Iranian women under the cosh

The Economist

THERE is much to be unhappy about in Iran. Depression, drug addiction and cancer are at record rates, while divorce is nearing Western levels. But most worrying are new attempts to control women. Restrictions in Iran may not rival Saudi Arabia—Iranian women are permitted to drive and openly socialise with male friends—but a political debate has broken out about how they should conduct themselves in public. It has gained more urgency after a spate of acid attacks against women in Isfahan, Iran’s third city, this month, apparently for not conforming to Iran’s Islamic dress code. In another blow, on October 25th Iran said it had executed Reyhaneh Jabbari, a 26-year-old woman who killed a man she said was trying to sexually abuse her.

A series of recent decisions—taken by men—have left women reeling. In July Tehran's mayor, Muhammad Bagher Ghalibaf, a conservative trounced by Hassan Rohani in last year's presidential election, ordered gender segregation in municipal offices to ensure women's “dignity.” On September 3rd Khalil Helali, a national police chief, said the law should ban women from serving in cafes and restaurants because such jobs allow men to ogle them. (They could work in kitchens and non-public areas, he said.) And in Ishafan, the country's top tourist attraction, female musicians have been banned from performing.

At the heart of the debate over women is Iran’s unease about Western culture overtaking Islamic teachings. Iran's supreme leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, and Mr Rohani are at odds. Mr Khamenei, who is struggling to stay relevant, in April derided the notion of gender equality as a Western concept. Mr Rohani, a relatively moderate cleric, admitted the following day that Iran has “plenty of shortcomings in women's rights and gender issues”.

For their part, women are ignoring a government campaign to get married, stay at home and bear at least five children. With an economy strangled by sanctions, most couples can neither afford nor want a big family. But the hardline conservatives who dominate parliament and oppose Mr Rohani are using gender politics to jab at the president's reform agenda and curry favour with Mr Khamenei, whose support for Mr Rohani appears lukewarm.

The mandatory wearing of the hijab is a touchpaper issue. On October 20th parliament started to debate a bill proposing new powers for volunteer militias to enforce the head covering, despite Mr Rohani's pleas that police be kinder. He is not alone in opposing harsher rules. “Down with the religious extremists,” protesters chanted on October 22nd in a rare public protest in Isfahan over the acid attacks against at least eight women.

Problems for Iran's women run deep. Iran ranks 109th out of 152 countries on the UN's gender inequality index. Only 3% of its MPs are women. In June Ghoncheh Ghavami, a 25-year-old dual British-Iranian law graduate, was arrested outside Tehran's Azadi (“Freedom” in Farsi) stadium for trying to attend a game of Iran's male volleyball team. The actions of the judiciary—Ms Ghavami has been held for more than three months and awaits the verdict from a closed trial—embarrassed Mr Rohani at September’s opening of the UN General Assembly in New York. They also make his liberal election promises seem a distant memory.