Unordinary Silence: The 1400-Year Story of Women’s Resistance in Iran

Blake Arias

A sudden chill shot down my back as I quickly hung up the phone. It was not until that moment that I fully understood the silence —an unordinary silence. The interviewee’s abrupt refusal to continue the conversation when I said “women in Iran” was what struck me the most, revealing a culture of fear so deep that even speaking safely felt impossible. That instant mirrored what many Iranians feel daily: that even a single word can come at a cost. What was meant to be a simple interview call about Iranian gender dynamics had instead revealed a chilling, unspoken reality, and, more importantly, an attempt to tell the story of women in Iran.

For women in particular, silence is more than just caution; it is a deliberate restraint imposed by centuries of systemic patriarchal extremism. In Iran, the rights of women have been restricted by extreme interpretations of religion and law. Over centuries of regime change, Shari’ah evolved alongside Iran’s history, defining those limits, but it has also inspired women to defy them through education, work, and resilience. The women of Iran fight not only for their voice, but for the right to determine who they are allowed to become.

Ironically, for the first three thousand years of Iran’s history, women had a voice. In ancient Iran, known then as Persia, women were, in many cases, treated as equals to men. They could own property, conduct business, earn equal pay, travel freely, and even hold positions of political power. These early examples of women’s entrepreneurship show that Iranian women’s strength and independence are deeply rooted in history, not a modern feminist fad. 

That freedom began to erode in 633 AD, a dramatic turning point for ancient Persia. One year after the Prophet Mohammed’s death, Arab Muslim forces overwhelmed the previously weakened Sasanian Empire. Within 21 years, the Zoroastrian empire collapsed, marking the end of a millennium of dynastic rule— but also giving birth to a new Iran and with it, a new chapter for its women. 

After the Muslim conquest of Iran, Islam spread gradually through cultural influence rather than coercion, eventually surpassing Zoroastrianism. By the early 9th century, Iranian cities had emerged as prominent hubs connecting the West and East. These cultural crossroads attracted people from surrounding rural areas and became centers where art, architecture, and eventually Shari’ah took root. 

The Development of Shari’ah

Shari’ah, meaning “the way” in Arabic, is the moral and legal framework that guides a Muslim’s life, shaping everything from daily rituals to social and political conduct. During the Prophet Mohammed’s ministry, these principles helped resolve disputes and provide guidance for living according to God’s wishes. After his death, scholars compiled Shari’ah from the Qur’an and Sunnah and interpreted it through Fiqh, allowing it to adapt to different times and societies. Over the centuries, these varied interpretations, shaped in part by Arab cultural norms, became embedded in Iranian society, creating the systems that designated restricted roles and participation in public life for women. Understanding Shari’ah shows that it is not a rigid obstacle, but a framework whose application has shaped, but not defined, women’s roles and presence in Iranian society throughout history.

Abbasid Empire: Hidden Women (750–1258 AD)

Persians played a key role in advancing Islamic civilization during the “Islamic Golden Age,” creating a rich cultural fusion with Arabs that shaped art, philosophy, and scholarship within the Abbasid Caliphate. This period also brought new interpretations of Shari’ah that advanced Islamic scholarship but increasingly limited women’s public roles. Scholar Leila Ahmed notes that pre-Islamic Arab traditions were absorbed into Islamic legal thought, influencing Shari’ah interpretations and introducing ideals of female seclusion and exclusion from political life. These influences shaped applications of Shari’ah that reflected not divine command, but the patriarchal norms of their time.

Mongol Invasion and Timurid Empire: Reemergence of Women (1258-1507)

Weakened by Mongol invasions in the thirteenth century, the Abbasid Caliphate collapsed in 1258, bringing social turmoil but also small social openings for women. The Mongols introduced new Eastern ideas that blended with Persian and Arabic traditions, influencing the role of women in later Turco-Mongol dynasties such as the Timurids (1370–1507). Compared to earlier Islamic societies, Timurid women were less confined to domestic spaces. They could engage in trade, textile production, and even hold influence in court and community affairs. Though patriarchal limits remained, women regained a measure of visibility and participation in public life. Yet by the early sixteenth century, Iran was again on the brink of transformation, not through conquest, but through faith. 

Safavid and Qajar eras: Faith and Resistance (1507-1925) era 

Following the Timurid era, Iran underwent another major transformation under the Safavid and later Qajar dynasties with the institutionalization of Twelver Shi‘ism. By declaring Shi‘ism as the state religion, the Safavids created a distinct Iranian identity that set the empire apart from its Sunni neighbors and reshaped its social and religious order. Twelver Shi‘ism centers on the belief in twelve divinely appointed Imams, spiritual leaders viewed as God’s representatives on earth, whose authority replaced the caliphal model of Sunni Islam.

This shift in faith also reshaped gender norms. The Mongols’ relatively lenient attitudes toward women gave way to renewed expectations of veiling and seclusion. Wealthier women could exercise influence through patronage or family ties to religious scholars, but many, especially within the royal court, were confined to the Shah’s harem. Yet within the walls of clerical households, a quieter form of resistance emerged. Educated women, often relatives of scholars, helped preserve and spread Shi‘ism’s teachings through written works, many of which they published anonymously to avoid backlash. Their contributions reveal that even in the most restrictive eras, Iranian women found ways to shape the spiritual and intellectual life of their society.

Under the Qajar dynasty (late 18th–early 20th century), Twelver Shi‘ism became deeply intertwined with state power and everyday life, reinforcing strict gender hierarchies. Most women were confined to domestic labor and child-rearing, while those in lower classes often worked outside the home to help sustain their families. As Western ideas entered Iran through trade, education, and print culture, women became increasingly aware of existing inequalities. Reformers such as Bibi Khanum Astarabadi emerged at the turn of the century, establishing girls’ schools and challenging traditional norms. Bibi, in particular, wrote the satirical Vices of Men in response to the deeply patriarchal attitudes toward women, advocating for women’s equality and especially for girls’ education. Her efforts marked the beginning of Iran’s modern women’s movement.

Phalavi Dynasty: Feminist Gilded Age (1925-1979)

In 1921, the weakened Qajar dynasty was replaced by the Pahlavis, beginning a period of modernization and secularization that opened unprecedented opportunities for women. Reforms raised the legal marriage age, expanded access to education, and controversially mandated unveiling. While some saw these changes as part of the regime’s Westernization agenda, they allowed women to attend universities, take government jobs, and participate more fully in public life, freedoms unseen since before Islam. At the same time, these state-imposed reforms often served political interests rather than genuine grassroots empowerment. Conservative clerics and traditionalists feared cultural erosion and strongly opposed these policies, leaving Iranian society divided over how to balance progress with religious and cultural values.

Islamic Revolution of 1979: The Breaking Point

By the late 1970s, Iranians, both secular and religious, had grown weary of the Shah’s authoritarian rule and its heavy Western influence. When promised political reforms failed to take place, diverse groups, including progressives and traditionalists, united under Ayatollah Khomeini in opposition. As social unrest toppled the monarchy and the Shah fled, Khomeini transformed the revolution’s broad coalition into an Islamic Republic, replacing the secular monarchy with a theocratic state governed by strict interpretations of Shari’ah.

The Islamic Republic of Iran: The New Resistance (1979-present) 

The Islamic Republic ended up reversing many of the reforms that had once expanded women’s opportunities in education, employment, and public life. Schools and universities were segregated, and many women lost their government jobs. Most visibly, the state reimplemented mandatory veiling, insisting that women dress “properly.” Yet, not all women accepted these limits in silence. A new generation of devout, non-secular women began advocating for their rights within the framework of Islam itself, arguing that true Islam supports women’s rights and equality. Rather than directly defying the law, they pushed to reinterpret Shari‘ah and remove discriminatory laws and policies from within the system. Over time, their nonconfrontational persistence helped reopen spaces for women in education, work, and even politics.

By the turn of the 21st century, the rise of the internet connected Iranians, especially young women, to entirely new global realities. Abbaszadeh and colleagues observed that even in rural areas, global media began influencing fashion, language, and social expectations, gradually blurring the boundaries between tradition and modernity. As women grew more aware of global trends towards gender and freedom, they began to see how deeply inequality was woven into their own lives. Through this awareness, many came to recognize the true depth of the system that had long silenced them, and the power of reclaiming their voices against it.

This growing awareness erupted into a national movement in 2022 after the death of Mahsa Amini, a young woman detained by the “morality police” for allegedly violating hijab laws. Her death sparked the “Woman, Life, Freedom” protests, where women publicly removed or burned their veils in defiance of state control. The movement exposed how the Iranian government continues to marginalize women, effectively controlling half of the population to maintain power. Much like Bibi Khanum Astarabadi a century earlier, today’s women challenge oppression, trying to claim a measure of independence. But this growing awareness also deepened the state’s fear of losing control. In seeking to include firsthand perspectives, I experienced this tension. When I mentioned “women’s rights” to a trusted contact from Iran, they immediately replied, “I’m sorry, I cannot answer these questions,” and ended the conversation. That silence revealed the true totalitarian grip and fear the government maintains over its citizens, even from thousands of miles away, into the heart of the US.

Another associate who lived in Iran and remains in contact with family explained that, in an attempt to stamp out Western influence, the government has banned several social media platforms. Still, many Iranians find ways around these restrictions by using VPNs to access the outside world. He noted that while the government may be totalitarian, it often fails to act like one, because it is inefficient.

Despite the barriers women continue to face, many pursue higher education and even run their own businesses. Today, women make up nearly 60% of all university students in Iran, a striking figure that reflects their determination even under restrictions. Yet, a 2009 Review of Economics of the Household study found that fewer than one in five Iranian women work outside the home. The research shows that even though women are becoming more educated and changing family life, they still face barriers to equality in work and society because of the extreme interpretation of Shari’ah.

Iranian women are not just surviving; they are empowering themselves by turning to entrepreneurship as an act of social resistance. Take Nahid, for example. She is a 40-year-old entrepreneur who began marketing homemade dolls on Instagram. Her business became so successful that she had to employ 18 local women to meet the demand. Another female entrepreneur, Elli, 30, also started a business called Elit Kala, which centers on the resale of kitchen equipment and thrives largely because of her Instagram presence. It has become so successful that even her husband has left his job to support her. Women entrepreneurs have even successfully established businesses in industries such as agriculture and landscaping, where they often face additional barriers in male-dominated fields. For instance, I spoke with a woman working in landscaping who described the challenges she encountered but emphasized how she persevered for many years. Despite economic sanctions and government-imposed setbacks, these women exemplify the resilience that could strengthen Iran’s economy, demonstrating the potential of women’s entrepreneurship in driving that growth. 

The story of Iranian women is remarkable. For centuries, they have lived at the crossroads of evolving Shari’ah interpretations, cultural and traditional fusions, and shifting powers, shaped by systems that sought to silence them, but that never fully succeeded. From the elusive women scholars of the Safavid era who anonymously contributed to Islamic knowledge, to Bibi Khanum Astarabadi, who challenged patriarchal norms through education and reform in the Qajar era, to Nahid and Elli, modern entrepreneurs who have built businesses under sanctions and censorship, Iranian women persevere. Today, their resilience takes place in classrooms, through small businesses, and across digital spaces that defy censorship. Unlike the state-imposed reforms of the Pahlavi era, today’s transformation is shaped by women themselves. Even with restrictions in place, real change in Iran begins not with power, but with those who quietly refuse to disappear.

(This article was originally printed in the Fall 2025 edition of our print magazine. To see the entire magazine, click here.)