Four years have passed since the state killing of Zhina Mahsa Amini, the young Kurdish woman whose death in the custody of the morality police laid bare one of the clearest instances of intersectional oppression within the Islamic Republic. Zhina was, as a woman, subjected to a system that exercises power over women’s bodies, dress, and choices, and, as a Kurd, belonged to a community that has for decades faced discrimination, securitization, and political repression. Her being a woman and her being Kurdish were not two separate realities; they converged in her fate, and revealed how gender discrimination and national oppression can be exercised upon a single life at once.
It was from this very point that “Woman, Life, Freedom” moved beyond protest over the killing of a single young woman and became a sweeping demand for freedom, equality, and human dignity. This movement is not only about compulsory hijab. A woman’s right over her own body and destiny, equality in marriage and divorce, custody, inheritance, employment, education, and political participation are as much a part of it as the right of Kurds and other discriminated against nations and ethnicities to live with their own identity and dignity, the right of workers to a decent life, the right of students to protest, and the right of families to seek justice. The message of this movement was clear: freedom cannot be divided.
The Islamic Republic’s response to these demands was not dialogue or reform; it was bullets, detention, torture, sexual and gender based violence, enforced disappearance, unfair trials, and execution. Kurdistan, from Saqqez and Sanandaj to Mahabad and Javanrud, was once again among the primary centers of state violence. The United Nations Independent International Fact Finding Mission likewise concluded that a number of the violations committed in the course of this crackdown, carried out as part of a widespread and organized attack against the civilian population, bore the elements of crimes against humanity.
This finding is not merely a political condemnation. Under international criminal law, responsibility must not stop at the level of the officer who fired the shot or the interrogator. It must be established who designed and directed the policy of repression, who gave the orders, which officials exercised control over the forces responsible, and which institutions acted after the crimes to conceal the truth and shield the perpetrators. Governmental office, military rank, or political standing must not become a shield against criminal accountability.
Four years later, one of the most significant factors sustaining violence in Iran remains impunity. Rather than gaining access to truth and justice, victims’ families have repeatedly faced threats and pressure, and the institutions responsible for the repression have not only escaped accountability but have expanded their influence over citizens’ public and private lives. The recurrence of bloody crackdowns, including after the January Protests, together with wartime conditions, poverty, rising prices, and economic insecurity, shows that Iran’s problem today is an interconnected combination of political repression, structural discrimination, and social injustice.
Hana emphasizes that Justice Seeking for Zhina and all those who lost their lives in “Woman, Life, Freedom” is not merely about preserving the memory of the victims. Justice Seeking means truth, justice, reparation, and the prevention of recurrence. Documents must be preserved, the chain of responsibility must be identified, and independent judicial authorities must, wherever a legal basis exists, make use of universal jurisdiction and other mechanisms of criminal law to investigate and prosecute individuals suspected of committing international crimes.
Zhina was a woman and a Kurd; and what happened to her exposed the intersection of two structures of discrimination.
“Woman, Life, Freedom” is not a demand to amend a few laws; it is a demand to end an order that has made discrimination lawful, repression normal, and impunity possible.
Four years have passed, but Zhina’s case remains open: a case for truth, justice, and freedom.