On a glossy resort island in the Persian Gulf, the Islamic Republic tried to stage a feel-good sports event: a marathon on Kish, with 5,000 runners in matching red shirts, men and women in separate races. (source The Guardian)
Then the videos hit social media.
In the women’s race, you see something that should be completely normal and, in Iran, is still explosive: rows of women running with their hair uncovered. No hijab. No long manteau flapping around their knees. Just T-shirts, ponytails, sweat, and joy.
Within 24 hours, Iranian judicial authorities announced a criminal case and the arrest of two main organizers – one a Kish Free Zone official, the other from the private company that ran the race – for allowing unveiled women to compete and “violating public decency.” (source Kurdistan24)
If you want to understand Iran hijab in 2025 – not as a theory but as a weapon – this is the place to start.
What Is Iran Hijab and Why Did a Simple Marathon Become a Crime Scene?
Under laws imposed after the 1979 Islamic Revolution, all women in Iran must cover their hair and wear loose, modest clothing in public. The hijab is not a suggestion; it is written into the penal code, enforced by morality police, courts, fines, and sometimes prison and flogging. (source Aljazeera)
For decades, Iran hijab enforcement has been one of the regime’s clearest signals of control: if it can police women’s hair on the street, it can police anything.
So when more than 2,000 women run an officially sanctioned race on Kish and a visible number do so without hijab, it is not just a dress-code violation. It is a direct challenge to that control, captured in wide shots and drone footage, branded with the state’s own event logo.
That is why a marathon becomes a crime scene:
- The law still says hijab is mandatory.
- The cameras show women ignoring it in a state-approved event.
- The regime has to choose: accept the new reality or punish the people who let it be seen.
It chose punishment.
How Did Kish Island Turn from Regime Showcase into an Iran Hijab Battleground?
What Was Kish Island Supposed to Show the World About Iran?
Kish Island is the Islamic Republic’s postcard: a free-trade zone with malls, beachfront hotels, duty-free shops, and PR videos about “modern” Iran. For years, authorities have used Kish marathons and half-marathons to sell an image of a sporty, tourist-friendly country – but tightly within Iran hijab rules.
Women run fully covered, in long sports tunics and headscarves, in officially approved images.
The message to the outside world is:
“Look, women can run; we’re modern. But we still control how they look.”
Kish is supposed to be a safe stage where the regime can show “normal life” without losing control of the frame.
What Exactly Happened at the 2025 Kish Marathon with Iran Hijab Rules?
This time, the frame slipped.
Local media reports about 5,000 runners: 2,000 women and 3,000 men in separate races along the coastal road. (source France 24)
In videos filmed from the start line and along the course, you can clearly see:
- Red event T-shirts are on almost everyone.
- Many women are still wearing hijab.
- A visible number with uncovered hair – enough that in crowd shots, they are impossible to miss.
Conservative outlets like Tasnim and Fars immediately denounced the race as “indecent,” blaming local officials for failing to enforce Iran hijab. The judiciary’s Mizan site announced a criminal investigation, saying the event ignored “previous warnings” and was held in a way that “violated public decency.” (source The Guardian)
Twenty-four hours later, two main organizers were under arrest.
A beach marathon had just turned into a frontline of the Iran hijab war.
How Has Iran Hijab Changed Since Mahsa Amini and the Woman, Life, Freedom Protests?
How Did Mahsa Amini Turn Iran Hijab into a National Fault Line?
In September 2022, 22-year-old Mahsa (Jina) Amini was arrested in Tehran by morality police for allegedly “improperly” wearing a hijab. She died in custody three days later. (source Reuters)
Her death triggered the largest anti-regime protests in years:
- Demonstrations in more than 80 cities.
- At least 500 people were killed and thousands arrested, according to rights groups.
- The slogan “Woman, Life, Freedom” carried on banners from Tehran to Berlin.
From that moment, Iran hijab stopped being “just a dress code.” It became a symbol of the entire system – and of the demand to end it.
What Do the New Iran Hijab Crackdown Laws Look Like on Paper vs. on the Street?
Since the 2022 uprising, the regime has tried to re-tighten control over Iran hijab on two fronts. (source Humans Rights Watch)
On paper, hardline MPs push tougher bills and pro-hijab crowds in Tehran demand harsher enforcement. (source AP News)
On the street, especially in big cities, many women simply stop wearing hijab in daily life – on the metro, in cafés, in cars, now even in races. (source RFE/RL)
At the same time, enforcement is shifting to tech: drones, CCTV and apps like Nazer let authorities and informants flag “violations” by sending licence plates and locations straight to the police. (source Voice of America)
Together, these moves show a regime trying to claw back control over Iran hijab with laws, crowds and surveillance, while life on the ground is already moving on without it.
How Are Iranian Women Using Sport to Push Back Against Iran Hijab Control?
Why Does Running Without Hijab Matter So Much in the Islamic Republic?
Since the 2022 Woman, Life, Freedom uprising, Iranian authorities have tried to re-tighten control over compulsory veiling in two directions at once: on paper, the conservative-dominated parliament has pushed and passed new “hijab and chastity” laws that dramatically increase fines and prison terms for unveiled women and the businesses that serve them, while pro-hijab supporters have staged sit-ins outside parliament demanding harsher enforcement and accusing officials of letting standards slip. (source United Nations)
On the ground, especially in big cities, growing numbers of women simply go unveiled in daily life—on the metro, in cafés, in cars, on motorbikes and now even in mass events like the Kish Island marathon—creating what reporters describe as a transformed streetscape in Tehran and other urban centres despite the risks. (source AP News)
At the same time, enforcement is shifting to tech, with UN experts and rights groups documenting the use of drones, CCTV, facial-recognition systems and the state-backed Nazer reporting app, which lets police and informants send licence plates, locations and timestamps of alleged hijab violations directly to the authorities. (source NDTV)
Together, these moves show a regime trying to claw back control over Iran hijab with laws, crowds and digital surveillance, while life on the ground is already moving on without it.
What Other Cracks in Iran Hijab Enforcement Do We See in Sport and Stadiums?
Kish is not an isolated event. Across the last decade, cracks in Iran hijab enforcement have often shown up around sport: Women repeatedly push to enter football stadiums, despite bans and token partial lifts. (source Amnesty)
Athletes competing abroad without hijab or refusing to represent the Iranian flag, then facing pressure, bans or exile. (source Reuters)
Local sports gatherings where hijab rules are looser than on state TV, signalling how everyday life has drifted away from official ideology. (source Brock University)
Each of these moments exposes the same basic truth: the regime can no longer easily force Iran hijab onto every woman in every public space.
It can punish individuals – like the Kish organizers – but it can’t fully restore the fear it once relied on.
That’s why a women’s marathon becomes a political earthquake.
What Does Iran Hijab Have to Do with Gaza, Hamas, and “Free Gaza” Slogans?
How Is the Regime that Enforces Iran Hijab Also Funding Rockets and Proxies?
Here’s the connection most Western street protests never mention:
The same state that arrests marathon organizers over Iran hijab is one of the main financial, political, and military backers of armed groups from Gaza to Lebanon and Yemen.
- Hamas leaders openly thank Iran for decades of military and financial support in their war against Israel.
- Hezbollah in Lebanon receives weapons, training and funding from Tehran, and in turn trains other Iran-backed militias.
- Iranian-backed networks channel money, arms and know-how to these groups, while Iranian citizens bear the cost in sanctions, poverty and lost opportunities.
Inside Iran, people have understood this for years. In protests from 2009 to 2019 and beyond, crowds chanted:
“Neither Gaza, nor Lebanon – my life for Iran.”
It’s a slogan against the regime’s choice to pour billions into Hamas and Hezbollah while enforcing Iran hijab, jailing dissidents and letting the economy rot at home. (source IranWire)
When you look at Kish through that lens, the picture is simple: The system that invests in rockets and proxies abroad is the same one that drags women into police vans for how they dress and arrests people for how women run.
When Does Shouting “Free Gaza” Become Free PR for Iran Hijab Enforcers in Tehran?
Gaza deserves attention and Palestinian civilians matter – but the question is what happens when your slogans only tell half the story.
If you march under “Free Gaza” banners with Hamas flags, never name Tehran, Iran hijab or Iran’s role in arming Hamas, and share every image from Gaza while ignoring Iranian girls beaten or jailed for resisting hijab, you’re not just “for human rights” – you’re also, whether you mean to or not, doing PR for the same system that funds rockets, props up Hezbollah and arrests the Kish marathon organisers for letting women run as they are.
When Iranians chant “Neither Gaza, nor Lebanon – my life for Iran,” they’re not saying “forget Gaza,” but “stop using Gaza as an excuse to crush us and enforce Iran hijab at home.”
Real solidarity has to hold more than one injustice at once.
What Does Real Solidarity Look Like When You Include Iran Hijab in the Picture?
How Can We Name the System Behind Iran Hijab Without Ignoring Gaza’s Suffering?
Real solidarity in the Middle East doesn’t start with picking a flag; it starts with naming the system that harms people on multiple fronts.
In Gaza, Hamas has turned the strip into a militarised enclave with years of Iranian backing in weapons, training and funding, while Israeli air and ground operations since October 2023 have killed tens of thousands of civilians trapped in that reality. (source Washington Post)
In Iran, the same leadership in Tehran that nourishes Hamas and other “axis of resistance” groups executes people on a massive scale—Amnesty and UN data show an eight-year high of around 850 executions in 2023 and more than 900 in 2024—and uses compulsory hijab as a core tool of gender-based control over women and girls. (source RFE/RL)
You don’t have to choose between caring about bombed-out apartment blocks in Gaza and caring about women tracked by drones, CCTV and informant apps for alleged hijab violations in Tehran; they are different faces of the same political project that links domestic repression to proxy warfare abroad. (source Middle East Institute)
If your activism never names that project, you are leaving the roots untouched and shouting only at the branches.
What Are Iranians Themselves Saying About Iran Hijab, Gaza and Lebanon?
Listen to Iranians when they talk about Iran hijab and foreign wars: protesters chanting “Neither Gaza, nor Lebanon – my life for Iran” are rejecting the regime’s spending on Hamas and Hezbollah and demanding that those resources be used for people inside the country instead. (source Clingendael)
Women shout “Woman, Life, Freedom” not as a marketing slogan but as a direct challenge to compulsory hijab and the wider security system behind it, a movement that has spread from Kurdish cities to more than a hundred towns across Iran and reshaped daily life even under repression.
For many inside the country, the Kish marathon sits in that same story: ordinary people trying to run, sing, work and study while a regime uses religion, Iran hijab and “resistance” rhetoric to keep them in line. (source Iran International)
If you say you stand with the oppressed, you have to decide whether that includes the women in red T-shirts on Kish as much as the families under bombardment in Gaza.
How Does Iran Hijab Look at Human Scale, from Kish Runners to Missing Daughters?
What Are the Everyday Costs of Iran Hijab Enforcement for Families and Athletes?
News headlines talk about “dress code violations” and “public decency.” On the ground, Iran hijab enforcement looks like this:
- A 22-year-old woman dies in custody after a hijab arrest and her parents grieve under surveillance.
- Families receive threatening texts with exact times and locations where their daughters’ hijabs were “improper,” thanks to apps and camera networks.
- Singers, coaches, and athletes are arrested or forced into public “confessions” for appearing unveiled.
- Kish organizers sit in interrogation rooms because a handful of women ran 10 kilometres with their hair in ponytails.
These are not abstract “cultural norms.” They are choices, made daily, backed by batons, cameras, courts, and – if needed – executions.
When you zoom out, Kish is one dot in a larger pattern of fear: the regime believes that if Iran hijab slips, everything else will follow. So it treats a woman’s hair like a national security issue.
How Does Shadows of Tehran Help You Feel the System Behind the Iranian Hijab?
You can read reports and statistics; you should. But to really grasp a system like this, you have to feel how it works in everyday life.
That’s where the world of Shadows of Tehran comes in. Nick Berg’s novel lives in the same universe as the Kish runners and the “Neither Gaza, nor Lebanon” protesters: a universe where the IRGC and security services decide whose life matters, where Iran hijab is just one strand in a wider control grid, and where ordinary people have to build resilience out of trauma.
Missing family, exile, and the constant sense that a wrong shirt, song or tweet can change everything. If you’ve never had to calculate risk every time you step outside, fiction grounded in lived experience can take you closer than any op-ed.
Order Shadows of Tehran Here And Discover it yourself!
Iran Hijab and Kish Marathon FAQ: What Do People Ask Most?
Is Iran Hijab Still Mandatory in 2025?
Yes. On paper, Iran hijab is still mandatory for all women in public spaces. Laws passed after 1979 require women to cover their hair and wear loose clothing; violators face fines, court cases and, in some instances, prison or flogging.
What has changed is compliance: especially after Mahsa Amini’s death and the 2022–23 protests, many women in big cities simply don’t obey – and enforcement has become more selective and more technological.
What Happened to the Kish Marathon Organisers Over Hijab Rules?
Iran’s judiciary announced a criminal case against the organizers after videos showed unveiled women running. Two main organizers – an official from the Kish Free Zone and an employee of the private company that ran the race – have been arrested on warrants for “violating public decency” and failing to enforce hijab.
Their exact charges and potential sentences are still unfolding, but the arrests are clearly meant as a warning to other event planners: enforce Iran hijab, or you will pay.
Can Iranian Women Legally Run Without Hijab in Official Events?
In theory, no. Under Iran hijab law, any public event requires women to be covered. That’s why earlier Kish races and most official sports events show women in full Islamic sportswear, and some local organisers – are now willing to push those boundaries, even at serious personal risk.
Why Is Iran Hijab Enforcement Connected to Hamas and Gaza?
Because it’s the same political system. The Islamic Republic:
- uses Iran hijab and morality laws to control society at home;
- uses funding, training and weapons for Hamas, Hezbollah and others to project power abroad.
You cannot separate the “resistance axis” in Gaza and Lebanon from the women dragged into vans in Tehran. They are both products of the same regime priorities.
How Can I Support Iranian Women Resisting Iran Hijab Laws?
A few starting points:
- Listen and amplify: follow Iranian women journalists, activists and athletes in exile; share their reporting on Kish and Iran hijab crackdowns.
- Support credible rights groups documenting executions, arrests and hijab enforcement – Amnesty, regional NGOs, diaspora organisations.
- Be precise in your solidarity: if you speak about Gaza or Lebanon, include Tehran in the picture; don’t hand uncritical legitimacy to the system that arrests the Kish runners.
Support stories that tell the truth – from investigative blogs to books like Shadows of Tehran that make this world emotionally real.
In the End, Whose Side Are You On: Iran Hijab Enforcers or the Women Who Ran on Kish?
On one level, Kish was just a race: thousands of women and men in red shirts, running by the sea.
On another, it was a referendum.
Every uncovered head in that crowd said: we are done pretending this is 1979. Every arrest, drone, app and sermon screaming about “public decency” says the regime is not ready to let go.
When you chant, post, or stay silent, you are not neutral in that clash.
You can:
Stand with a system that funds rockets and prisons, that treats Iran hijab as more sacred than human life, that sees women’s hair as a security threat and a marathon as a battlefield.
Or you can:
Stand with the women who ran anyway. With the families who have lost daughters to hijab arrests. With the Iranians who shout “Neither Gaza, nor Lebanon – my life for Iran,” not because they don’t care about others, but because they are tired of being sacrificed to someone else’s “resistance.”
The Kish marathon didn’t just expose the state’s fear of women’s hair. It exposed the gap between slogans and reality – in Tehran, in Gaza, and in Western streets.
The next time you hear “Free Gaza” shouted without a word about Tehran, Hamas hostages, or Iran hijab, remember the women on Kish. Then decide whose project your voice is really supporting.
