Iranian women became tools in the hands of the political hierarchy to show the world Iran’s modernity or Muslimhood. Women, their fashion, and what they wear, have been politicized before and after Iran’s Islamic revolution.
Back in the 1920s, Reza Shah, one of Iran’s last kings, established a law called “khashf hejab,” or “removing veil,” with an attempt to westernize the country. Police officers stood at every corner of the all the streets in Iran to remove veils or hijab from women’s heads. My paternal grandma didn’t go out very often because she didn’t want to appear bare-head in the public.
Women were forced to once again wear the veil, or hijab, after the 1979 revolution to contradict western values. Iran’s morality police were in charge of making sure women followed Islamic rules of how to appear in the public.
Islamic rules and values were imposed on Iranian women
Following the revolution, women had to cover their hair with a scarf or an ugly headpiece called a maghnaeh. I could maneuver to show some whisp of hair with a headscarf. But with maghnaeh, my head looked like I was a knight wearing the wearing the chain mail headwear. I think the idea of maghnaeh actually came from knights’ headwear and the Iranian establishment patented it for its women!
My head looked flat and unattractive, my face pushed out of a large hole in front of the scarf, and the remaining fabric of the maghnaeh covered my neck. I hated maghnaeh, yet I was forced to wear it inside every government building and school. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have the privilege to enter.
Iranian women fashion, and what they wear, have been politicized before and after Iran’s Islamic revolution.
The ugly hijab must had to be completed with other restrictive dress code garment, otherwise, it wouldn’t become ugly enough. Iran’s morality police, also known as Komiteh or morality police, or guidance patrol, ensured women wore loose long robes, bottomed up on the front, along with pants to be worn beneath the robes, and shoes that would never show toes. If women didn’t comply with the dress code, they could be taken away. The morality police also made sure unrelated men and women never mingled; drinking alcohol was out of question; and any sexual behavior was strictly restricted. Yet, women found ways to disobey Iran’s Islamic fashion.
I was arrested for bad-hijabi
On one of Nowruz days in Iran, my uncle took us to Tehran’s National Park. Nowruz is the Persian New Year. On Nowruz, we don’t have school for two weeks. The first few days are usually dedicated to paying respect to elders by visiting them. Kids got eidi, or cash money, from the elders, as a present and good omen for the New Year. People were coming over to my paternal grandparents house, the eldest in the Jamshidi family, to visit and pay respect. I was happy for the cash money I kept receiving. But, it was a different story for my dad.
My dad was overwhelmed by the noise and mess that the nine kids, ranging between 7 and 19 years old, were making in the house. He gave my uncle money and told him to take us to Iran’s National Park, a large and beautiful recreational arena at the center of Tehran. I was around 14 years old. I was wearing sandals and the cat-style sunglasses that my mom bought for me and my sister from Germany on her last trip.
Iranian women became tools in the hands of the political hierarchy to show the world Iran’s modernity or Muslimhood.
We played a great deal in the park. After 4 or 5 hours, we were tired and hungry. We started walking toward our car. My cousin and I were ahead of the gang when two men in heavy beards and untucked green shirts grabbed us by our robes’ sleeves and dragged us to a building nearby. We didn’t want to go, but they forced us and pulled us into the building. My uncle ran after us. But, they stopped him.
Mahsa Amini
If you’ve been following the news, you may know what happened to the 21-year-old woman wearing her scarf loose. Although what happened to Mahsa was very recent, Iranian women put up with the morality police for more than 40 years.
The dark room
The big men took us to a dark black room. I couldn’t see my surroundings at first. As I was trying to focus, I could hear the sound of a Quran recitation coming from a tape-recorder. After I got used to the dark, I could see around 20 to 22 women in that room. They were all standing. The room felt so crowded. They were all wearing dark robes and loose scarves.
A few minutes later, two women came inside the room. They started saying things things like I couldn’t understand what it was. I was so tired, nervous, hungry and extraordinarily angry.
“You bastard, why have you taken us here? We have done nothing wrong. I have done nothing wrong!” I shouted.
The women grabbed me by my robe, held my waist, and dragged me outside of the room. My cousin started crying. She was shaking. “No, please don’t take her, she is just a kid. She didn’t know what she was saying.” My cousin was a tall, super white, 19-year-old girl with blonde hair and light brown eyes. She inherited my grandma’s hair and eyes. My grandma was an immigrant from Russia. She escaped the Bolsheviks in the late 1980s.
My cousin was crying so loud and frantically. All the other women were silent. No one wanted to be the next victim by raising the slightest sound.
We were sure they were going to whip us with a long leash. The punishment was between 50 to 80 strokes.
They took me to an even darker room with less women. I think we were four individuals. I was so scared, so frightened and so paralyzed that I still, to this day, cann’t remember what happened in that room. My brain was frozen. We were sure they were going to whip us with a long leash. The punishment was between 50 to 80 strokes. I kept thinking how I was going to hold up to the strokes. One of my dad’s friend’s daughters was hospitalized after getting the whips.
The sound of the Quran in the other room sounded like the deafeningly loud Rock N’ Roll music that my younger uncle played in his room. I am sure I was not breathing, because I felt nauseated. I was getting so dizzy and sick. At that moment, I heard my name. “Oh, thank God,” I said. “Thank you God.”
They took me to an office with windows and bright lights. They had me sign papers testifying that I would never wear “western style” sunglasses and tobehave when I talk to “sisters“. Then, one of the sisters came to me and started saying things that I couldn’t hear. I was still so nervous. I just looked down and didn’t say a word.
Later, my dad paid my uncle an equivalent of $500 in those days’ money. I was glad my uncle had such a sum with him that day!
Related stories of the same series:
#1: To change hijab law, I had to become president
#2: Mr. Mousavian and my next step toward Iran’s presidency
#3: Sexual Attention in Iran, Don’t Even Mention It!
#4: Komiteh or Morality Police in Iran Created Fear & Intimidated People: Personal Story
Please Pledge to Our Peace Journalism.
Goltune is editorially independent. We set our agenda. No one edits our editors. No one steers our opinion. This is important as it enables us to stay true to our values.
Every contribution we receive from readers like you, big or small, goes directly into funding our journalism. Please support Goltune, large or small.
Send your contributions to our PayPal account: [email protected]
Or, Click the link to pledge your support.
Thank you,
Goltune Editorial Team