by Nina Ansary
Every member of society and every member of government is subject to the law. No one can be above it. Everyone has the same rights, yet the root of the faqih is inequality. He assumes he is above it.… It is time for the Supreme Leader to be subject to the Constitution too. After all, the Supreme Leader doesn’t come from God!42
In 1999, Kadivar was tried and sentenced to eighteen months in prison for challenging the doctrine of clerical rule. Today, he resides in the United States, where he is a visiting professor in the Department of Religion at Duke University.43
A CLERICAL-SECULAR COLLABORATION
The wisdom and insight of these thinkers validated Zanan’s objectives, as did the collaboration between a young, mid-ranking cleric well-versed in juridical protocol and a secular attorney with legal expertise. Regular features by Seyyed Mohsen Saidzadeh and attorney Mehrangiz Kar, “one a male religious scholar and one a female intellectual—side by side—pursued discussions regarding women’s related jurisprudence and law.”44
Saidzadeh, possibly the most “radical … and vocal proponent of gender equality” and one of the earliest advocates of Islam and feminism in post-revolutionary Iran, was born and raised in the small town of Qaen in the province of South Khorasan.45 A graduate of the Qom Theological Seminary (Madrese-ye-Ali-ye Qazai’i-ye-Qom), he resigned soon after earning his judgeship in 1983 to embark on a personal exploration of religious issues relating to women. Saidzadeh began writing in May 1992, when his first series of articles appeared in Zanan under the name of his wife, Mina Yadegar Azadi, an unknown secondary school teacher.46 His editorials examining Islamic law within the family, the capacity of women to serve as judges (mujtahid’n), and women in the penal system (qesas) “showed with certainty that there is no unanimity regarding women-related religious commands, and, secondly, that these directives must change on the basis of the requirements of the time.”47 In later years, when his authorship was uncovered, Saidzadeh explained that the pretense was solely for the purpose of providing his wife with entry into the field of journalism. However, given the controversial nature of these pieces and fearing the loss of her employment, Azadi denied any connection with the articles.
In the aftermath, Saidzadeh continued to write, establishing the need for women’s roles to be “regulated by familial and social circumstances … as opposed to natural or divine will.”48 Saidzadeh, like Soroush, considered the traditional religious approach applied in modern-day society as “the lowest-ranking religious science” and maintained that a reformulation of the body of Islamic laws within the “new political context” would enable women to engage in advancing their own needs.49
Saidzadeh’s moderate clerical philosophy corresponded to the secular views of human rights activist and lawyer Mehrangiz Kar. Born in 1944, Kar was raised by a “veiled yet Western-oriented” mother. In the aftermath of the 1979 revolution, she had only recently passed the bar. Like all other female lawyers, she was not prevented from practicing law but could not hold certain positions and instead was confined to a more bureaucratic position. Eventually, however, she managed to represent women in divorce, adultery, and child custody cases. Adhering to the new Islamic laws in order to protect herself from being banned from working as a lawyer, she reluctantly gave in to the dress codes and worked within the boundaries of the system, while at the same time citing modernist Islamic thinkers in her defenses.50
Drawn into collaborating with her Islamic counterparts, Kar joined the reformist movement in the early 1990s. She was initially skeptical about meeting with Shahla Sherkat, as she was hesitant about a religion dismissive of the inequality between men and women.51 However, her cynicism was almost immediately dispelled. She recalls her astonishment upon visiting the offices of Zanan in 1992:
Something is happening which is no lesser in significance than the Islamic Revolution. Cultural and intellectual forces were openly engaged in a challenge with those forces of the regime.… It was becoming obvious to me that a split had begun to take place within the ideologues and cultural forces of the ruling system. A new force emerging from within had begun to challenge the status quo.52
Kar, who had never resorted to religious criteria in her writings, and whose work prior to 1979 focused primarily on social reform, agreed to work for Zanan as she was convinced “that this was a historic occasion—one that she knew would benefit women and the women’s movement.”53
Mehrangiz Kar
In 1993, with Kar’s permission, Saidzadeh modified her written work as a precautionary measure aimed at preventing the magazine from “being charged with blasphemy.”54 Her inaugural article titled “Women’s Position in Iran’s Penal Law,” published in the summer of 1993, was a critique of the Retribution Law in a manner reflecting the necessity for “universal human rights to be the basis of all legislation.”55 Kar’s articles, which appeared in Zanan at regular intervals, revealed her knowledge of the judicial process, while Saidzadeh’s “mastery of the Sharia ensured that the debates remained within the acceptable boundaries of religious dogma.”56
In 1998, this unusual collaboration ended with the abrupt demise of Saidzadeh’s career, after he published an article in the daily newspaper Jame‘eh (Society) comparing the discriminatory policies of the state to those of the Taliban in Afghanistan:
Based on these traditional texts, they should follow the same route as the Taliban have, and some in Iran have actually done so. One example is the story of some fanatics in Iran who have tried to prevent women from biking, which is in the same tradition as that of the Taliban’s prevention of women from riding horses.57
As a consequence, Saidzadeh was excommunicated, imprisoned, and forbidden to publish.58 Nevertheless, Saidzadeh continues to maintain the validity of feminism in Iran as a viable “social movement,” which, through emphasizing the common humanity of the sexes, endeavors to free women “from an unwanted subordination imposed by [an] androcentric society.”59
DISCORD BETWEEN FEMINIST ALLIES
Mehrangiz Kar remained with Zanan until her arrest in April 2000, after she and sixteen other reformist women, including Shahla Sherkat, attended the Berlin Conference on “The Future of Reform in Iran.”60 In the aftermath of this meeting, the groundbreaking reconciliation between secular and religious women was momentarily brought to a halt when Kar was sentenced behind closed doors to four years’ imprisonment for her criticism of the Islamic Constitution, while Sherkat was tried, fined, and released in an open court for questioning the religious dress code.61 Kar was bitterly dismayed at Sherkat for not coming to her defense and for choosing to protect her magazine over her relationship:
We always sensed that there was a gap. It simply became clear after Berlin that the reformists would never take any risks for us, or defend us.…62
Kar was diagnosed with cancer after spending two months in prison. Under pressure from the European Union, Khatami officials intervened, allowing her to leave for treatment in the U.S.63
Over the years the rift between the two women has been attributed to Kar’s secularism versus Sherkat’s religious identity, and there has been a range of speculation including Sherkat’s alleged fear of “possible retaliation by the system, loss of employment and imprisonment.”64 Although such conclusions are entirely plausible, the decisive issue for Sherkat may have been neither one of those considerations. For sixteen years, she routinely faced legal action for allegations regarding her magazine’s controversial articles.65 But it is important to consider the factor of Zanan’s solvency. Far from being a lucrative enterprise, Zanan was continuously under financial strain. In a 2007 interview, Sherkat described the extent of her burden:
In terms of financial obstacles, Zanan is under tremendous pressure. No one backs us financially. Day after day wages rise, the price of paper increases by double or more and the office rent is climbing. All this puts us in an incredibly compromising situation. I have had to sell my mobile phone and car to cover the expenses. I have also had to sell my house.66
&n
bsp; Despite the difficulties of keeping Zanan afloat, it appears that the determining factor for Sherkat was to forge ahead with an arduous undertaking and her altruistic mission, believing that “nothing is impossible.”67 Therefore, the alleged act of betrayal of her colleague Mehrangiz Kar is in all likelihood attributable not to differences in personal ideology but to Sherkat’s commitment to advancing the women’s movement in Iran by making certain that Zanan endured.
HOW DID ZANAN MANAGE TO SURVIVE?
During a period in which reformist publications were regularly shut down for the slightest deviation from state ideology, it is a bit of a mystery how Zanan managed to survive for almost two decades. Zanan endured despite its articles that portrayed the bitter realities of daily life for Iranian women and contested the premise of the country’s patriarchal laws. Why was the magazine allowed to publish such “inflammatory” material, such as that excerpted from prominent Western feminist writers?
Did Sherkat’s affiliation with Mohammad Khatami, dating back to their time at the Keyhan Institute and Zan-e Ruz in the 1980s, play a role in Zanan’s longevity, allowing Sherkat to remain below the radar and evade drastic penalties despite her blatant ideological transgressions? Her connection to Khatami—as evidenced by his approval of Sherkat’s license to publish in 1991 and the magazine’s endorsement of his presidential bid—cannot be denied.
While Sherkat’s passion, determination, and dedication are obvious, and her skill in presenting controversial topics is no small achievement, the magazine’s staying power is baffling given that its content is far more radical than that of other similar publications. Although it has published numerous articles reflecting Western ideology, as well as countless articles that were overtly critical of the regime’s blatant discriminatory laws and practices, Zanan has endured while other magazines have been systematically terminated for the slightest infraction, including “collusion and conspiracy with the West.”68 Although Sherkat’s travails were by no means without complications, she was consistently exonerated of all accusations.69 Authors Elaine Sciolino and Ida Lichter, who have both remarked on the magazine’s survival, are equally perplexed.
During her many trips to Iran, Sciolino, a correspondent for Newsweek and the New York Times, often contemplated this unusual fact: “Sometimes I could not figure out why Zanan had not been shut down.”70 In her extensive documentation of women in the Muslim world, Ida Lichter considers the same question: “It is remarkable that Zanan has survived for sixteen years in a country that Reporters Without Borders has called the biggest prison for journalists in the Middle East.”71
In April 1997, Khatami acknowledged in an interview with Sherkat that “the culture of patriarchy is one of the most important impediments to women in Iran, and … the laws pertaining to gender equality will benefit civil society.”72 Mir-Hosseini observes that, although Khatami’s pledge for freedom was not entirely fulfilled, “reformist efforts to reconcile Islam, democracy and human rights brought to the surface many of the inherent contradictions between the Constitution and gender rights in Sharia law and democratic ideals.”73 In many ways, Sherkat’s role as a “persistent trespasser” has been indisputable in this regard.74
While Khatami was unable to prevent the closure of numerous reformist publications, he may have traveled the extra mile for Zanan. Unfortunately, the magazine finally fell victim to the conservative climate of the Ahmadinejad era (2005–2013). On January 28, 2008, the Press Supervisory Board of Iran, backed by the Ministry of Culture, announced the revocation of Zanan’s license for “endangering the spiritual, mental and intellectual health of its readers, and threatening psychological security by deliberately offering a dark picture of the Islamic Republic.” Although no specific article or articles were named in this accusation, there was speculation that an investigative piece on the martyrdom movement entitled “Dying in Order to Kill” triggered the shutdown. This contention stems from the charges accusing Sherkat of “breaking the law and defaming military and revolutionary institutions.”75
Zanan’s demise resonated in Iran and around the world, as activists and supporters petitioned the Iranian government to reinstate the journal’s license.76 Sherkat’s legal advisor stated that the manner in which the magazine was shut down may have violated official standard procedure:
Events that have taken place since the license revocation suggest that the decision was motivated more by personal and ideological animosity of a few individual members and not the whole Press Supervisory Board which presumably ordered the license revocation.77
After the closure of Zanan, Sherkat—who was honored in 2004 with the Courage in Journalism Award by the International Women’s Media Foundation for her “dangerous and challenging work” and in 2005 with the Louis M. Lyons Award for Conscience and Integrity in Journalism from the Neiman Foundation for Journalism at Harvard University—accepted a management position in an arts and cultural institute. In 2010, this divorced mother of two described her anguish over the loss of Zanan:
Every day I arrive at work but a piece of the puzzle of my being has been lost. It has been two years since they have taken from our family our 16-year-old daughter Zanan. I have walked up and down many stairs and corridors to find my lost one. But have not had any success.78
THE WOMAN WHO GAVE BIRTH TO ZANAN
Zanan’s story began with Shahla Sherkat, a passionate, unwavering activist who defied the established boundaries of a coercive regime. Her impartial, tolerant outlook, as reflected in her groundbreaking magazine, quite likely derived from her personal history. Born in 1956 to a devout family in the city of Isfahan, Sherkat’s upbringing was unlike that of many conservative households that remained apprehensive about the westernized climate of the Pahlavi era. Her parents, a housewife and a civil servant, remained comfortable in a secular atmosphere despite their own religious convictions, and this laid the groundwork for their daughter’s outlook.
Annette Bening presents Shahla Sherkat with the Courage in Journalism Award in Beverly Hills, California, 2005.
In an interview with BBC correspondent Jane Howard, Sherkat recalled attending elementary school in this dual atmosphere:
He [her father] was very particular about the hijab and we even wore our headscarf to school and sometimes the chador too.… At the time I went to school, there would be girls sitting next to me with miniskirts, but I was never made to feel uncomfortable.79
In later years, at her mother’s insistence, the family moved to Tehran, where Sherkat earned her undergraduate degree in psychology from Tehran University.
Shahla’s initial journalistic venture coincided with the collapse of the Pahlavi monarchy. As a revolutionary enthusiast, she found employment at Rah-ye Zaynab (Zaynab’s Path), formerly Ettela‘at-e Banovan (Ladies Information). In 1982, she was approached by Zahra Rahnavard to “revitalize” Zan-e Ruz (Today’s Woman).80 Mohammad Khatami was serving at that time as supervisor for the Keyhan Institute, the publishing house that owned Zan-e Ruz. Sherkat’s indomitable spirit was immediately apparent when, much to the dismay of the editorial board, she elected to enrich the publication’s content with hardcore analysis of women’s issues in a post-revolutionary climate. Here is what she had to say about Zan-e Ruz:
My main difficulty with them was that they wanted to portray an image of women being in the house, putting on their make-up when their husbands came home. The beds are made, the table is set.… It got to a point where I said no more.81
In 1991, Sherkat departed from Zan-e Ruz amid a dispute over the publication of an essay by renowned filmmaker Mohsen Makhmalbaf, in which he harshly reacted to criticism of one of his movies by state officials. During this period, Khatami, who was serving as Minister of Culture and Islamic Guidance, came to her defense by supporting Makhmalbaf’s right to rejoinder. While this dispute caused Khatami to resign, it nevertheless placed him in good standing with Sherkat, who later endorsed his candidacy.
In 1992, Shahla, who had obtained a publication licen
se from none other than Khatami before her departure from Zan-e Ruz, started Zanan (Women) and embarked on her journalistic crusade.82 This association represented an interlude in which Western ideas infiltrated a restrictive climate, allowing the ideals of a religious woman who was “neither apologetic nor defensive about Islam and openly associated herself with feminism,” to converge with the unconventional wisdom of a devout cleric, who subscribed to and stressed the importance of “incorporating the West into one’s values and life.”83
ZANAN’S COMEBACK
On May 29, 2014, Shahla Sherkat’s “daughter”—beloved not only by her but also by thousands of readers during the magazine’s previous sixteen-year run—was relaunched under the banner Zanan-e Emruz (Today’s Women). Available in print and online, the new version of the periodical continues to reflect Sherkat’s passion and altruistic mission for advancing the rights of Iranian women. Its pages include hard-hitting, inspiring pieces, such as “Why Are Men Unaware of Their Violence and Aggression toward Women?” and “The Injustice Faced by Female Factory Workers in Iran.” Articles often focus on the harrowing circumstances women face when handicapped by legal restraints, and the magazine also includes candid interviews with well-known women’s rights activists in Iran, as well as coverage of international women’s issues.
While the future of Iran remains hidden in a convoluted landscape, what appears certain is that despite the obstacles, women’s activism is surging. Shahla Sherkat has valiantly proven that neither she nor those who believe in securing women’s rights in Iran will be silenced.
In the following chapter we will examine evidence of the Islamic Republic’s failed gender ideology and highlight the efforts Iranian women are making in order to answer this ongoing and provocative question: can women in Iran ever be equal?