Tahereh Noori, a 35-year-old housewife in Tehran, killed her husband over a decade ago. She and her two teenage daughters buried his body under the living room floor. Tahereh had been subjected to years of abuse by her husband, and all her attempts to obtain a divorce through Iran's family courts had been in vain. She felt there was no way out of her situation.
Tahereh's Story and Her Challenges
After hearing Tahereh's story, I found myself wondering what had happened over the years that led her to see killing her husband as her only means of escape. When my director colleague, Farzad Jafari, and I began making the film "Eye for an Eye" about Tahereh, she had spent 14 years in prison under the threat of execution. The qisas system in Iran allows her husband's family to request her execution or to forgive her in exchange for blood money. Her temporary release on bail provided an opportunity for negotiations regarding her future, while her now-adult children were trying to raise money to save their mother's life.
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The Power of Women in Civil Society
I expected to make a film about Tahereh's tragic story, but the process of making the film changed my understanding of the power of civil society in Iran. During our research, we met activists who dedicate their time and energy to helping those facing the death penalty. One of these activists was Farakhondeh Jaberzadegan, who worked alongside a group of volunteer women. These women, who were lawyers, social workers, activists, and ordinary citizens, had learned how to navigate a legal system that families often cannot confront alone.
Initially, I saw these activities as a practical response to a broken system, but over time, it became clear that these women had established a kind of informal infrastructure of care. They knew which doors might open and how to communicate with a grieving family. They were skillfully negotiating and trying to create conditions for clemency for Tahereh's husband's family in circumstances that could determine Tahereh's life or death.
These women were also tasked with listening to Tahereh herself. After 14 years in prison, she was clearly angry and felt she had been punished enough. Her children were desperately trying to prevent her execution. Tahereh often disagreed with the opinions and advice of those trying to help her and sometimes clashed with them. But these volunteers tirelessly worked with her and responded to her.
In making this film, I expected to confront the limitations of Iranian society and its religious legal system directly, but what surprised me was the extent of the impact that women had learned to make within these constraints. This impact was rarely dramatic and often manifested as a quiet persistence.
The work of these women helped me think differently about the concept of civil society in a country where formal institutions may not protect people from threats. They could not change the law or force Tahereh's husband's family to forgive her. But they could create possibilities within a system that seemed very limited. And this changed my perception of Iran.
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