Iran’s Presidential Candidate Rants Against “Immoral” Women in Public—While America’s Daughters Are Taught to Apologize for Their Existence
Tensions are high in Iran this week, but not just because of the nuclear deal or the ongoing crackdowns. No, the latest spectacle comes from Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf, a hardline presidential candidate and former mayor of Tehran, who has decided to make the “moral decay” of women the central plank of his campaign. In a rally that could have been ripped from a dystopian novel, Ghalibaf declared that women who don’t wear the hijab properly are “enemies of the nation” and that the government must use “all legal force” to restore modesty to the streets. He then proposed a new law that would ban women from driving alone at night and require all public advertisements featuring women to be vetted by religious committees.
Now, before you dismiss this as just another story about a foreign theocrat being a foreign theocrat, take a breath and look around your own living room. Because the real story isn’t what Ghalibaf said—it’s how eerily familiar it sounds to the conversations happening in American school boards, state legislatures, and even your own dinner table.
Think I’m exaggerating? Let’s walk through the last six months in the United States. In Florida, the “Don’t Say Gay” law has been expanded to effectively ban any discussion of gender identity through the 12th grade. In Texas, the state is investigating parents who provide gender-affirming care to their children as potential child abusers. In Missouri, a judge is blocking a rule that would have allowed transgender athletes to compete in sports—while across the country, Republican governors are signing bills that ban abortion at six weeks, before most women even know they’re pregnant. And in Virginia, a school district just voted to require parents to opt-in before their children can learn about any “sexually explicit content,” which includes anything from Anne Frank’s diary to Shakespeare’s sonnets.
But the most revealing parallel came just last week, when a viral video showed a young girl in a California middle school being told by her teacher that she couldn’t wear a “Girls Support Girls” t-shirt because it might make boys feel “uncomfortable.” The teacher, after a brief investigation, said the shirt was a “distraction” and asked her to turn it inside out. The girl’s mother, outraged, posted the video online, and within hours, it had millions of views. The comments were a war zone. “She’s a child, she doesn’t know what she’s saying,” wrote one user. “This is why we need to protect children from woke ideology,” wrote another. “The real problem is boys who can’t control themselves,” countered a third.
This is the moment you need to sit up straight. Because what Ghalibaf is doing in Iran—using the machinery of the state to control women’s bodies, clothing, and mobility—is not some exotic, foreign evil. It is the logical endpoint of a worldview that is gaining traction in America every single day. The same arguments Ghalibaf uses to justify his hijab law are being repackaged and sold to you as “parental rights,” “protecting children,” and “restoring traditional values.”
Let’s break down the rhetorical playbook, because it’s the same on both sides of the world. Ghalibaf says: “Women who dress immodestly are destroying the family unit.” American conservative pundits say: “Drag queen story hours are corrupting our children.” Ghalibaf says: “The government must intervene to protect the young from immoral influences.” American lawmakers say: “We need to ban critical race theory and gender studies to protect kids from being indoctrinated.” Ghalibaf says: “Women belong in the home, raising the next generation.” American influencers say: “The traditional nuclear family is the only healthy environment for raising children.”
And here’s the part that should keep you up at night: Ghalibaf is currently polling at 28 percent in Iran’s presidential race. That’s not a fringe candidate. That’s a potential winner. And in America, the “traditional values” movement isn’t polling—it’s governing. According to the ACLU, as of this month, 21 states have enacted laws restricting the rights of LGBTQ+ individuals in schools, healthcare, and public accommodations. 13 states have passed abortion bans with no exceptions for rape or incest. And 18 states have introduced legislation that would require teachers to out transgender students to their parents.
We are not watching a foreign news segment. We are watching a dress rehearsal for our own future.
But the real tragedy isn’t the laws themselves—it’s what they do to the daily lives of ordinary women and girls. In Iran, a woman named Maryam (not her real name) told a human rights group that she now takes three different buses to avoid being seen by morality police when she goes to the grocery store. She says she checks the weather app to see if it will be windy, because a gust could lift her scarf and get her arrested. “I’m afraid of the air,” she said.
Now, replace “morality police” with “school principal.” Replace “scarf” with “t-shirt.” Replace “arrest” with “suspension.” In America, a 14-year-old girl in Texas was recently sent to the principal’s office for wearing a shirt that said “My Body, My Choice.” The school cited a dress code policy that prohibits “political statements.” But the same school allowed a student to wear a “Make America Great Again” hat. When the girl’s mother protested, the district’s superintendent said the school was merely “maintaining a neutral environment.”
That girl, whose name I won’t use to protect her privacy, told her mother that night, “I guess I’m not allowed to have my own opinion.” She’s learning a lesson that Maryam in Tehran learned years ago: that your body is not your own, that your voice is a threat, and that the world is watching you,
Final Thoughts
Based on the trajectory of Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf’s career, from Revolutionary Guard commander and police chief to perennial presidential candidate and now Speaker of Parliament, one sees a man who has consistently chased the highest office but always ended up settling for the second prize. His pragmatic, technocratic veneer—often touted as a solution to Iran’s economic woes—has never been enough to overcome the deep-seated suspicion of the hardline base or the charisma of his populist rivals. In the end, Ghalibaf may be remembered not as Iran’s president, but as the ultimate political survivor in a system that rewards loyalty over vision.