Radio Zamaneh in Conversation with Mandana Ghasemzadeh
According to media reports, Maryam Yarmohammadi, a 28-year-old mother of two, was killed by her brother in the early hours of 5 October 2026 on the Iranian island of Qeshm. She was of Lur ethnicity, originally from the village of Kargan in Delfan County, Lorestan Province, and had reportedly moved to Qeshm with her husband approximately two months before her death.
Media reports also allege that her husband helped facilitate the killing, while several relatives reportedly gathered outside a hospital to protest the suspects’ arrests. The location of the killing should not be used to attribute the reported behaviour to a particular region or community. The central question is how collective support for the suspects could emerge among those closest to the victim.
This case raises broader questions about the relationship between family control, the concept of “honour” and the justification of femicide. How can some of a woman’s own relatives come to regard her killing as justified, rather than demanding justice for her, and even protest the arrest of those accused?
Maryam’s relocation with her husband also raises questions about the limits of women’s safety. Under what circumstances can moving away reduce the risk of violence, and when do threats persist through family relationships, regardless of geographical distance?
To examine these questions, Radio Zamaneh spoke with Mandana Ghasemzadeh, who runs the Femicide Watch page. The conversation explores the mechanisms through which violence becomes collectively justified, and the forms of independent protection needed when a woman’s own family is the source of danger. It focuses on the responsibilities of public institutions, the possibility of seeking help safely and the prevention of femicide, without generalising the actions of the suspects or their supporters to an entire ethnic group or region.
When Control Over Women Becomes a Measure of Family Honour
Mandana Ghasemzadeh argues that in many patriarchal and traditional societies, including Iran, the social standing of a family, and particularly its male members, is closely tied to women’s sexual behaviour and the degree of control exercised over their bodies.
“Honour is constructed in the eyes of others, rather than grounded in reality. From an early age, men in the family are raised to believe that a man’s ability and authority to protect his family depend on controlling the bodies of its women.
“This control encompasses a wide range of practices: deciding whom women may marry and at what age, including forced and child marriage, and imposing restrictions on their freedom of movement, education, employment and even their relationships with others.”
According to Ghasemzadeh, this framework also includes close surveillance of women’s friendships, control over their clothing and appearance, family insistence on virginity testing, and efforts to prevent separation or divorce, even when women have reported abuse by their husbands.
She explains that within this worldview, a woman crossing the boundaries established by her family, or even a rumour that she has done so, can be perceived as a threat to the family’s reputation and a potential cause of social exclusion.
Pressure from neighbours, relatives and acquaintances to bring a woman under control can push male family members towards violence as a means of reasserting their authority or demonstrating their supposed masculine honour.
Ghasemzadeh also criticises Iran’s legal and judicial system, particularly provisions that allow certain relatives of a murder victim to demand or waive qisas (retributive punishment). Under Iran’s Islamic Penal Code, this right belongs to the victim’s legal heirs, excluding the spouse, and can create serious conflicts of interest when the perpetrator is a family member.
“The judicial and legal system, because of its existing shortcomings and its reliance on the authority of the victim’s legal heirs, leaves families considerable room to perpetrate these horrific acts of violence.
“When the family is both the party entitled to seek justice and the holder of legal authority over the victim’s death, it has enormous scope to commit such violence.”
Criticising Patriarchy Must Not Diminish the Perpetrator’s Responsibility
For Ghasemzadeh, any critique of patriarchy must begin by recognising “honour” as a socially constructed concept, one used within relations of power to regulate and control women’s behaviour, bodies and agency.
“In such analyses, we need to examine how these values change and are reproduced. If honour is regarded as a value in a particular region, our critique should begin by examining these socially constructed concepts.
“For example, we need to ask: Who has the authority to define acceptable behaviour for women? What mechanisms turn violations of sexual norms into matters concerning the reputation and honour of men or families? Under what circumstances do some people come to regard violence as a means of restoring a family’s lost authority?”
She emphasises the importance of examining how families, local institutions, the legal system and public discourse respond to violence.
Understanding the cultural context of violence, she argues, does not mean accepting culture as an excuse for it. Examining social norms can instead provide a basis for challenging concepts such as honour, the regulation of sexuality and men’s presumed entitlement to use violence.
Ghasemzadeh rejects the tendency to attribute these relationships to the identity of a particular region or culture, arguing that they must be examined within a broader framework. She also points out that while cultural norms can provide justifications for violence, cultures themselves can contain resources for resisting it. In her view, analysing patriarchal structures must go hand in hand with emphasising the individual responsibility of perpetrators.
“We must remember that many men within these very same families do not adhere to these gender norms in the same way, and some reject them altogether.
“That is why it is so important to emphasise the individual responsibility of the person who commits the offence or, in this case, the killer. The social and legal conditions, as well as the role of institutions responsible for overseeing and investigating violence, must also be taken into account.”
To avoid reproducing stereotypes, Ghasemzadeh argues that women must be included as analysts, critics and agents of social change, rather than being represented solely as victims or witnesses.
Women’s accounts of family control, threats, restrictions on movement and pressure to marry or remain in relationships can reveal otherwise hidden patterns of violence.
She also considers the role of women’s rights activists and local feminist groups essential. Their direct knowledge of communities can help identify honour-based norms and develop locally appropriate language and frameworks for challenging them.
Social workers, women’s protection specialists and lawyers can also shed light on people’s experiences of accessing justice, how the police and courts handle cases, and the barriers women face when reporting violence—barriers that have reportedly also played a role in the case of Maryam Yarmohammadi.
Local media can draw attention to pressure to reconcile and gaps in protection, helping to expose the institutional dimensions of the problem.
Ghasemzadeh further stresses the importance of how women are represented in news coverage.
She argues that critically examining the use of terms such as “honour”, “infidelity” and “family disputes” can help challenge honour-based attitudes, particularly in remote areas, some of which also experience discrimination.
Protecting Women Requires Safe and Independent Support Services
Ghasemzadeh identifies the lack of resources as one of the principal obstacles to protecting women facing threats of violence.
She points to the shortage of women’s shelters and independent support organisations capable of intervening effectively when women are at risk.
When the family itself is the source of danger, she argues, relying on relatives or a woman’s immediate social networks is not enough.
“Safe shelters and independent support organisations can offer women a way out of dangerous environments, access to psychological and legal assistance, and the opportunity to plan for long-term safety and independence.
“Unfortunately, the shortage of these centres, their uneven geographical distribution and the lack of trained specialists severely limit women’s access to protection.
“In smaller communities, fears about having one’s identity exposed, or about family members and other local people finding out that help has been sought, create another obstacle. Such concerns may prevent support organisations from intervening effectively.”
Ghasemzadeh calls for expanding the network of women’s shelters with stable funding, guaranteeing confidentiality, training specialised staff and establishing safe, independent support networks.
This interview was conducted and written by Hossein Noushazar.