‘I am ready to return whenever they say’: Nasrin Sotoudeh on prison, the hijab, and violence in Iran | Global development
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IRan’s prison in Karchak has been called many things: a torture chamber; the worst women’s prison in the world; unfit for humans. Nasrin Sotoudeh used only one word to describe the nine months she spent there: “Hell.”
Sotude doesn’t talk about the appalling conditions or the stench of sewage, the undrinkable water or the lack of food, the disease or the cruelty of isolation. She simply says, “I’m ready to come back when they say.”
The lawyer and human rights defender was three years old her sentence of 38 years, along with 148 lasheswhen it was put on hold for medical reasons after she was diagnosed with a heart condition in 2021.
Her temporary release means she lives at home in Tehran with her husband Reza Khandan and son Nima, 16, but it has not freed her from constant government harassment. The authorities are relentless in their efforts to silence her, bringing three new cases against her; sentencing her to another eight years in prison; banning her from practicing law and using social media; sentencing her husband to five years; freezing its bank assets; and banning her daughter, Mehrave Khandan, from leaving the country. The restriction on Handan, 24, who is now studying art in the Netherlands, is the only violation of freedom Sotude has successfully fought against.
“My family and I face constant legal sabotage that the justice system brings against us,” said Sotoudeh, who turns 61 this month.
But what hurts her most is the regime’s murderous determination to crush any dissent. The the death of Mahsa Amini in September 2022 and other young women, including 16-year-olds Armita Jeravandwho was assaulted by hijab-wearing police officers on the subway “was the hardest thing to endure.”
Her medical leave coincided with the government stepping up its war on women. The mass protests sparked by Amini’s death were met with a brutal crackdown by the authorities, leading to hundreds more deaths and thousands of arrests. Over the past month, videos of women who are forcibly thrown from the streets from the “morality police” that emerged as the government ramped up its hijab enforcement efforts with a new campaign called Noor (meaning light); and rapper Toomaj Salehi was sentenced to death for his support of the Women, Life, Freedom movement.
“It’s hard to wake up one day and hear that Mahsa is dying and wake up another day and hear that she has died, then wake up another day and hear that Armita has died. When you see this kind of violence against your girls and women, you ask: what should I do? she says.
“Then I remember being a kid and going to an amusement park and going into the tunnel of death and you scream; this childhood nightmare has turned into an adult nightmare – this is how it feels to live – to live in this dark tunnel of death.
“For women interested in this situation, the only way to cope is to get on with their lives.”
For Sotoudeh, that means continuing what she has done for three decades: publicly condemning abuses — and refusing to wear the hijab.
Sotude was among 20 women arrested and beaten for attending Jeravand’s funeral bare-headed. She was later sentenced to eight years for the act, but described her 18 days in prison immediately after her arrest as “one of the greatest experiences of my life”.
“We all came in without a hijab and came out without a hijab. I didn’t even have a scarf with me and it was amazing. I was already arrested – what were they going to do? she says.
In prison, the women spend time together reading and talking and continue to see each other. “We meet in cafes, they come to my house; what’s really remarkable is having this collective cause that brings everyone together. It is important to value this sense of solidarity.”
In his early 20s, Sotude worked in the legal department of a state-owned company Tejarat Bank, where he writes about human rights as a freelancer. During this time, an interview with a Nobel Peace Prize winner Shirin Ebadi prompted her decision to become a solicitor and she qualified in 1995, aged 32.
Since then, she has worked tirelessly for justice for women and children, defending children on death row and child victims of domestic violence; as well as prominent court activists among them Narges Hosseinione of the women who in 2018 took off her hijab, tied it to a stick and waved it like a flag – defiant acts captured on phones and shared on social media.
IN 2020 Movie Nasreen, a documentary about her life, Sotoudeh explains why the hijab is such a powerful symbol of misogyny. “Even if we were told today that all women are free to take off their hijab when they go out, that has no value for us.” If you force us to wear this half a meter of cloth, you will be able to do whatever you want with us.
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One of the most moving moments in the film is when Reza brings her children to visit her in prison. Little Nima is standing on a chair and holding a red lollipop. Sotude jokes with him behind the glass that separates them, while her daughter, old enough to understand the seriousness of the situation, looks on tearfully. “My son was very young when I was first arrested – it worried me that his first memory was of me in prison. I said to him: “I used to play with you and do things [before I went to prison]’ but he didn’t remember and it broke my heart,” she says.
Her grief at being separated from her children is clear in her letters from prison. In one, dated September 2011, she wrote to Nima: “These days I keep thinking about you, how lonely you must feel and about our dear Mehraveh who made us proud and who is now forced to take care of you and be your mother and your father at the same time. I send you my tears of love, hoping they will make the injustice of our times a little more bearable for you.”
She has been asked many times why she risks her family life and her answer is the same: she can fight for what she believes in and be a mother. “People say that life is precious, don’t sacrifice your family life, but human rights and freedom are also precious and valuable. So instead of sacrificing one for the other, I balance them when I can.”
And her family never doubted her. Reza shows his loyalty repeatedly in the documentary; and when prison guards handed her an “apology form” to fill out and ask for forgiveness – something she would never do – Handan was just as adamant that she shouldn’t. “My daughter has always supported me,” says Sotude, Handan’s artwork on the wall behind her.
Sotoudeh’s activism has been recognized internationally with numerous awards, including the 2019 Council of Bars and Law Societies of Europe (CCBE) Award; 2020 Right Lifestyle Award and the 2023 Brown Democracy Medal. This year, she was selected for the Aurora Humanitarian Award, along with the Nobel Prize-winning gynecologist Denis Mukwege of the Democratic Republic of the Congo and a Danish-Bahrain activist Abdulhadi al-Khawaja. The winner will be announced on May 9. Sotude will not be able to attend in person.
Treatment for her heart condition, which she attributes to multiple hunger strikes, continues, but if the state deems her well enough, she will have to return to prison to serve out her sentence. In the meantime, he works as hard as he can. Being barred from practicing law is a huge source of frustration: it limits what she can do for people, and it’s her passion. “I’m a lawyer, my favorite thing is to practice law, but I don’t have a license and even though I’ve tried so many times, the bar association has refused to renew it.
“But that doesn’t mean I’m inactive,” she adds.
She wrote a book about the Women, Life, Freedom movement for Penn State University and published a collection of her prison letters. She also provides counseling to political prisoners and activists and advises colleagues.
She perseveres because she believes that one day justice will prevail.
“When the hijab became compulsory after the 1979 revolution, the majority of people and society made it possible because they had no motivation to unite against it,” she says. “Now, 45 years later, the majority of society is not only against it, but also has the motivation to stand up and fight against it.”
This time, she adds, women also have the support of men. “Women and men are realizing that every problem is rooted in misogyny and patriarchy.
“No one can predict the future, but I have no doubt in my mind that this kind of violence and inhumanity against women is not sustainable.”
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