/Baaka River motivated Owen Whyman to get into politics. ( Supplied: Rob Greggory ) What is the IAPA? Today, the Indigenous-Aboriginal party says it has close to 8,000 members from all corners of Australia, growing from 2,050 members when it was first registered with the AEC four years ago. "This is our second time round in the elections, so you know, I'm very proud of the party and where it is now," said Owen. The IAPA says it has grown from around 2,000 members to about 8,000 members since its formation in 2021. ( Supplied ) Along with protecting the waterways, priority areas for the IAPA include reducing the rates of Indigenous incarceration and of First Nations children in out-of-home care, and better housing and education. These are issues Owen is passionate about. He experienced many of them firsthand growing up. "I've been living in that situation as a young man growing up, struggling with housing and poor living conditions … Jobs were hard to come by and education was another thing," he said. "I chose to turn my life around to help others and to try and get a voice out there for our people to deal with these issues," he said. This federal election there are 40 Senate seats to be filled. The IAPA has nine candidates vying for those seats across NSW, VIC, QLD, NT and WA. Their preferences vary across the states and territories — mostly flowing to a host of left-wing minor parties and the Greens. For many, the major parties don't rate a mention. In the Northern Territory, Labor's Marion Scrymgour is ranked second on their how-to-vote cards. In Western Australia, the Liberal Party is placed second to last, followed only by Trumpet of Patriots. The IAPA says one of its main priorities is to address the high rates of Indigenous children in out-of-home care. ( ABC News: Shaun Kingma ) After the referendum result shuttered the Indigenous Voice to Parliament, Owen believes a party like theirs is an opportunity for representation at the decision-making table. "It's about getting the word out there that there is a party, and how we want to be a voice in parliament, not a voice to parliament," he said. "I think it's overdue … Let us get in there and try and fix things for our people." Facing issues head on Running on the IAPA ticket in Queensland is Kooma man and longtime Indigenous rights activist Wayne 'Coco' Wharton, who joined the party earlier this year. Wayne's driving inspiration for getting into politics was to improve the quality of life for First Nations people, particularly those living in the Torres Strait. Wayne Wharton has been a prominent Indigenous activist over the years, now hoping to take his voice to the parliament. ( Supplied ) "The climate change and housing and employment is a real big factor in the Straits. And particularly health," he said. "These people are dying because they don't have simple access to dialysis machines, and in 2025 that's ridiculous." Wayne believes independent and minor parties are the way forward. "The two-party preferred is a system that creates monopoly and creates a situation of distraction and deferment," he said. "So we really have to make the playing field level and accountable, by having more independents and smaller parties represented." If elected to the Senate, Wayne promises one thing. "My priorities are to listen to the people on the ground and try and do as best I can for them," he said. "If you know you can actually do something and make a difference, you should do it." Loading Having trouble seeing this form? Try
