Marjane Satrapi shows that freedom is incomplete without women's liberation

In September 2022, a routine incident occurred on the streets of Tehran. A young woman caught by the morality police violating the established moral code was arrested. But no one expected what would happen: three days later, when news of her death from injuries inflicted by the police broke, protesters poured into the streets in astonishing numbers, demanding an end to the violent, oppressive regime that had exercised draconian, authoritarian rule for decades under the guise of religious orthodoxy.

In Woman, life, freedomMarjane Satrapi brings together writers, artists, activists and academics to place the events of that September in the broader context of Iranian politics and give readers an insight into the many facets of life in the months, days and hours when a revolution takes its first breath. How do the anger and frustration of a people find a Agree?

Stories of the Revolution

Mahsa Jina Amini was 22 years old and visiting relatives in Tehran with her family. When she took off her headscarf while walking through the city, she was picked up by the state-run morality police and taken to their offices in a van. Although officials later claimed that Amini had pre-existing health problems, the truth was clear to anyone who had previously suffered from the excesses of this system or simply observed the Iranian political scene over the past decades: punishment is symbolic in this system, a woman must be struck where she has sinned; Amini's refusal to wear a headscarf resulted in brutal blows to the head that resulted in a fractured skull.

When images of her grieving family found their way online thanks to a brave journalist – who was later also punished – women took to the streets in large numbers, removing and burning their headscarves and storming the internet with images of fiery anger. As the movement gained momentum – partly because the dam of women waiting for change gave way, and partly because it was popular in every sense of the word and many men were involved – the world was forced to look and take notice.

Unique stories are told in boxes of bold colors and simple words. Often in a few pages, sometimes a larger one, the lines of a world are masterfully outlined and left to the reader to ponder. We read about the colleges where female students challenged gender segregation at every turn, and about hostels where the issue of the headscarf explodes something that can no longer be contained. Then there is the delicate art of protest: how to send a signal, where to gather, when to seek shelter, each part of the machine must be discreetly assembled and dismantled. This disjointedness works to the benefit of the narrative – the reactions are a jumble, a web of shock and fear, despair and courage; if we get too caught up in the action of the moment, the lessons of history place them in the context of the many paths that have led to the present.

The old gods call

Some harrowing details emerge, such as: “Since November 2022, over a thousand young schoolgirls have been poisoned by poison gas in schools across Iran.” Elsewhere, page after page becomes memorials to those who died for days in battle that they could only hope their countrymen would soon see. In the name of religion, in the name of tradition, in the name of nation—many great gods have been upheld to protect a status quo that demands the joy and blood of those they supposedly serve; and Woman, life, freedom boldly challenges them. The various works together attempt to capture a moment in time defined not only by the tragedy that sparked it, but by the sheer potential of anger that fuels it.

With great attention to detail, the book's authors show that Iran – another victim of what citizens call the black gold curse, meaning the region's oil-rich countries in a long-term geopolitical crisis – is more than mainstream Western news outlets portray it to be. The small snippets of life we ​​glimpse in these panels make us think about what else Iran could be. Readers are taken through the aftermath of the historic protests. When there are moments of despair or a sense of disorientation, there is always a clear momentum toward change – full of hope, determined in the belief that things will improve.

“Women’s lives, freedom” was a slogan first sung by Kurdish women in the late 20th century, creating a kind of lifeblood between the three words, with the state of one inextricably linked to that of the other. Its appeal lies undoubtedly in the powerful rhetoric it can generate, but perhaps also in the simple truth it invokes. The patchwork of stories and anecdotes in Woman, life, freedom is an invitation to show compassion, to hold passionately and tenderly this moment of possibility, and to fight for the belief that all tyrants fall.

Woman, life, freedomcurated by Marjane Satrapi, translated from French by Una Dimitrijevic, Seven Stories Press.