Zamaneh interview with Shima Tadrisi, researcher of women’s and labor rights
Three years after the Jina uprising, the slogan “Woman, Life, Freedom” continues to shape Iranian society. In this interview researcher Shima Tadrisi highlights the overlooked role of “ordinary women” whose everyday acts of resistance have carried the movement from the streets into homes, making it a lasting social force.
Three years have passed since the beginning of the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement—a movement ignited by the state femicide of 21-year-old Kurdish woman Jina (Mahsa) Amini, which went on to become one of the most influential uprisings in Iran’s modern history. This was not merely a protest against compulsory veiling; it was a direct confrontation with a patriarchal and repressive system that sought to control the minds, bodies, and lives of women—and of all citizens. From the very first days, women and men across cities and villages rose up—in the streets and in their homes—demonstrating that the struggle over freedom of choice in dress was no longer peripheral, but at the very center of demands for freedom and equality in Iran.
Despite the killing of hundreds, widespread repression, mass arrests, and crushing economic crises, the Jina movement remains alive—not necessarily in the form of street demonstrations, but in cultural, mental, and social transformations among women. Countless stories from families, small circles, and daily life reveal how the movement has entered households and everyday relationships, becoming part of the living collective memory of society as a whole.
In this context, there were—and still are—women whose names may never appear in the media or official histories. Yet it is they who, quietly and in the fabric of daily life, have carried the main weight of resistance. These “ordinary women,” through small acts, individual defiance, and everyday changes, have opened pathways toward freedom and equality.
This interview on the third anniversary of “Woman, Life, Freedom” with Shima Tadrisi—a researcher who for years has studied precisely these “ordinary women” and their role in Iran’s women’s movement—offers a chance to reflect on how women’s mass presence in the streets, defying compulsory hijab, has become a durable social force, and why recording the less-heard voices of women is essential to understanding this movement.
Nasim Roshanai: You have been conducting extensive research in the field of women’s rights. Could you introduce your work?
Shima Tadrisi: My research focuses on the role of ordinary women in Iran’s women’s movement. I study women who may not be well-known within activist networks, but who, in their daily lives and within society, have played a crucial role in shaping and advancing the movement.
What led you to start this project?
This research began with an activist project I launched in 2018. At the time, I shared short stories on my social media accounts about women who had resisted gender barriers and succeeded in creating small economic initiatives. I had several motivations. First, I believe economic independence is vital for women, and I thought that telling these stories could inspire others—because these role models were far more relatable than celebrities or famous figures.
The second reason came from my own background. I am from Langarud in Gilan province. When I moved to Tehran and joined women’s groups, I realized that women outside well-known activist circles had far less visibility in the media—especially at a time when social media was not yet widespread. That was why I began this activist project, which was well received at the time.
Although I had to stop that project due to security pressures, I did not stop my work. I turned to the Tehran metro to study the everyday resistance of women street vendors. I interviewed around 111 women vendors there to understand how, day after day, they confronted power—whether in the form of police or metro officials—while still managing to sustain their livelihoods.
From that point, I realized I needed to pursue the role of ordinary women in Iran’s women’s movement more seriously. Around the same time, I was accepted into the gender studies program at Kadir Has University in Istanbul—just as Jina’s killing and the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement began. Many of my non-Iranian friends asked me: Where were all these brave Iranian women before? My answer was simple: Iranian women had been fighting for years, but it was only through the Jina movement that their struggles became visible globally. That was when I knew I was on the right track and needed to conduct deeper research into these less-heard narratives.
At Kadir Has, however, I could not find a supervisor aligned with my thesis topic, so I faced a choice: either change my subject or change universities. The issue was too important for me to abandon. I felt that recording the history of Iranian women’s struggles was the least I could contribute. I eventually connected with a professor at Kiel University in Germany, who agreed to supervise me. That is how I became a student there.
How do you assess the role of ordinary women in Iran’s struggle for freedom and equality, and its impact on the broader movement for democracy?
Before answering, I should clarify what I mean by “ordinary women.” By this I mean women who may not identify as feminists or activists, but who, in their daily lives and in facing social and gender barriers, have acted in ways that cumulatively shape the path toward freedom and equality in Iran. With full respect for well-known activists and their struggles, I believe much of the women’s movement in Iran rests on the shoulders of these ordinary women.
The theoretical basis of my work draws on Asef Bayat’s concept of the “non-movement,” which is crucial for understanding social struggles in the Middle East. In one of his books, Bayat asks: How do ordinary people change the Middle East? My own question is the same, but with a focus on women in Iran: How do ordinary women change Iran?
Reading histories from the Constitutional Revolution to the present, I think not only of the women whose stories are recorded, but also of those whose voices remain absent. Looking at the lives of women around me—my grandmothers, their stories and struggles—this question becomes even sharper: Where are the stories of the women we don’t know, and where are they written in the history of Iran?
Although these women are less visible in official memory and historical accounts, they have been central to advancing the women’s movement and, in turn, the democratic movement in Iran. Through small daily acts, resistance to restrictions, and efforts to change their own conditions, they have gradually but decisively shifted society’s course.
At times, this resistance has erupted into collective uprisings and direct participation in historic moments: during the Constitutional Revolution, the oil nationalization movement, the 1979 Revolution, the Green Movement, and finally in “Woman, Life, Freedom,” where—for the first time—the women’s question became the central axis.
In all previous episodes, women were sidelined once the historical turning point had passed. But in the Jina uprising, for the first time, women’s issues became the core of the protests—and remain so. Even as street demonstrations have subsided, women’s struggles continue, keeping the movement alive.
This shows that ordinary women have resisted not only individually in daily life, but also collectively at critical historical junctures—profoundly shaping Iran’s political and social transformations.
What role do you see for “ordinary women” in the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement?
I often tell friends that between a well-known feminist activist and the women who follow her and are influenced by her, I am more curious about the latter. I want to know how those women negotiate gender discrimination at home and in the street.
“Woman, Life, Freedom” was not only an uprising against the government; it was also a revolt against a patriarchal order that seeks to control women’s bodies and lives.
So far, in my thesis I have interviewed more than 60 women who participated in the movement, and the interviews are still ongoing. One of my main questions was for them to recount their experiences of every major mobilization since the Green Movement. Even those who were children at the time had vague memories—accompanying parents to protests or overhearing conversations at home. These stories show that women’s role was not confined to the Jina uprising; their presence can be traced in earlier waves of protest as well.
The difference in “Woman, Life, Freedom” is that, for the first time, women’s issues became the central axis. One of the most important themes was hijab. Many of the women I interviewed—except for those who wore hijab but still supported the movement—had direct experiences with the morality police, street harassment, or family restrictions around veiling. Before the Jina uprising, Iranian women seemed to be fighting this battle in isolation. Now, the spotlight has shifted, and the world is watching their struggle.
What role do you see for “ordinary women” in the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement?
I often tell friends that between a well-known feminist activist and the women who follow her and are influenced by her, I am more curious about the latter. I want to know how those women negotiate gender discrimination at home and in the street.
“Woman, Life, Freedom” was not only an uprising against the government; it was also a revolt against a patriarchal order that seeks to control women’s bodies and lives.
So far, in my thesis I have interviewed more than 60 women who participated in the movement, and the interviews are still ongoing. One of my main questions was for them to recount their experiences of every major mobilization since the Green Movement. Even those who were children at the time had vague memories—accompanying parents to protests or overhearing conversations at home. These stories show that women’s role was not confined to the Jina uprising; their presence can be traced in earlier waves of protest as well.
The difference in “Woman, Life, Freedom” is that, for the first time, women’s issues became the central axis. One of the most important themes was hijab. Many of the women I interviewed—except for those who wore hijab but still supported the movement—had direct experiences with the morality police, street harassment, or family restrictions around veiling. Before the Jina uprising, Iranian women seemed to be fighting this battle in isolation. Now, the spotlight has shifted, and the world is watching their struggle.
Can you tell us how you are carrying out your latest project?
For my dissertation on “the role of ordinary women in Iran’s women’s movement,” I received a two-year fellowship from the Gerda Henkel Foundation in Germany. This foundation supports historical humanities research and has funded many projects around the world over the past decades. Their support has given me the invaluable opportunity to pursue my study with greater resources and within a wider international network of scholars.
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