Directed by celebrated graphic novelist Marjane Satrapi, author of Persepolis, this variety of insightful vignettes also leaves out minority voices

~ Rabihan Luleci ~

The current struggle for women in the Islamic Republic of Iran is approached through a variety of artistic styles in this book. The various contributors concisely illustrate a brief overview of the history of Iran, the events leading up to its current political climate,  the murder of Jina Amini, and the protest movement that erupted following her murder on September 16, 2022.

The book begins with a summary of several thousand years of history and discusses the origins of the “Woman, Life, Freedom” slogan that was created and advocated for by Kurdish women. The murder of Jina Amini is portrayed and it is acknowledged that the Woman, Life, Freedom protests largely began in Kurdish-majority cities in Eastern Kurdistan/Western Iran like Sanandaj and Saqqez. Jina’s Kurdish name is used alongside her Persian one, Mahsa.

Notable chapters include “Bloody Friday”, a short chapter focusing on the rape of a Baloch girl by police; “In The Hellhole of Evin Prison” about the experience of a woman prisoner; and “The Anthem of the Uprising” about the experiences of protestors and what they are fighting for.

The book explains through a variety of voices the history and political reality that foregrounds Satrapi’s most famous work, Persepolis. But all I can think while reading it is—where are the voices of the women who launched this revolution? Where is their language? Where are their histories? Why do I need to search for them between the lines of what is written?

I feel sadness and rage when I see pictures of Jina Amini. I feel angry that she was not safer. I feel frustrated that the “Woman, Life, Freedom” slogan—so Kurdish—is used as a title of this book when within it, little attention is paid to the struggles of ethnic minorities in Iran such as Kurds, Baloch, Azeris, and Lur. Significantly, no Kurdish authors or cartoonists’ work appear in the book. Their work is not featured. They are sad faces granted compassion by the civilised and neutral Persians and Iranians. When I read the book, I felt that I was  desperately searching a photograph for a face that I couldn’t  find;  panic rose within me as I realised that the face is not in the photograph at all.

Jina could not legally be Jina, because Kurds and other minorities in Iran must have a Persian legal name. Jina was targeted as an insufficiently “modest” young woman and also as a  Kurd.Her status as an ethnic minority and a woman made her a dual threat to a regime concerned with policing minorities of all kinds. 

In one chapter the author  writes, “That slogan [Jin, Jiyan, Azadi] has transcended borders and languages; the Iranian women’s revolution is in full swing.” My heart burns. Whether they are beneath the boot of secularisation or an ethnic security threat to a sectarian regime, I feel, reading this, that Kurds continue to have their women, life, and freedom stolen from them that their Kurdishness is something to be transcended or omitted for a greater good of which they will never be a part. The women executed for allegedly having ties to Kurdish political groups outside of Iran are not considered politically neutral enough to be included. Their experiences are not “universal” (Persian) enough.

In the words of Kurdish feminist Jiyan Zandi, “In order for this revolution to be truly successful, it must be intersectional—a movement that breaks down the borders of nationalism and is inclusive of all identities.” 

I implore Satrapi and her co-writers to release an updated edition of this book that includes contributions, illustrations  and/or narratives at least from Rojhelati Kurds. Until then, we will all keep fighting for women, life, and freedom.

Woman, Life, Freedom. Edited by Marjane Satrapi, trans. from the French by Una Dimitrijevic. Seven Stories Press, 272pp. ISBN 978-1-64421-405-3