Iranian authorities have taken legal action against the officials of a boys' school in Babol, northern Iran, after a video showing students engaged in a group dance went viral.
The school officials have been summoned, and the case is being probed by oversight bodies, state-run media reported on Wednesday.
At Lakan prison in Rasht, political prisoners held in the Misaq Ward are in quarantine-like conditions and are isolated and poorly equipped to weather cold winter months.
The small yard, barely four square meters in size, is surrounded by tall concrete walls topped with metal mesh, offering little in the way of ventilation or natural light.
Inside, the metal beds are short and lack mattresses, forcing prisoners to either sleep hunched over or on the damp, cold cement floors.
With the arrival of winter, the situation has worsened, with inmates forced to use thin, inadequate blankets to shield themselves from low temperatures just above the freezing point.
Despite these efforts, illness—ranging from colds to more serious flu outbreaks—has become widespread, especially among prisoners with preexisting health conditions.
Some of the men in the section are middle-aged and suffer from chronic joint pain, yet they are compelled to wash with ice-cold water as the ward lacks hot water and functional heaters. Frequent power outages only exacerbate the problem, as the prison’s heating system does not have a backup power supply, leaving inmates without warmth day and night.
Prison regulations make matters worse. Clothing from families is only accepted twice a year, and the garments must meet strict standards, with hats, zippers and decorations banned.
With the onset of cold weather, the prison administration has shut down the office responsible for distributing warm clothing, declaring that it is now impossible to provide such items to the inmates.
Conditions in the women’s section of Lakan prison, where around 150 female prisoners are held, are similarly grim.
According to Forough Saminiya, a women’s rights activist and prisoner in Lakan, the women’s quarters are cramped, and the kitchen only contains a samovar, leaving prisoners with little means to feed adequately feed themselves.
The prison food is described as substandard and barely provides sufficient nutrition.
Saminiya also highlighted the exploitative nature of the prison shop, which has been monopolized by a single individual.
With over 150 regular customers, the shop charges exorbitant prices for essential goods. For those with specific dietary needs—such as Saminiya, who suffers from diabetes—the shop offers little to accommodate their conditions.
“Maintaining a proper diet in Lakan Prison is impossible,” she said, lamenting the lack of vegetables and the need to avoid starch.
Systemic Abuse in Qarchak prison
Across the country in Qarchak Prison near Tehran, the conditions for women and children have also become increasingly dire.
Jila Baniyaghoob, a journalist and women’s rights activist, reported that almost all of the prisoners have fallen ill with colds, and there is a shortage of medicine.
Sick prisoners are only given two antibiotic capsules, an inadequate remedy for the health issues. In addition, the prison’s medical facilities are under-resourced, with the number of available medical visits severely limited—only five prisoners per ward are allowed to see the doctor at a time.
Baniyaghoob also pointed out the water shortages in Qarchak, where drinking water has been cut off for several days. "Clean water has been cut off for several days. Each prison ward, with over a hundred prisoners, has only one tap of clean water, which is used for brushing teeth, washing dishes, and drinking," she said.
The heating system in the prison is unreliable, leaving inmates to endure near freezing temperatures, especially in the winter. Despite these conditions, prison authorities prevent families from providing extra clothing or necessary items for warmth.
Qarchak Prison, situated in a desert region, has long been described as a symbol of the systematic human rights violations within Iran's prison system.
In its report, the Iran Human Rights Organization recently condemned the facility as a “hell for women and children.” Originally a poultry farm, the prison has been converted into overcrowded wards that lack basic amenities, such as adequate ventilation, safe drinking water, and sufficient toilets.
Prisoners are forced to endure unsanitary conditions, with vermin including cockroaches, mice and even poisonous spiders inhabiting the cells.
The authorities’ failure to address these issues has prompted growing international concern.
Human rights organizations continue to call for accountability, urging the Iranian government to respect the basic rights of prisoners, particularly political detainees, who face disproportionate hardships in an already overburdened system.
The significance of the moment is hard to overstate: a young woman raising her voice in song in an open space just as greying men in closed rooms pass laws demanding women and girls like her live as they dictate or face punishment.
Politicians and philosophers in eras past clearly warned of the affront to society such brute measures represent.
Under Iran’s new hijab law, women and even teenage girls face heavy fines, travel bans, and ultimately imprisonment if they do not follow a strict, arbitrary dress code. A government that enacts such a law seeks to exert total control over its citizens. This is not a law about clothing; it is a tool for suppression of human dignity.
The scope of this law is unprecedented. Minors as young as nine years old can face fines or detention in juvenile facilities for noncompliance. Social media influencers, businesses and even parents of offenders are held accountable, creating a web of fear and enforcement.
Surveillance measures extend to digital spaces, requiring platforms to remove noncompliant content or face punitive actions. The aim is to crush dissent and—perhaps more disturbingly— to correct any ideological deviation.
The law evokes George Orwell’s dystopian novel 1984, where surveillance extends not only to actions but also to thoughts and identities. The legislation seeks to enforce not just outward compliance but inward conformity, leaving no room for personal freedom or dissent.
Control is imposed by surveillance and punishment, targeting families, businesses, and entire communities. Women who choose to wear attire deemed inappropriate by the state risk being charged with “corruption on earth,” a charge that can carry the death penalty.
Businesses, from local shops to online platforms, are fined or shut down if they fail to report or enforce compliance among employees and customers.
This flies in the face of societal changes in Iran. Young Iranians appear to be convinced more than ever that individuals are the best judges of their own lives. Having grown up under the Islamic Republic, they seem to know by instinct what the English philosopher John Stuart Mill said in On Liberty: that their freedom to make personal decisions must be protected unless it directly harms others.
The Hijab law, however, does the opposite—it strips away personal choice under the guise of moral guardianship, violating a core tenet of human dignity.
Laws are meant to protect freedoms, safeguard dignity and promote societal justice. A law that fails to uphold justice, as Henry David Thoreau would say, is not a law at all, but a tool of oppression. The Hijab law is that exactly, violating the dignity and autonomy of individuals.
The social consequences of this law are equally alarming. Hannah Arendt, in The Origins of Totalitarianism, warned of the dangers of laws designed to pit citizens against one another.
By mandating surveillance and encouraging individuals to report alleged violations within their communities, the Hijab law fosters mistrust and undermines social cohesion. This dynamic creates a society where neighbors become informants, and fear replaces solidarity.
Despite these oppressive measures, citizens are not powerless. Thoreau believed that resistance to unjust laws is a moral imperative.
Silence in the face of injustice, he argued, equates to complicity. The Hijab law, which flagrantly violates fundamental freedoms, calls for collective opposition. Defending the right to freedom of dress and personal choice is not merely an act of defiance but a stand for justice and human dignity.
In a society where women are jailed or executed for the simplest acts of autonomy, Parastoo’s voice resonated as a symbol of resistance, courage, and the irrepressible human spirit. Accompanied by male bandmates who stood in solidarity rather than domination, they showcased the power of collective defiance against tyranny.
This act of rebellion was a vivid reminder that even within the confines of authoritarianism, the spirit of freedom can shine, emboldening others to challenge unjust laws and envision a future where justice and dignity prevail.
The question for us Iranians and the global community is clear: will we stand idly by, or will we follow Parastoo—and many before her— to confront this affront to freedom and justice?
