Iran today Seyedeh Parinaz Mahdavi skrifar 12. mars 2026 08:18 Almost everyone today knows what is happening in the Middle East and the war that is affecting Iran. I am not here to speak politically about this. I speak as someone who was honoured three years ago to receive a Courage Award on behalf of Women and Girls of Iran at the Reykjavik Global Forum, representing the bravery of women whose lives are shaped by oppression and inequality. Considering this, and the ongoing war and different stories of happiness and sadness within the country on social media, it gave me the urgency and responsibility to write, as a woman who lived in Iran and witnessed their struggles firsthand. Growing up in Iran under the current regime, girls are forced from the age of seven to wear the hijab in schools, and this is only the beginning of a lifetime of restrictions on personal freedom and expression. And do not think that these laws are just about clothing—they are part of a system that denies the very basic human rights of people, specifically women, suppresses their voices, and limits their autonomy. For decades, women and children have faced arbitrary arrests, imprisonment, torture, and killings, simply for asserting their basic human rights and saying no to any force by an apartheid regime. The tragic death of Mahsa Zhina Amini in 2022 is a powerful symbol of this ongoing struggle, but she is far from the only one. Tens of thousands of women and children have been targeted over the past 47 years, and recent months alone have seen hundreds of young lives lost or shattered in acts of repression and violence. They shut down the internet on people, like how they are doing it right now, and at the same time in the very country the regime itself has access to the internet to show whatever they would like to present to the world, which is far from the reality. The people inside Iran have been through an internal war for many years; the difference here is that no other countries attacked them—not with missiles, but with guns, bullets, prisons, torture, and rape. And for what? Demanding basic human rights. It is important to understand that this struggle is not about religion, but against an oppressive system that systematically silences women, minorities, and dissenting voices. This is a voice of humble people with a deep history just demanding freedom. When Iranians express hope, relief, or even cautious happiness at the possible fall of this regime in this war, it is not an endorsement of war. No healthy person desires war—but after decades of killings, imprisonment, and suppression, the people long for safety, dignity, and justice, and of course they show happiness and hope for change, and sadly, apparently demanding human rights in some parts of the world means losing a lot and even accepting the consequence of war. Imagine growing up in a world where every choice you make is scrutinized, where your voice could lead to punishment, and where the simplest acts of freedom feel like rebellion. Now imagine living this way for decades, yet still finding the courage to stand, speak, and resist. Pause for a moment and think of the women and children who have carried this weight, whose bravery is often invisible, yet whose hope refuses to be extinguished. Their struggle is not only theirs; it is a call for all of us to recognize how dignity, freedom, and humanity truly can be achieved. The voices of these women and children need to be heard. Their experiences, their happiness and hope at the possibility of change of the regime, as well as their fear and worry about the ongoing war, must be understood, acknowledged, and respected. The author is a Doctoral Graduate Student, Univerity of Iceland. Viltu birta grein á Vísi? Kynntu þér reglur ritstjórnar um skoðanagreinar. Senda grein Mest lesið Þjóðarvarnarráðið hefur verið kallað saman af minna tilefni! Davíð Bergmann Skoðun Hvers vegna ég skipti um skoðun á aðild Íslands að Evrópusambandinu Gunnar Ármannsson Skoðun Orðspor og ímynd bíður hnekki Haukur Hinriksson Skoðun Stafrænt fullveldi er ekki frönsk sérviska Þorsteinn Siglaugsson Skoðun Spyrjið ykkur: Fyrir hvern vinnur íslenska krónan? Þórður Snær Júlíusson Skoðun Meitlað í stein eða kannski, hugsanlega, ef til vill Sigurður Egilsson Skoðun Gervigreind á ekki að hugsa fyrir okkur Helgi S. Karlsson Skoðun Hvaða áhættu tekur Ísland ef við breytum engu? – Framtíðarsýn til ársins 2050 Þorvaldur Ingi Jónsson Skoðun Af hverju „Nei“ 29. ágúst? Alfreð Sturla Böðvarsson Skoðun Um líf og dauða, fullveldi og ESB II Bjarni Már Magnússon Skoðun Skoðun Skoðun Spyrjið ykkur: Fyrir hvern vinnur íslenska krónan? Þórður Snær Júlíusson skrifar Skoðun Þjóðarvarnarráðið hefur verið kallað saman af minna tilefni! Davíð Bergmann skrifar Skoðun Orðspor og ímynd bíður hnekki Haukur Hinriksson skrifar Skoðun Stafrænt fullveldi er ekki frönsk sérviska Þorsteinn Siglaugsson skrifar Skoðun Gervigreind á ekki að hugsa fyrir okkur Helgi S. Karlsson skrifar Skoðun Hvers vegna ég skipti um skoðun á aðild Íslands að Evrópusambandinu Gunnar Ármannsson skrifar Skoðun Mannréttindi eru ekki skrifstofa heldur framkvæmd Auður Axelsdóttir skrifar Skoðun Af hverju „Nei“ 29. ágúst? Alfreð Sturla Böðvarsson skrifar Skoðun Að hafa rétt eftir Ingólfur Sverrisson skrifar Skoðun Hvaða áhættu tekur Ísland ef við breytum engu? – Framtíðarsýn til ársins 2050 Þorvaldur Ingi Jónsson skrifar Skoðun Almyrkvi á sólu 12.ágúst 2026: Gagnlegar upplýsingar Runólfur Þórhallsson skrifar Skoðun Um líf og dauða, fullveldi og ESB II Bjarni Már Magnússon skrifar Skoðun Meitlað í stein eða kannski, hugsanlega, ef til vill Sigurður Egilsson skrifar Skoðun Krónuhagkerfið og kostnaður heimilanna Sigurður Kristinn Pálsson skrifar Skoðun Litir, form og staðarandi Þórður Már Sigfússon skrifar Skoðun Brexit ekki orsök efnahagsáskorana Breta Kristinn Sv. Helgason skrifar Skoðun Jörðin er dómkirkjan okkar. Geimurinn er verkstæðið okkar. Árni Sigurðsson skrifar Skoðun Stækkun bílaborgarinnar er ekki sjálfgefin - Ný byggð til norðurs kallar á öflugri almenningssamgöngur Stefán Agnar Finnsson skrifar Skoðun Hvenær hættir maður að vera útlendingur? Valerio Gargiulo skrifar Skoðun Viðvörunarljós um farsæld barna má ekki hunsa Steinunn Bergmann skrifar Skoðun Sjö algengar ranghugmyndir um hvali og hvalveiðar Eyþór Eðvarðsson skrifar Skoðun Aðildarviðræður eru ekki upplýsingaleit heldur undirbúningur að aðild Gunnar Ármannsson skrifar Skoðun Um líf og dauða, fullveldi og ESB Bjarni Már Magnússon skrifar Skoðun Ný greining: Hvað myndu húsnæðisvextir lækka með ESB og evru? Dagur B. Eggertsson skrifar Skoðun Hvað er í pakkanum? Hannes Lúðvíksson skrifar Skoðun Nýsköpunin sem hverfur inn í skýið Bogi Ragnarsson skrifar Skoðun Þegar kaffið rennur upp á við í Undralandi íslenskrar orðræðu Sigurður Sigurðsson skrifar Skoðun Þeir seldu áhættuna sem tækifæri — og sendu þjóðinni reikninginn Baldur Pétursson skrifar Skoðun Traust á lögmönnum er ekki einkamál lögmanna Vilbert Gústafsson skrifar Skoðun Upplýsingar eru ekki ógn, þær eru forsenda Halldór Jörgen Olesen skrifar Sjá meira
Almost everyone today knows what is happening in the Middle East and the war that is affecting Iran. I am not here to speak politically about this. I speak as someone who was honoured three years ago to receive a Courage Award on behalf of Women and Girls of Iran at the Reykjavik Global Forum, representing the bravery of women whose lives are shaped by oppression and inequality. Considering this, and the ongoing war and different stories of happiness and sadness within the country on social media, it gave me the urgency and responsibility to write, as a woman who lived in Iran and witnessed their struggles firsthand. Growing up in Iran under the current regime, girls are forced from the age of seven to wear the hijab in schools, and this is only the beginning of a lifetime of restrictions on personal freedom and expression. And do not think that these laws are just about clothing—they are part of a system that denies the very basic human rights of people, specifically women, suppresses their voices, and limits their autonomy. For decades, women and children have faced arbitrary arrests, imprisonment, torture, and killings, simply for asserting their basic human rights and saying no to any force by an apartheid regime. The tragic death of Mahsa Zhina Amini in 2022 is a powerful symbol of this ongoing struggle, but she is far from the only one. Tens of thousands of women and children have been targeted over the past 47 years, and recent months alone have seen hundreds of young lives lost or shattered in acts of repression and violence. They shut down the internet on people, like how they are doing it right now, and at the same time in the very country the regime itself has access to the internet to show whatever they would like to present to the world, which is far from the reality. The people inside Iran have been through an internal war for many years; the difference here is that no other countries attacked them—not with missiles, but with guns, bullets, prisons, torture, and rape. And for what? Demanding basic human rights. It is important to understand that this struggle is not about religion, but against an oppressive system that systematically silences women, minorities, and dissenting voices. This is a voice of humble people with a deep history just demanding freedom. When Iranians express hope, relief, or even cautious happiness at the possible fall of this regime in this war, it is not an endorsement of war. No healthy person desires war—but after decades of killings, imprisonment, and suppression, the people long for safety, dignity, and justice, and of course they show happiness and hope for change, and sadly, apparently demanding human rights in some parts of the world means losing a lot and even accepting the consequence of war. Imagine growing up in a world where every choice you make is scrutinized, where your voice could lead to punishment, and where the simplest acts of freedom feel like rebellion. Now imagine living this way for decades, yet still finding the courage to stand, speak, and resist. Pause for a moment and think of the women and children who have carried this weight, whose bravery is often invisible, yet whose hope refuses to be extinguished. Their struggle is not only theirs; it is a call for all of us to recognize how dignity, freedom, and humanity truly can be achieved. The voices of these women and children need to be heard. Their experiences, their happiness and hope at the possibility of change of the regime, as well as their fear and worry about the ongoing war, must be understood, acknowledged, and respected. The author is a Doctoral Graduate Student, Univerity of Iceland.
Hvaða áhættu tekur Ísland ef við breytum engu? – Framtíðarsýn til ársins 2050 Þorvaldur Ingi Jónsson Skoðun
Skoðun Hvers vegna ég skipti um skoðun á aðild Íslands að Evrópusambandinu Gunnar Ármannsson skrifar
Skoðun Hvaða áhættu tekur Ísland ef við breytum engu? – Framtíðarsýn til ársins 2050 Þorvaldur Ingi Jónsson skrifar
Skoðun Stækkun bílaborgarinnar er ekki sjálfgefin - Ný byggð til norðurs kallar á öflugri almenningssamgöngur Stefán Agnar Finnsson skrifar
Skoðun Aðildarviðræður eru ekki upplýsingaleit heldur undirbúningur að aðild Gunnar Ármannsson skrifar
Hvaða áhættu tekur Ísland ef við breytum engu? – Framtíðarsýn til ársins 2050 Þorvaldur Ingi Jónsson Skoðun