“I Felt I Was Screaming Under the Water”: Domestic Violence Victims' Experiences in Iran's Police Departments and Criminal Courts

Abstract

This exploratory study, the first attempt at capturing the experiences of victims of DV with the criminal justice system in Iran, explores their plight in the absence of legislation that defines and criminalizes DV. Drawing on 15 in-depth interviews with Iranian women who turned to police departments and courts, we demonstrate the flaws inherent in Iran's judiciary and law enforcement organizations, suggesting they reinforce the integrity of the family as a patriarchal unit through readings of religious commands, stabilize the boundary between public and private, and dissuade women from claiming their rights. We provide suggestions for future research for reform, given the growing influence of feminist movements toward gender equality.

Keywords

domestic violence gendered organizations judge police officer Iran

Similar to the U.S. and Canada (Alhabib et al., 2010; Garcia-Moreno et al., 2006), data from the Women's Centre for Presidential Advisory, the Interior Ministry and the Ministry of Higher Education in Iran¹ suggest that domestic violence (DV)² is a serious and prevalent phenomenon in Iranian society (Amnesty International [AI], 2018; Faramarzi et al., 2005; Ghazi Tabatabaei et al., as cited in Aghtaie, 2016). Yet, a lack of comprehensive legislation that defines and criminalizes DV has left Iranian women more vulnerable to violence and abuse (Human Rights Watch [HRW], 2020). The “Protection, Dignity and Security of Women Against Violence” bill, approved in January 2021 (“Iran Approves Bill,” 2021), for the first time defines and criminalizes different types of violence against women,³ but the bill fails to define DV or criminalize certain types of gender-based violence, such as marital rape (Mizan News Agency, 2019).⁴

Although Iranian scholars have studied women's perception of DV (Aghtaie, 2016), causes of DV (Faramarzi et al., 2005; Ghazizadeh, 2005; Pournaghash-Tehrani, 2011), barriers women face in leaving abusive husbands (Taherkhani et al., 2019), the impact of the orthodox structure of family and marriage on DV, and the role of law, specifically the legal concept of tamkin (submission) in perpetuating DV (Tizro, 2013), there is little understanding of the critical role that judicial behavior and the gendered structure of the police and the judiciary play in legitimizing and perpetuating violence against women.

Employing gender as an analytical lens, this study explores the experiences of survivors of DV in Iran's police departments and criminal courts. A systematic review of the literature on help-seeking behavior of women in Muslim and non-Muslim countries reveals that the structural and institutional barriers faced by victims of DV in Muslim-majority countries, such as Iran, have not been fully explored by previous research (Afrouz et al., 2020). The current exploratory study uses 15 in-depth interviews with Iranian women about their experiences with police officers, judges, or both, after reporting DV, and makes three substantial contributions to the literature by describing how judges and police officers rationalize the injurious experiences of victims of DV as inevitable parts of women's lives, deter them from turning to courts in the future, and promote male domination through privileging the authority of men within marriage. Moreover, this study advances gender theory by bringing its analytical lens to the understudied case of domestic violence in Iran as one of 50 countries that does not yet have specific laws on domestic violence.

This article begins by providing an overview of the national context of DV in Iran. We then discuss the literature on gendered experiences of survivors of DV in criminal justice systems in countries such as the U.S., Canada, and Egypt, to outline the absence of research focusing on DV in Iran. After describing the methodology, we discuss the findings that suggest these gendered institutions reinforce the integrity of the family as a patriarchal unit through readings of religious commands, stabilize the boundary between public and private, and promote male domination by dissuading women from claiming their rights. We provide suggestions for future research for reform, given the growing influence of feminist movements toward gender equality.

Iran's National Context

In Iran, the family is “the fundamental unit of Islamic society” (Constitution of The Islamic Republic of Iran, Art. 10) and gender determines one's position and roles in the family. The Middle Eastern family is a “patriarchal unit” that ensures the superiority of men, and family laws, which are rooted in fiqhi norms,⁵ have been used as tools for upholding patriarchal gender dynamics and women's oppression (Moghadam, 2003, p. 113). In this Islamic-Iranian context, men are perceived to be the head of the household and the wife's submission to the husband and tolerance of potential violence for the sake of protecting the family are valued and perceived as her duties (Garrusi et al., 2008). The wife's submissiveness to her husband is not merely a cultural value; it is codified into Article 1108 of the Iran's Civil Code. Legal scholars argue that tamkin (submission) operates at two levels: general and specific. While specific tamkin deals with sexual submissiveness of the wife, general tamkin requires the wife to submit to legally and customarily accepted requests of her husband with regard to family matters and interests (Emaami & Safaei, 2001). Any failure on the wife's part can lead to the termination of her right to receive alimony. Thus, if the wife fails to fulfil her duties by leaving her husband against his will, she will be considered nashezeh (disobedient). The law allows the husband to file an adam-e-tamkin (non-submission) case and request a judge to authorize the termination of the wife's entitlement to alimony (maintenance rights) (Civil Code of Iran Art. 1108). To receive her maintenance rights, a judge can order the wife to go back to her husband, unless she can prove that she faces serious physical harm and threats to her life and personal safety. This risk is often hard to prove. The husband might invoke his wife's non-submission to justify his abusive and violent behaviors (Tizro, 2013).

The Islamic Penal Code of Iran (2013) does not specifically define or criminalize DV (Art. 450) and the right of a husband to beat, harass, or abuse his wife is not explicitly recognized in the law. However, it has been argued that the state's laws, policies, and culture, in general, enforce and reinforce the assumption that men's use of some degree of violence is normal in everyday life. Kar (2001) argues that the Cultural Revolution of 1980 legitimized violence against women in the public sphere through slogans that provoked violence against women who did not follow the mandatory dress codes, the hijab. The logic of men's domination that legitimizes violence against women in the public sphere also works to normalize oppression of women in private life2020 2] (Aghtaie, 2015). While discriminatory laws and practices have been rationalized and authorized by invoking shari'a, Islamic feminists attribute such discrimination to patriarchal interpretations and implementations of shari'a (Mir-Hosseini, 2009; Moghadam, 2002).

In the absence of a comprehensive law that addresses DV, the Iranian women's rights movement called for the criminalization of DV and for legal protection of victims long ago. In 2017, the Vice Presidency for Women and Family Affairs (VP-WFA), an organization related to Presidential affairs, with minimal involvement from women's rights activists and lawyers, completed a bill on women's protection from abuse and the criminalization of DV and submitted it to the judiciary (Ghavvami, 2017).⁶ According to a legal advisor to the legal director of the Vice President for Women and Family Affairs, due to an overlap between the bill and the Code of Criminal Procedure as well as the Penal Code, the reviewing committee removed 40 out of 91 articles of the bill before sending it to the head of the judiciary for final approval (Karimi Majd, 2019; “The Reasons of Removing,” 2018). However, Shima Ghoosheh, a women's rights activist and lawyer who was consulted by the government, stated that some of the innovative provisions, such as the ones that criminalized different types of violence or required providing support to witnesses, were also removed from the bill (Hamedi, 2019).

Following the bill of “Protection, Dignity and Security of Women Against Violence” proposed by the VP-WFA, conservative officials and representatives argued that the bill could threaten the integrity of the family and “[r]esult in homes where women would flee their responsibilities and would destabilize a man's status as head of the family” (Karimi Majd, 2019). Similarly, the Cultural Deputy of the judiciary asserted that the bill might not strengthen the family environment as intended and might only add superficial protections for women; in addition, it was unclear whether severe punishment or long-term imprisonment would ultimately strengthen the institution of the family (Karimi Majd, 2019). That being said, the bill was resubmitted to the president's cabinet in 2019 and was approved by the Council of Ministers in January 2021, after a decade of controversies and debates over its provisions. The bill still must be reviewed and approved by a conservative-dominated parliament and then sent to the Guardian Council of jurists and religious experts⁷ for final approval. Although some women's rights activists and legal experts argue that the bill was adapted to incorporate the perspective of the judiciary with regard to violence against women, they believe that the bill is a positive move toward ensuring women's rights (Fassihi, 2021; HRW, 2020).

In the absence of adequate legal protections, in 2001, the first program providing welfare services was made available to DV victims by the State Welfare Organization (SWO) (“More Shelters,” 2017; “22 Safe Houses,” 2017). Despite the widespread belief that housing victims of domestic violence in shelters would destabilize families, currently seven governmental and 17 private safe-houses offer refuge to victims of domestic violence, and some offer legal consultations and reconciliation focused on family therapy (“More Shelters,” 2017; “22 Safe Houses,” 2017). However, there has not been enough publicity around such facilities; some believe women's awareness about these services would encourage them to leave their abusive relationships regardless of the severity of violence that they experience (Afrouz et al., 2020).

In sum, from the perspective of Iran's officials, the proposed laws against DV would not be a deterrent and would instead be a vehicle through which a woman could challenge the dominance of her husband. From this perspective, it is not men using violence against women that undermines families but rather women seeking legal protection from abuse. This perspective is similar to that of U.S. legislatures and courts prior to the twentieth century (Buzawa & Buzawa, 2017).

The lack of legal protection is further reinforced by the gender breakdown of occupational status in the judiciary and law enforcement in Iran. Although women are appointed as investigating judges and as assistant judges in special civil courts, they cannot issue final verdicts (Mojab, 2001). All presiding judges are men, as are most court clerks and other administrative staff positions.⁸ Similarly, law enforcement is dominated by men; women are employed as police officers but relegated to dealing with crimes committed by women (Recruitment Law of Police Force of the Islamic Republic of Iran, Art. 20). Since male judges and police officers hold positions of power and are the main official actors with whom victims of DV interact during the help-seeking process, it is crucial to examine how the gendered structure of criminal courts and police stations provides a context for the study participants' experiences.

Literature Review

As comparable research is not available from Iran, the literature review anchors women's experience with the CJS with work from Canada and the U.S. and a few scholarly pieces from several Muslim countries. The review reveals the similarities of victims' behaviors and responses to police officers, judges, and other court personnel in DV cases. Women who report DV to the CJS confront mistreatment at almost every step. From the outset, some police officers not only disregard victims' reports, but they also joke about women's circumstances and dissuade women from proceeding with prosecution (Erez & Belknap, 1998; Sagot, 2005; Stephens & Sinden, 2000; Wan, 2000). After overcoming numerous hurdles and hardships in persuading law enforcement and prosecutors to recognize DV as a legal problem, woman also face negative treatment from judges. While these obstacles are firmly in place in Iran, the absence of a law that criminalizes DV, which leaves room for discretionary decisions by judges in hearing and deciding these cases as well as patriarchal interpretations of shari'a, or judges' reliance on orthodox jurisprudence (Tizro, 2013), exacerbates the vulnerabilities of victims of DV who pursue justice.

In the U.S., Egypt, and Pakistan, some judges defend men using the logic of a public and private boundary, arguing that men have control over the private sphere and the court is not authorized to interfere with men's authority over the domestic sphere (Ammar, 2006, Crites & Hepperle, 1987; Crocker, 2005; Niaz, 2003). At the same time, however, as judges endorse and encourage male authority over women, they also expect women to successfully manage the dynamics of intimate relationships and condemn women if they fail to do so (Garcia & McManimon, 2012; Tizro, 2013). This reflects the broader public discourse that constructs DV victims (women) as more responsible than DV perpetrators (men), constructions that directly lead to how victims of DV are treated as blameworthy (Loseke & Kurz, 2005).

Iran is not the only country where the judiciary has tried to save the family at the expense of DV victims (Tizro, 2013). In the U.S., judges place the nuclear family on a pedestal by minimizing or normalizing claims of DV (Epstein & Goodman, 2019; Goodmark, 2013; Meier, 2002; Naughton, et al., 2015). Judges also question the credibility of victims' claims on the basis of extralegal factors such as the personality of the batterer and his victim (Meier, 2002). While the “smooth and charming” appearance of batterers can have a positive influence on judges (Meier, 2002, p. 690), an “improper” emotion or an apparently “absent” emotion in battered women might be used to discredit their credibility in the court (Garcia & McManimon, 2012). Such findings are consistent with research in Egypt (Ammar, 2000, 2006), Pakistan (Andersson et al., 2010) and Turkey (Gölge et al., 2016) that found that victims of DV encounter judges whose gendered beliefs hinder their ability to recognize the injurious experiences of women.

Building on this recent body of work and by evaluating the narratives of survivors of domestic violence who engaged with courts and police, the present study fills in a gap in the literature with regard to the role of Iran's judiciary and law enforcement in perpetuating and reinforcing domestic violence against women.

Theoretical Framework

The theory of gendered organizations provides a framework for understanding how, in the context of DV, patriarchy operates at structural, organizational, and individual levels. Structurally, institutions evolved from a patriarchal ordering of society and are highly masculinized (Nichols, 2013). Feminist scholars argue that the state is a gendered institution reflecting and reproducing a patriarchal social order and inequality between men and women through its institutions (Brown, 1992). Ultimately, institutional decisions are a reflection of the broader societal context and public opinion, paving the way for institutions to enforce gendered-based practices, thereby reinforcing women's inferiority, passivity, and vulnerability (MacKinnon, 1987).

At the organizational/institutional level, although institutions might adopt gender-neutral policies or turn a blind eye to gender dynamics, policies and practices of organizations still reinforce gender inequality (Acker, 1990). These policies might stem from assumptions that favor gender inequality (Acker, 1992) such that they create hierarchical organizations by which the masculine is reproduced as advantaged and superior and the feminine is reproduced as disadvantaged and inferior (Acker, 1990; MacKinnon, 1987). The gendered logic of organizations shapes the gendered processes of organizations, which have impacts on those who work with and are served by the organizations (Acker, 1990; Nichols, 2011). Here, individual agency and behavior notably occur within an organizational framework, such as organizational rules and culture that are shaped by gender.

At the micro-level generally and within organizations, individuals interact to reproduce, reinforce, and maintain an organization's gendered structure (Acker, 1990, 1992). Britton (1977) maintained that individuals “bring their own identities, interests, and desires to organizations, and gender shapes all of these in powerful ways” (p. 15). Employees, therefore, “do gender,” meaning that they reconstruct common gendered assumptions and socially accepted gender norms through evaluating their own and others' compliance with these reconstructions (Britton, 2003; Goffman, 1977; West & Zimmerman, 1987).

In the context of the judicial system and law enforcement, gender beliefs infuse individual-level interactions and processes of the system and shape “gendered justice.” While existing laws in a society might be gender-neutral, since the dominant members of any given society necessarily hold dominant cultural beliefs of the society (Garcia & McManimon, 2012, p. 6), gender beliefs are sustained and perpetuated through practices of judicial actors. As such, patriarchal beliefs, which are shaped at the intersection of gender, tradition, culture, and religion and are embeded in Iranian society, permeate police departments, courts, and those who work within those organizations. Thus, in the context of DV in Iran, “gendered justice” is the outcome of the adherence of the male-dominated judiciary and law enforcement to patriarchal beliefs, which requires maintaining the dominant hierarchical structure and the traditional order of the family, thereby protecting the domination and authority of men and the oppression of women in public and private.

Method

This study arose from the lead author's experience of practicing family law in Iran for ten years and observing the challenges women face in pursuing their rights. This familiarity with the field alongside conducting research as a student in American academia shaped the in-between position of the lead author as an insider/outsider. While familiarity and empathy facilitated developing rapport with DV victims/survivors and allowed participants to share the details of the abuse as well as their interactions with judicial actors, the high level of skepticism toward outsiders, such as researchers who conduct research from the U.S. (Malekzadeh, 2016), was a barrier to the recruitment of members of this hard-to-reach group. Recent socio-political tensions between Iran and the U.S have intensified such skepticism.

Data collection took place from March to July 2019. Given the remote location of the research,⁹ nonprobability sampling was used (Shaghaghi et al., 2011) and participants were recruited through different techniques to ensure the diversity of the sample across education, SES, and geographic region (urban and rural). Recruitment originated from the researcher's personal networks and was expanded through snowball sampling techniques. Through the medium of lawyers as third parties, the recruitment flyer was shared with eligible clients in Iran. To enroll more participants, women who consented to participate were asked to share the flyer with other women who were eligible to participate in the study. Finally, the recruitment flyer was posted on social media, including Instagram and Telegram's chat groups that allow members to ask legal questions which are answered by lawyers.¹⁰ This exploratory study is the first attempt at capturing the experiences of victims of DV with police officers and judges in Iran. Thus, “the personal bias and distortion inherent in snowball sampling [is] a price which must be paid in order to gain an understanding of […] hidden populations and their particular circumstances…” (Faugier & Sargeant, 1997, p. 796).

The sample included 15 women who were involved in filing and pursuing petitions against their husbands. Participants ranged in age from 21 to 54 years, with an average age of 39. The earliest petition was filed 14 years prior to the interview while the most recent petition was filed nine months prior to the interview. Participants were not homogenous with regard to socio-economic background.¹¹ Nine participants were living in two of the biggest cities of Iran; five of them were living in two small cities; and one was living in the U.S., but she had experienced abuse when she was in Iran, with fear of continued abuse fueling her immigration. Almost 50% of participants did not have a college degree; the other half had a Bachelor's degree or higher. Seven women indicated that they did not have a college education, four had received a BA, three had completed a Master's, and one of the participants is currently a Ph.D. student.¹² To ensure respondents' confidentiality, we use pseudonyms throughout this article.

A number of potential participants withdrew from participation as they were concerned about being harassed by the government for cooperating with a researcher who resides in the U.S. This concern, to some extent, stems from the tendency of “a gender repressive state” to politicize issues related to women's rights,¹³ to securitize any critical research that is not consistent with the dominant ideology of the state with regard to gender and women's rights, and to accuse researchers, who have affiliation with foreign institutions, including Western academia, of spying for foreign states¹⁴ (Rezai-Rashti, 2013; Rivetti & Saeidi, 2018).

Data were collected utilizing a semi-structured interview guide which posed 27 open-ended questions that allowed for probing and provided a platform for women to share their insights regarding the practices of police officers and judges in dealing with DV cases. Interviews were conducted in Farsi through WhatsApp audio calls. The length of the interviews ranged from approximately 1 h to 3 h; all but one was audiotaped, and handwritten notes were taken during each interview.

All recordings were transcribed verbatim and entered into NVivo 12 for coding and analysis. Congruent with feminist methodology (Allen, 2011), constructivist grounded theory inductive coding techniques were used (Charmaz, 2006). A coding scheme was developed through open coding of transcripts to identify meanings and assumptions within the data to look for relationships between categories (Charmaz, 2006). Following a constant comparison between codes, focused coding was used to cluster similar codes together and to identify emerging concepts (Charmaz, 2006). Theoretical saturation was identified when no new themes, no new data, and no new coding related to the research questions emerged (Guest et al., 2006). Once the coding was completed, the codes and selected quotes were translated into English.

Findings

Research participants experienced diverse forms of aggression by a partner/spouse, generally a combination of physical, psychological, and sexual violence. Physical abuse was the most common type of violence experienced by the participants, and all of them suffered physical violence more than once. Kicking, pushing, hitting a woman's s head against the floor, and pulling her hair were frequent forms of physical violence. Choking and attacking with a knife put five women at risk of dying. Of the fifteen women, four participants left their abusive husbands after four years; the others suffered violence for at least ten years and then left.

Except for one participant, each woman hesitated to seek help and to report the abusive behaviors of their husbands. Participants' accounts revealed that because of a lack of legal knowledge and adherence to cultural norms that expect women to make sacrifices for their family, they did not use the language of rights to address abusive behaviors of their husbands when they first experienced violence. Previous studies on coping mechanisms that were adopted by Iranian victims of DV found that cultural considerations, a lack of social and financial support, the fear of divorce, and being blamed for causing more tensions in the family inform women's decisions to tolerate violence (Bahrami et al., 2016; Sadeghi Fasaei, 2009). Women decided to mobilize the system as the violence became intolerable and they feared for the well-being and safety of their children and themselves, particularly if they had no other male family members to support them. All women thought they could use criminal charges to punish their husband, to deter abuse, or as “leverage for getting a divorce.” While all women desperately needed support, they faced police officers and judges who failed to show compassion or sympathy.

Four major themes emerged from the qualitative coding of participants' descriptions of their experiences with judges and police officers: (1) Gendered processes in a public gendered space; (2) Adherence to family and victim blaming; (3) Minimization, legitimization, and normalization of violence; and (4) Discrediting women's accounts. Participants' interactions with the CJS and law enforcement had a significant impact on women's sense of justice.

Gendered Processes in a Public Gendered Space

The most common statement among the interview participants was that they felt police officers and judges attempted to dissuade them from filing a case by warning them of the ineffectiveness of the legal process or the inappropriateness of women's presence in public spaces. Interview participants spoke of police officers dissuading victims by describing the judicial process as “long-lasting,” underscoring the inefficiency of judicial proceedings, and presenting the court environment as “unsafe” or “inappropriate” for women. Interview participants indicated that both police officers and judges discouraged them from exercising their rights to seek redress and protection through law. Moreover, compatible with the patriarchal gender-based organization model, interview participants pointed to how judges and police officers disregarded their expressed agency and intention and considered them passive and vulnerable (Nichols, 2011). This model reproduces the power hierarchy by degrading women and overlooking their needs and demands. Below are specific examples of experiences described by some interview participants that speak to this theme.

“You’re So Naïve.”

Tara, 41, a Ph.D. student, lived with her abusive partner for 13 years. Tara rarely experienced physical violence and mostly suffered from sexual abuse and verbal violence:

You know I was 100% obedient. Physical violence and beating began after I decided to get a divorce and refused to say “yes” to whatever he wanted. I think you become fully submissive when you're terrified of violence. When you're obedient, verbal violence is enough for making a point.

Tara turned to the police after an incident in which her husband put a knife to her chin and cut it when she tried to release herself. When Tara told the police officer that she wanted to get a divorce, he stated, “There is nothing out there [waiting for you] and you will have to become a prostitute to satisfy your financial needs.” The police officer added that the judge would reject the case and Tara, who was worried about her husband's reaction, did not file a petition. Tara's response revealed that when women fear their husbands' retaliation, official dissuasion rather than assistance might return them to the vicious cycle of abuse.

In contrast, Nastaran, who had been married for 12 years, decided to file a case despite warnings from a police officer. The officer had told Nastaran that she was so “naive” and did not know “how offensive judges will treat” her and she had to wear “a pair of iron shoes” if she wanted to pursue a case in the criminal court. Unlike Tara, Nastaran had no fear of her husband and emphasized that pursuing the petition would enable her to at least assert her rights:

I had no fear of my husband, police officers, or judges. If the worst were to happen, I thought they would arrest me. … But I have a right, and if they don't give it to me, at least I can demand it and talk about it…

These examples illustrate that discouraging statements of police officers were more effective when women were in fear of their abusers.

Judges invoked similar strategies to discourage women from pursuing their cases. Nazanin, 25, left her abusive marriage after four years. She attended most of the hearings with her father. A judge told her father that he should not let her to go to court alone because the court was not a safe place for women, and it was “morally inappropriate” for a woman to attend the court alone. Although comments like this rarely dissuaded women like Nazanin from pursuing their petitions, Nazanin stated that she was fearful whenever she had to go to the court alone. Making women feel uncomfortable and afraid of going to the court was echoed by Mahsa, 38, who was married for 11 years and experienced severe physical and sexual abuse:

God knows how anxious I was every time I had to go to court because the judge was a very bad-tempered… The judge never did anything to my husband when he interrupted me. But he shouted at me every time even if I said only one word when my husband was talking. …

Rather than empowering and protecting women to pursue their claims through the legal system, police officers and judges operate as gatekeepers discouraging women from seeking redress in the public sphere (Kerstetter & Van Winkle, 1990). Police officers and judges reinforce the notion of women's vulnerability and highlight stereotypes of women as weak, fearful, and at risk in a public space. Though police officers and judges claim to be protecting women from the harm they might experience from strangers in the public domain, these officials make no efforts to ensure women's safety from their spouses in the private sphere. In other words, judicial agents are reluctant to intervene in the private sphere, which, according to Decker (2006), is recognized as men's domain. Consistent with Ieda’s (1986) findings, Iranian judges and police officers do not see the violence itself as violating norms as much as seeking intervention from an outsider does. Judges and police officers are situated in a culture that tends to consider family matters, such as violence, as private issues which need to be kept and resolved within the family. Since protecting the family from instability is a fundamental principle, the interests of the family often supersede the interests of women.

Adherence to the Family Structure and Victim Blaming

Almost all of the participants mentioned that police officers and judges considered violence an “incidental” fact of family life and blamed women for bringing a private issue to public scrutiny. Women are warned not to bring “trivial” and “solvable” private issues to courts and are chastised for not being able to take care of their marriages or families; officers and judges told some of the participants that a “good wife” should be “kind” and “reconcilable.” This is supported in the literature that shows that judges maintain that DV is a private issue, view it as against gender norms for women to step outside of their place in the private sphere, and consider that men should have ultimate control over women inside and outside of the home (Ammar, 2006; Niaz, 2003). Consistent with the literature, judges also argue that since DV is a family issue, and men are in charge of women, that the health of the relationship rests on women (Garcia & McManimon, 2012; Tizro, 2013). Women's experiences that speak to this theme are outlined below.

“It's a Family Issue, Try to Work It Out.”

Nazi, 50, was married for 19 years. When she filed a petition, the chief of a police station told her:

This is a family issue and you should forgive your husband. Think about how traumatic a divorce would be for your daughter [as a child of divorce] when she wants to get married. No one might ever propose to her because of [this] divorce.

This police officer made Nazi feel guilty for filing a petition against her husband and used her identity as a mother against her. In Tara's case, the police officer described characteristics of a good wife. He told Tara that her husband had made a mistake just this one time by beating Tara and “a wife has to be a woman” and should not let her husband behave like this. The officer suggested Tara think about what she had done wrong to cause her husband's behavior. This echoes Tizro (2013), whose work revealed that judges' opinions of DV were that women provoke the abuse and that a woman is responsible for the behavior of her husband.

Sara, 43, was in an abusive relationship for 13 years and experienced severe physical and sexual abuse. Her husband was addicted to methamphetamines and forced Sara to work and pay for his drug expenses. A judge told Sara that she needed to take care of her addicted husband who “has not experienced kindness and needs someone to be nice to him.” Sara recalled her conversation with the judge after her husband kissed her feet in front of him:

The judge told me that I should try to find out what I have withheld from my husband. I told him that I had done everything for my husband, and I wish all women were as supportive of one another as men. … I didn't know anything about the law, but the judge should have treated my husband more firmly rather than giving him some clues about the law!

When Sara objected to the judge's comment, the judge threatened to arrest her for offending an official figure.

These examples illustrate that judicial and law enforcement agents reversed the status of victim and offender by reinforcing gender roles and criticizing women for their lack of attention to their intimate relationship and their husband's well-being. Rather than blaming men and stressing that women do not deserve abuse, judges and officers deflected the responsibility for violence from offenders to victims and held women responsible for their suffering. Like judges in the U.S. (Epstein, 1999, p. 43) and Latin America (Sagot, 2005), Iranian police officers and judges asked women to reconcile with their husband and pushed them to “kiss and make up” in order to maintain the institution of the family.

Minimization, Legitimization, and Normalization of Violence

Rather than empathizing with women, officers and judges trivialized women's hardship and presented it as normal. Like the Canadian police officers in Hannah-Moffat’s study (1995), some Iranian police officers and judges did not consider DV a legal problem. Study participants stated that police officers who were supposed to arrest their husbands “joked around with” the husbands. In some instances, police officers humiliated women and made DV seem less severe than other crimes. Judges' and police officers' statements that minimized, normalized, or legitimized DV situations had a long-lasting impact on the study participants and they repeated those disdainful comments several times during the interview, even when the comments had occurred years earlier.

“There Is No Problem with Beating a Wife.”

Mahsa described the police officer's treatment of her as traumatizing and disrespectful:

The officer sneered at me and told me that he pushed his wife last night and she hit the door. He asked me whether his wife should have come [to the police station] and filed a petition against her husband? Then they all laughed at me.

In this case, not only the disrespectful treatment of the officer was disheartening, but it also presented violence as a normal part of life that should be dealt with in the private sphere.

After 12 years of enduring serious physical and psychological violence, Mina felt she “couldn't physically and mentally take it anymore.” She filed a complaint, but her husband's family persuaded her to withdraw it. She said:

I withdrew my complaint and went back to my husband. But he continued violence. I couldn't take it any longer. I had self-esteem and could no longer tolerate his aggressive, insulting, and offensive behaviors. I attempted suicide because I had no one to support me [she burst into tears].

Mina filed a complaint for a second time. After hearing the testimony of Mina's father and brother about her husband's violent behavior, the judge said: “Marital life has ups and downs and there is no problem with beating a wife.” In this case, the judge explicitly legitimized violence by presenting it as an integral part of marital life and affirmed that Mina did not have a right to have a nonviolent life.

Nastaran described an incident in which her husband broke her cheekbone, so she went to a police station to file a complaint. Since it was midnight, the police officer refused to submit the complaint and told her that the officer who worked the night shift was not around. She returned the next morning and realized that the same police officer had to submit the complaint. Nastaran started yelling and cursing at him and the officer said: “Maybe your husband beats you up because of these behaviors. You’re dishonoring your husband.” The officer's response not only implies that Nastaran's behaviors precipitate violence, but it also legitimizes violence when women do not fulfill gender roles and expectations such as obedience and passivity, as identified by Mackinnon (1987).

While the judicial actors invoked different strategies to reinforce the belief that DV is a normal and trivial behavior, none of the participants downplayed the seriousness of their injurious experiences because of what they heard from judges and police officers. Since all but three participants tolerated abuse for at least ten years, by the time they decided to report abusive behaviors, they were determined to leave the abusive relationship for the sake of their children and/or their own mental and physical health. Thus, contrary to the findings of previous studies (Kelly & Radford, 1996), statements from judges and police officers did not modify or change women's understanding of the violence they experienced. This determination can be attributed to Iranian women's move toward growing consciousness of their rights.

Judges and police officers blamed and revictimized women while simultaneously failing to force men to recognize the abusive nature of their actions. Except for Nasim's case, in which a judge blamed her husband after he confessed to stabbing his wife, participants stated that judges barely chastised men for their abusive behaviors. Instead of holding men responsible for or making any explicit statement about men's violent behaviors, judges and police officers legitimized and normalized DV and discredited women's claims. This approach sends a signal to men that society justifies their abusive behaviors and that husbands enjoy impunity no matter how violently they behave toward their wives.

Discrediting Women's Accounts

Another common experience of women was encountering judges and police officers who did not believe their accounts. Judges expressed disbelief by verbally challenging women's explanations and approving men's versions of events. Victims were more likely to be disbelieved if they did not have a forensic medical report, which is provided by Forensic (Legal) Medicine Center(s) and is the only valid and admissible medical evidence in domestic violence cases, or had a witness who was a family member. Although the law states that “Where the relevant evidence does not meet the requirements provided in law and shari’a, they can be used as judicial signs [hearsay evidence] provided that, together with other circumstantial and hearsay evidence, they result in the knowledge of the judge” (Iran. Penal Code. Art. 162), participants' experiences indicate that judges are reluctant to use their knowledge and discretionary power in assessing evidence in favor of women and use a variety of strategies to undermine women's claims about abuse and to sustain husbands' authority over their wives, even when such decisions caused profound hardships for women.

“Are You Sure That She Did Not Hit Herself?”

Judges questioned the credibility of women's claims if they could not find a witness outside of their close family circle. Because in criminal petitions the burden of proof is on the complainant, judges assumed that the alleged abuser was innocent until the victim proved her claim. Since the Penal Code does not specifically criminalize DV, victims are expected to provide evidence that any victim of battery and assault would have to secure.¹⁵ In other words, judges fail to consider the difference between abuse that happens in public space versus abuse by a husband inside the house.

Mahsa was especially upset that the judge disregarded all she had said:

I told the judge that he [my husband] hits me and the judge asked for documents. My husband immediately repeated what the judge had said and added “she is lying! I’ve never beaten her up!” And the judge believed him! I felt I was screaming under the water [and the judge didn't hear me].

Mahsa had once withdrawn her petition due to her husband's threat and when she filed a petition for the second time, the judge did not consider the forensic report she had attached to the first petition. In another case, in spite of Mina's brother and father testifying on how she experienced multiple incidents of abuse, the judge asked them whether they were sure that Mina was beaten up by her husband because sometimes even “eyes make a mistake.” The judge rejected Mina's case for lack of evidence. According to Samira, 25, who lived with her addicted and abusive husband for four years, despite having a forensic report, the judge said: “You have to bring two male witnesses. If you don't introduce your witnesses, how can I make sure that you have not beaten yourself up?” Samira could not introduce any witness because her husband had broken her rib at 3:00 a.m.

Judges questioned the credibility of women's accounts if their husbands had high social prestige. Arina, married for 21 years, said:

The judge asked me skeptically, how might a famous and well-known figure beat his wife? I asked him if he thinks I'm lying, and I had hit myself! I felt very offended and so I brought my son to the court the next day as a witness. How could I have possibly punched myself in the eye?

The judge assumed that high social status constrained violent behaviors, and he would not believe Arina's claim. Although Arina had a forensic report, the judge asked her to bring her witnesses to the court. Judges discredited women's claims if they stayed in abusive relationships for a long time. For instance, the judge questioned the credibility of Nastaran's claim by asking her why she had not filed a petition over the past 12 years if in fact she had been beaten up by her husband.

The Effects of Gendered Institutions

In summary, the findings suggest that women's interactions with police officers and judges changed their perceptions of the legal system and the law. Before reporting violent incidents to police and submitting their petitions, almost all research participants expected the legal system to protect them, although some of them had heard that the “judicial system does not value women.”

When asked about their changed perceptions, all the women expressed cynicism about the judicial system and family law, describing them as “pro-men.” Mahsa said, “Our state is patriarchal. So, courts are patriarchal, too.” Lida, married for six years, believed that “high-ranked police officers” do not consider women as human beings and that “they feel offended when women pursue their rights.” Tara asserted:

We need to have a sign at the entrance of all courthouses indicating women are human beings. When you file a petition, you understand you're nothing more than men's property.

Tanya, who did not suffer as much as others during her criminal proceeding, maintained that she could not imagine going through the painful legal process one more time, since it seems designed to serve men's interests and belittle women. Although she is experiencing abuse in her second marriage, she emphasized that she will not turn to the court for help. Iranian women's reflections on the gendered nature of the legal system are compatible with criticisms raised by feminist scholars about patriarchal practices and gender attitudes which are embedded in the legal system and are justified, to some extent, by invoking strict and patriarchal interpretations of Islam (Mir-Hosseini, 2009, Moghadam, 2002).

Discussion

While voices of women in Iran have not been part of the DV discourse, this study provided a platform for survivors of DV in Iran to share their experiences with the CJS and law enforcement. In Iran, where the law does not specifically address DV, victims of DV mobilize the law by calling the police or going to a police station expecting that the legal system will protect them. While the literature on DV in Iran suggests that there is an inverse relationship between women's educational attainment and the occurrence of domestic violence (Narimani & Agha Mohammadian, 2005; Vakili, et al., 2010; Zarei, et al., 2017), women who decide to leave their abusive husbands face similar discriminatory legal consequences, regardless of their level of education. Women often face gendered power imbalances when approaching a legal system in which police officers and judges (re)inforce patriarchal values and encourage women to withdraw their petitions and reconcile. All participants identified the legal system as a male-dominated organization which makes little effort to perceive the complexity of victimized women's experiences and often fails to provide the support women seek. As previous studies on victims of DV in Iran indicated, the inefficiency of legal measures has barred victims of DV from reporting their abusive husbands (Sadeghi Fasaei, 2009). Women's accounts of their experiences reveal that men enjoy an implied immunity, and judges and police officers are loathe to deprive them of this privilege. To preserve men's immunity, the judicial and law enforcement sector's agents often dissuade women from submitting or pursuing a petition, blame them for their victimization, underestimate their harm, and discredit their accounts.

Judges and police officers criticize women who claim their rights because filing a petition by a woman against a man is what challenges hierarchies and power dynamics. Reaching out to authorities and seeking help and protection after enduring pain and suffering for a long time is a significant decision that reflects women's understanding of the public aspect of their problem. In other words, through filing a petition against her batterer, a woman challenges the “culture of silence” (Bahrami et al., 2016) and the stigmas attached to reporting DV as it is viewed as simply a private matter which should not go beyond the family. Moreover, women's decisions to come forward are made against the collectivistic culture of Iranian society, and more specifically, the collective identity of the family, which requires a high level of loyalty to family, a burden which has to be carried mainly by women. Although women seek to challenge their husbands' authority by reporting abuse, in practice their husbands' authority is replaced by the discretionary decisions of judges and the arbitrary practices of police officers, a practice which reproduces the same “power asymmetries” that exist in the family (Miller & Manzer, 2018). In Iran, the male-dominated structure of the judiciary, a limited number of female investigating judges at the pre-trial level, and a lack of training for male judges and police officers have exacerbated the influence of gendered attitudes on processing DV petitions. Therefore, rather than being a place to which women turn for protection, courts have become settings that reinforce men's authority (Merry, 1995); the state “treats women how men see and treat women” (MacKinnon, 1989, p.161). This practice might also subject victims to further threats and retaliatory violence from their husbands (Buzawa & Buzawa, 2017; Moe, 2007).

Furthermore, the interview data revealed that judges and police officers not only disregard the harm, but they also blame women for not living up to gendered societal expectations, values, and beliefs, which require women to show obedience, take care of their family, and forget about themselves (Aghajanian, 2008). Judges rarely criticize men for their abusive behavior (Crocker, 2005) and do not employ rhetoric condemning DV. In some instances, judges' and police officers' discourses implied that victims deserved what they experienced because they disregarded socially constructed gender roles, which require wives to be submissive to their husbands (Tizro, 2013). Moreover, in the context of the judiciary as a masculine institution, judges and police officers “do masculinity” through their interactions with men and women by upholding and behaving in accordance with gender role expectations (West & Zimmerman, 1987). Judges' and police officers' inaction or lenient approach toward DV perpetuates the idea that violence is a legitimate way of negotiating and confirming masculinity (Dobash & Dobash, 1998). Thus, one can argue that the patriarchal structure of the judiciary, personal gendered beliefs, and male identity of judges and police officers shape their gendered decisions and statements. While studies on the practice of Iranian judges suggest that judges' personal traditional beliefs and adherence to shari’a may inform their decisions (Banakar & Ziaee, 2018; Tizro, 2013), the impact of religion on judges' decisions was not mentioned by the participants. Except for Mahsa, who attributed the discriminatory behaviors and decisions of judges to their religious beliefs, other women were mainly concerned about “patriarchy” and the “male-domination” in the legal system.

While sharing women's narratives of their interactions with the legal system undermines the taboos that are associated with violence against women as an issue of the private sphere and demonstrates how women themselves have become advocates of their rights, this research encountered limitations. Triangulating the data with court observations and police officer interviews, albeit difficult, could expand our understanding of Iranian women's experiences with the justice system and thus add to our knowledge about women's legal consciousness and their willingness and ability to use the law to meet their needs (Ewick & Silbey, 1999). Moreover, if feminist social movements play a larger role in Iranian society, the sampling problems we encountered may be eased; a sample larger than 15 participants will offer greater generalizability to the behavior of Iranian judges and police officers.

Conclusion

Overall, although Iran's Penal Code generally criminalizes physical violence, since it is not specific to DV, judges and police officers discredit women's accounts and disregard, normalize, and legitimize DV. This approach reinforces the idea that when patriarchy is at the core of the state, gender-blind law cannot be an effective means of protection because the impact of masculinity on judges' decisions will be stronger than law (Miller & Maier, 2008). Thus, the role of the gendered processes of a male-dominated organization in oppressing women and perpetuating violence against women is just as significant as the law, if not more so, since the extent to which laws are applied is shaped by the discretionary decisions of the judicial sector's agents (Alderden & Ullman, 2012). While such discretionary decisions, to some extent, can be attributed to a lack of a comprehensive law, future research should assess the effectiveness of the 2021 bill (after approval) to discern if there are improvements in the treatment of women over time.

Despite the limitations of this study, due to the fact that so little is known about Iranian women's experiences in family and criminal courts, this study of women's narratives offers valuable insights into understanding the gendered power dynamics in the judiciary and law enforcement. Given that women bring a variety of cases, such as divorce and custody, to family courts, further research is required to explore how judges communicate gender roles and reinforce male domination in all cases related to marital relationships. Also, since research indicates that the interactions of survivors of interpersonal violence/abuse with the legal system shape their perceptions of the law and themselves as rights-bearers (Merry, 2003), further studies can explore the transformation of legal consciousness of Iranian victims of DV due to their experiences with legal officials and the law. Since legal consciousness of people is “situated in relation to particular types of laws, particular social hierarchies, and the experiences of different groups with the law” (Nielsen, 2000, p. 1055), exploring the legal consciousness of different groups in various settings allows for the expansion of this theory.

Not surprisingly, and as was previously discussed, women's interactions with police officers and judges resulted in deep dissatisfaction with the CJS and the law. However, while the study participants' narratives revealed that despite a system in which women's voices are not heard is unreliable, the unreliability of the system had not discouraged any of them from pursuing their cases in criminal or family courts. Moreover, women's accounts reveal that patriarchal gendered-based processes in police departments and courts that seek to disempower women (Nichols, 2011) contributed to an opposite outcome, as "wronged" women became more eager to demand their rights. The high number of divorce cases filed by Iranian women despite discriminatory family laws that constrain a woman's right to divorce (“Authorities’ concern,” 2015), the recent #Metoo movement in Iran in which women shared their experiences of sexual harassment and assault on social media despite legal restrictions (Fassihi, 2021), and women's opposition to mandatory hijab (Cunningham, 2018) indicate that Iranian women place their expectations several steps ahead of legal reality and the patriarchal culture. Our findings show that when Iranian women became conscious of the systemic barriers in their way, they tried to navigate those barriers instead of leaving them unchallenged. These findings suggest the need for further research about how patriarchal judicial behaviors might produce the opposite of their intended effects and make women more determined to challenge the judicial system and demand their rights.

Footnotes

Acknowledgment

We thank the anonymous reviewers for helpful recommendations. The authors would also like to thank Dr. Rose Corrigan for her insightful comments and feedback on an earlier draft of this article.

Declaration of Conflicting Interests

The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Funding

The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.

ORCID iDs

Atieh Babakhani

Susan L. Miller

Notes

Author Biographies

Atieh Babakhani is a PhD candidate in the Department of Sociology and Criminal Justice at the University of Delaware. Her research interests include gender and the law, legal mobilization, social movements, and gender-based violence. She formerly practiced law in Iran where she represented women in family-related disputes such as divorce, domestic violence, and custody.

Susan L. Miller is a professor in the Department of Sociology and Criminal Justice at the University of Delaware. Her research interests include gender and criminal justice policy, gender-based violence and inequalities, and restorative justice. She has published in Violence Against Women, Justice Quarterly, and other journals; her most recent book examines resilience and growth of long-term survivors of intimate partner violence and abuse (IPV/A).

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