Jin, Jîyan, Azadî!

You’ve probably heard by now. ‘Death of a young woman in Iran sparks global protests’—it’s all over the news. Kim Kardashian empathises. Even Bratz Inc. supports the demonstrations. Love and solidarity are great, but is that it? Beyond delivering heartfelt statements, nobody seems to care about Iran. The media in the West is warping the news coming out of the Middle Eastern country. I’d like to set the record straight.

Her name is Jîna Amini, not Mahsa. Mahsa is the Persian name she was given to fit in. Jîna is what her family called her. Jîna is from Seqqez, a city in Kurdistan occupied by the Islamic Republic (Iran refers to the people; Islamic Republic refers to the murderous, dictatorial government). It’s criminal to be a Kurd under the regime in Iran. She was on a visit to Tehran, and allegedly, she wasn’t wearing her hijab ‘properly.’ That’s all it took—her ethnicity and gender—for her to be murdered. The police, a force ironically created to defend their version of ‘morality’, claimed she died of preexisting health issues. They lied. She was killed, just like countless others have been, under the merciless regime of the Islamic Republic.

The murder of Jîna Amini on September 16 is the straw that broke the camel’s back. 43 years of massacre is enough. 43 years of gender apartheid is enough. As I write this, people from across Iran are in the streets protesting the regime. They are yelling “Woman, Life, Freedom!” In Kurdish, “Jin Jîyan Azadî! Death to the dictator! I will kill, I will kill the one who kills my sister! Say her name!” Many are singing songs from the 1979 revolution, beautiful songs of strength, unity, and courage. (Some are wishing for the return of the days of the Shah, the leader of Iran before the Islamic Republic. For Jîna, however, that is not a golden age, as Kurds were oppressed under the Shah too.) Many who were forced to wear the hijab are now burning it, and cutting their hair short.

The size of the protests is reminiscent of the 2019 demonstrations in Iran during the fuel price outcry. Over 1,500 people died then, although the Islamic Republic reported only a few hundred. This time, the media has estimated the deaths of 75 people. But the death toll is most likely higher. In 2019, like what’s happening now, the Islamic Republic shut down the internet in most of the country. No internet means no communicating with loved ones, no organising, and no access to online essential services. No internet means a lot of deaths kept silent.

It’s not just in Iran that people are outraged. In the diaspora, Iranians are erupting into protest. There has been a demonstration almost every day in the Greater Toronto Area since Jîna’s murder, and they are growing bigger with each passing minute. Toronto is, after all, the home to the second largest concentration of Iranians living outside Iran, after Los Angeles. On the evening of September 23, approximately 1,000 protesters occupied Dundas Square. There were close to 50,000 people in Richmond Hill on October 1. The size of these crowds is unprecedented for Iranians protesting in Toronto—and yet there were very few news sources present. If this was concerning Ukraine, every media outlet in the city would have reported on the protest.

Even the University of Toronto is hosting protests in honour of Jîna. On a freezing afternoon last week, approximately 300 students gathered for a vigil in front of the office of the President of the University, Meric Gertler. (Gertler, along with the rest of the administration was conspicuous in their absence.) I got to hear Azam Jangravi give a speech. Jangravi is an exiled feminist activist from Iran now living in Toronto. She told the story of the day she, like many others, stood in one of the largest squares in Tehran and ripped off her hijab. Nima Yajam, a queer rights activist and political refugee, also delivered a moving speech. Jangravi and Yajam reminded me that queer-led and women-led movements have always been at the forefront of change.

Whether these protests will bring about real change is a source of great debate. Most are saying little will change. Although it is important not to dismiss the power that feminist movements hold, it does feel hopeless. The Islamic Republic routinely murders, routinely offers up martyrs to act as an outlet for decades of anger. This is not new. The imbalance of power between the people and the dictatorship is too great. But most of all, it feels hopeless because nobody gives a shit about the Middle East.

Speaking of, Canada’s House of Commons adopted a solidarity motion—a cowardly and performative act meant to release the Canadian government from the pressure of implementing concrete change. Meric Gertler too, feeling sheepish, issued a statement of solidarity with Iran to the UofT community. (The grandiose speech he gave after the passing of Queen Elizabeth II put this puny statement to shame.) Is that the extent of international aid one can expect? Empty acts of solidarity?

The situation continues to unfold. Iran is now bombing a region of Kurdistan occupied by Iraq for, allegedly, fueling the protests. (Iraq doesn’t seem to mind that their own people are being bombed. More proof that being a Kurd is inherently criminal.) Canada is tightening their sanctions on the country. Whether this will do more harm to the people instead of the government remains to be seen. The Canadian Conservative Party is also pushing to designate the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) a terrorist organization. Doing so might justify humanitarian intervention, but at what cost? Will it not fuel anti-Iranian racism abroad? Will it not justify a gung-ho, white saviour war on the ‘uncivilised’ Middle East?

History has proven that Iran does sometimes fold to international pressure. This means moving beyond performative ‘solidarity’ and towards concrete action. That means write to your local politician. Write to UofT. Apply pressure. Tell your leaders what I’ve told you. Other than that, I have nothing else to recommend but protesting. Please, go shout in the streets, “Jin Jîyan Azadî!” I will leave you with these words from Marina Nemat: “[…] miracles do happen in history. The problem is they are usually neither quick nor easy—and they do have a high cost.”