Two recent murders of young women in Iran have brought renewed attention to the country’s systemic failures in preventing and responding to gender-based violence. The cases of Elaheh Hosseinnejad and Hanieh Behboudi, both in their twenties, have sparked widespread outrage on social media and raised urgent questions about legal protections for women, especially those living in working-class and underserved areas.
The Two Victims: Elaheh Hosseinnejad and Hanieh Behboudi
Elaheh Hosseinnejad, a 24-year-old nail technician and artist from Islamshahr, a low-income suburb southwest of Tehran, disappeared late May 2025 after finishing her shift at a beauty salon in the more affluent Saadat Abad district in northern Tehran. Her body was found nearly two weeks later in a remote area near Tehran’s airport, with multiple stab wounds. Authorities arrested a suspect, a Snap driver (a local rideshare service), who initially claimed the murder occurred during a robbery. Later, his statements shifted to include comments about the victim’s “chastity,” raising concerns that the act may have been gender-motivated and shaped by social norms regarding women’s autonomy.
In a separate case, 22-year-old Hanieh Behboudi, a former amateur athlete and mother of one, was reportedly killed by her husband in Fariman, a small, conservative town in Khorasan Razavi Province. The murder occurred shortly after Behboudi’s participation in a regional sports competition, where her success had drawn local attention, including posters featuring her image. Investigators say her husband attempted to stage the death as a suicide. Still, forensic evidence and his confession revealed that escalating domestic tensions, partly over her public visibility, had preceded the killing.
Both incidents occurred in economically marginalized areas where public services and protections are limited. Activists argue that the women’s class status and the lack of institutional support in their neighborhoods played a central role in both their vulnerability and the failures of prevention. In each case, the suspects attempted to mislead investigators, reflecting both the normalization of violence against women and the weaknesses in law enforcement’s gender sensitivity and investigative procedures.
Public scrutiny intensified after police released footage of Hosseinnejad’s suspect being interrogated. In the video, officers made misogynistic remarks and appeared to legitimize the crime by referencing the victim’s morality, echoing the suspect’s claims. Critics say this reflects a broader institutional culture that often shifts blame onto victims and downplays gender-motivated violence, particularly when it involves women from lower-income communities.
Limitations of Iranian Laws to Address Femicide
Legal debates within the state actors following these cases have reignited calls to enforce or expand qisas laws—Islamic retributive justice provisions that allow victims’ families to demand punishment equal to the crime, including execution. But growing numbers of legal experts, rights advocates, and feminist activists argue that capital punishment has utterly failed to deter violence against women in Iran. Despite decades of executions for murder, femicide and rape persist at alarming rates, revealing that the root causes of such crimes lie far deeper than what punitive responses can reach.
Critics stress that qisas not only fail to prevent gender-based violence but also reproduce systemic inequalities. Under Iranian law, a woman’s life is valued at half that of a man in terms of diyya (financial compensation), reinforcing a legal system where justice is stratified by gender and class. The promise of justice through execution masks the absence of structural reform: there is no national plan to prevent violence, no survivor-centered support services, no real accountability for institutional negligence. Capital punishment, they argue, is a theatrical response; a spectacle that punishes individual perpetrators while leaving the state’s own failures untouched.
Moreover, capital punishment is easily manipulated in a system where due process is weak and where gender bias permeates policing, prosecution, and the judiciary. Many femicide and rape cases never make it to trial, and when they do, victims’ behavior is often scrutinized more harshly than that of the accused. In this context, executing a few men does little to challenge the culture of impunity or change the social norms that normalize violence against women. Without comprehensive legal and social reforms, capital punishment becomes a smokescreen; one that hides the state’s refusal to take meaningful, preventive action.
Experts caution that punitive measures alone, such as surveillance or capital punishment, cannot resolve the structural roots of violence. They argue that without broader reforms, including legal changes, victim support systems, and improved police training, such measures risk treating symptoms rather than causes. This is particularly true in low-income and rural areas, where state presence is minimal and access to justice often depends on social connections or resources that many women lack.
Parliament’s Women’s Faction Urges Action Following Murder of Elaheh Hosseinnejad
Following the murder of Elaheh Hosseinnejad, members of the Women’s Faction of Iran’s Islamic Consultative Assembly have written to President Masoud Pezeshkian, urging immediate government action to improve women’s safety. After meeting with the victim’s family, the faction relayed their request for better organization of public transportation and urban and intercity taxi services, emphasizing the need for a strategic, inter-agency plan to promote social security for women and families.
Mohammad Beigi, head of the Women’s and Family Faction, also raised concerns about the stalled progress of the bill Promoting the Dignity and Protection of Women Against Violence. She criticized the government’s decision to begin the bill’s extradition process but noted that President Pezeshkian has since suspended the move. He expressed support for the bill and a desire to enhance its content. Beigi highlighted that over 40 meetings have been held on the matter and called for a final round of talks to meet the public’s 14-year demand for legal protections against gender-based violence.
Women Human Rights Defenders (WHRDs) in Iran have long criticized the bill Promoting the Dignity and Protection of Women Against Violence for its limited scope and lack of accountability mechanisms. They argue that the bill, despite being in development for over 14 years, fails to address key forms of gender-based violence, including marital rape, honor killings, and state-sponsored violence. Additionally, the bill heavily focuses on “protecting women’s dignity” rather than ensuring their fundamental rights, reinforcing patriarchal norms rather than challenging them.
WHRDs also highlight that the bill places significant power in the hands of state institutions, such as the judiciary and police, which themselves have been sources of abuse and repression against women activists. They contend that without independent oversight, transparency, and a rights-based approach, the bill risks becoming a symbolic gesture rather than a transformative legal tool. The prolonged delay in passing the bill is seen as a reflection of the state’s reluctance to prioritize meaningful protections for women in both public and private spheres.
Analysts also highlight a growing disconnect between state narratives and grassroots movements. Official responses often emphasize crime control and retribution, while local and feminist groups call for deeper changes that address not only gender but also class, labor rights, and regional inequalities. These cases, they argue, reflect the failure of a system that privatizes care, devalues women’s labor, and offers little protection to those most at risk.
As the investigations continue, the murders of Elaheh Hosseinnejad and Hanieh Behboudi remain emblematic of broader social patterns. Both were women navigating public and domestic spaces in environments shaped by economic precarity, patriarchal norms, and state neglect. Their deaths have become a focal point in a national conversation about whose lives are protected—and whose are not.
