Dr. Raha Sarvestany on women’s rights and resistance in Iran

As we mark International Women’s Day 2026, the global conversation around women’s rights and resistance movements is more than a headline – for women in Iran, it is “part of a long struggle for dignity, freedom, and the right to share both public and intellectual life.” 

This month, Dr. Raha Sarvestany reflects on unrest in Iran, the role universities play in shaping society during times of crisis, and the country’s contemporary resistance efforts – especially those led by women and students.

Dr. Sarvestany considered our questions only days before the situation in Iran shifted dramatically with the onset of war affecting all civilians, including students and scholars.

Q: In your most recent op-ed, The Mobile Rings in the Pockets of the Dead: Parents Calling Their Children, you assert that “contemporary unrest in Iran must be understood within a long-term trajectory of political repression, systematic exclusion of dissent, and recurring cycles of popular protest.” What does this historical context reveal about current women’s and student movements in Iran? In particular, how have they evolved over time to meet today’s challenges?

When I talk about today’s unrest in Iran, I see it as part of a much longer story. Since the 1979 Revolution, people in Iran, especially women and students, have continuously pushed back against restrictions and repression. From the early protests against compulsory hijab to the crackdown on universities, women and students have been at the heart of challenging state control. This is not something new or sudden. It’s part of a long struggle for dignity, freedom, and the right to shape both public life and intellectual life. Women have resisted decades of legal discrimination and mandatory veiling. Students have repeatedly defended universities as spaces for critical thinking, not political control.

What feels different since the 2022 “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement is how these struggles have come together. Today, people from different backgrounds, across generations, ethnicities, and social groups, are more united. The demands are also deeper. It’s no longer just about changing a law or electing different officials; many are questioning the system itself. Despite heavy repression, arrests, and surveillance, people have adapted. They organize in decentralized ways, use digital platforms, and build solidarity inside and outside the country. What we are witnessing is an evolving, resilient movement that continues to demand democracy, accountability, and fundamental change.

Q: Various instruments of repression and censorship have long been employed to quell dissent and marginalized voices in Iran. How have these systems of censure affected knowledge production for the academic community in and outside Iran? What long-term ramifications can we expect from this?

In Iran, repression in universities is not abstract; it directly affects students and professors. They can face suspension, expulsion, travel bans, or dismissal simply for expressing political views. Labels like “starred students” are used to block certain students from continuing their education, and extensive background checks exclude those considered ideologically unsuitable.

These controls operate at many levels. Broad national security laws are used to criminalize academic speech. Institutions such as the Supreme Council of the Cultural Revolution oversee universities, shaping curricula and faculty appointments through ideological screening. Religious minorities, including the Baháʼí community, have faced systematic exclusion from higher education and public life for decades. Censorship also affects research and publishing. Books can be banned, conferences require permission, and access to archives or fieldwork is often restricted. Digital surveillance and internet filtering limit communication, while arrests and intimidation create a climate of fear. Over time, many scholars avoid sensitive topics like gender, governance, or minority rights simply to survive professionally.

The result is a serious distortion of knowledge. When research must align with ideology, academic freedom shrinks, innovation declines, and important social issues remain underexplored. For those who leave the country, there is both loss and resilience. Iran has experienced a major brain drain, but scholars in exile have formed international networks to continue critical work. One example is the International Community of Iranian Academics, which creates collaborative spaces beyond state control. Still, cooperation with colleagues inside Iran remains risky. In the long run, this repression doesn’t just harm individuals; it weakens the country’s intellectual future. When knowledge is controlled by ideology, the space for democratic dialogue, scientific progress, and social development becomes deeply constrained.

Q: One of the often employed tools has been the closure of schools and universities in Iran. What is a state’s goal in ceasing educational operations, in your view, and what are the individual and collective ramifications of these closures, in particular for women?

In my view, closing schools and universities during unrest is not just about security; it often becomes a way to control society. After the mass killings reported in January 2026, many students chose to boycott classes and exams as a way to mourn and protest. But beyond that, the authorities have repeatedly shut down educational institutions to prevent campuses from becoming spaces of organization and dissent.

In recent years, Iran’s education system has faced constant disruption, from COVID-19 and air pollution to electricity shortages, the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement, reported poisonings in girls’ schools, the 2025 confrontation between Iran and Israel, and now renewed unrest. Each crisis is different, but together they have created long-term instability in education.

Universities have historically been places where young people gather, debate, and organize. When campuses close, those networks are broken. It becomes harder for students to connect, share ideas, and sustain collective action. The impact is serious. Students experience delays, uncertainty, and emotional stress. For women and girls, the consequences are even greater. Education has been one of the main ways women in Iran have gained independence and visibility in public life. When schools close, their access to opportunity and mobility is especially affected. So these closures are not just administrative decisions. They reshape public life. They limit a generation’s ability to come together, think critically, and imagine a different future, and that has long-term consequences for democracy and social development.

Q: With over two decades of experience documenting social movements as an academic and human rights activist, how have you navigated information vacuums and “opinion engineering”? Is there any advice you can offer to others working in similar contexts?

Working in a system where information is tightly controlled is one of the hardest parts of being both a researcher and a human rights advocate. In that kind of environment, it’s very difficult to know what is fully true, what is partly true, and what is intentionally misleading. Over time, I’ve also had to question my own assumptions. As I gained distance and access to more diverse sources, my understanding became more nuanced.

In practice, I always compare multiple sources. I look at how different political groups describe the same event, and I check reporting from media inside and outside Iran. I pay attention not only to what is said, but also to what is left out, and how the story is framed. Often, the differences between narratives reveal a lot.

My own experience of discrimination, arrest, and imprisonment has made me very aware of how fear and misinformation are used. But it has also taught me to be careful. When you have lived through repression, emotions are strong, so it becomes even more important to slow down and verify facts. Authoritarian systems, like the Iranian regime, rely heavily on controlling information. So my advice is simple: use diverse sources, be aware of your own possible biases, and choose accuracy over speed. In a space full of propaganda, patience and careful fact-checking are powerful forms of resistance.

Q: What do you want the global higher education community to understand about the urgency of the situation in Iran right now? How can they offer meaningful support?

What I want the global higher education community to understand is that what’s happening in Iran is not just a political crisis, it’s also a crisis for universities and knowledge itself. When academic freedom is restricted, it doesn’t only silence people; it weakens the ability of society to think, question, and imagine alternatives.

Too often, universities stay in their own bubble. Many scholars focus only on research and publications and hesitate to engage with social and political realities. Of course, there are important exceptions. But in general, success in academia is measured by publishing in specialized journals that most ordinary people never read. The language can be difficult, and research can feel disconnected from everyday life. Students may study theories that seem far removed from the urgent issues unfolding around them.

In Iran, and also in countries like Nepal, Bangladesh, China, and Sri Lanka, young people are questioning political systems and demanding change. The key question is whether universities are truly preparing them to understand and shape that change, or whether education remains distant from real life. Real support from the global academic community must go beyond statements of concern. It means protecting scholars at risk, amplifying silenced voices, building partnerships with those inside and outside the country, and designing education that speaks directly to justice, governance, and democratic participation.

At a deeper level, universities need to ask themselves: what is our role in times of crisis? Higher education cannot stay neutral when the very conditions that make free thinking and research possible are under threat.

Q: Since we last were in touch on this interview, the situation in Iran has escalated dramatically with the outbreak of war, which SAR is following closely and with concern. Are there any additional comments you would like to share in terms of the current impact of the present conflict?

No change imposed by force is ever truly real or lasting. Profound and meaningful transformation unfolds gradually, through the evolution of ideas, culture, and social structures. Even if war can overthrow a regime or destroy military infrastructure, it cannot overnight transform a mentality shaped by years of conflict, supported by intellectual systems, and sustained by institutions designed for war. War may eliminate individuals, but it cannot erase the culture that grows under the shadow of dictatorship, fear, and hatred.

This war, whatever its justification or purpose, must be stopped. It must end not only because of the devastation it has already caused and the lives lost across all countries involved, but also for the sake of humanity and human dignity.

If diplomacy fails to deliver results, other paths must be pursued, such as dialogue beyond official channels, civic pressure, mediation, and mechanisms of international accountability. Destruction cannot create a just and humane future. What can reshape the future is the creation of new solutions and a new logic for governing our world: a logic that places human dignity and freedom at its center; that values peace, dialogue, and cooperation; that embraces a genuinely global perspective; and that builds effective international institutions, including independent and credible courts capable of holding incompetent leaders and dictators accountable when diplomacy fails. The world does not need the reproduction of violence. What it urgently needs is the renewal of political ethics and a deeper sense of global responsibility.

 

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