Feminist Resistance to Shrinking Spaces and Rising Repression in Iraq

Between 2014 and 2019, the intersectional feminist movement saw great progress in Iraq and Kurdistan. Civil society organizations had the civic space to challenge conservative norms and advocate for queer and women’s rights, despite the persistent societal and political challenges. Networks were formed and communities were built. But this all changed with the rise of extremist voices in government, whose policies silenced many of those who had previously driven the movement.

Leah, a queer activist from Sulaymaniyah, reflects on the deepening isolation faced by queer and feminist activists amidst a shrinking civic space in Iraq. “We used to refer at-risk LGBTQ+ individuals to specific organizations for support. But at the first sign of pressure, they not only closed their doors on us; they betrayed us.”

In a country marked by social fragmentation and political instability, gender has become a focal point for backlash and repression, especially for the religious extremist Sadrist political movement. Feminists and queer activists are increasingly targeted, and the once unifying motto “Leave No One Behind” has become a hollow phrase. Networks built on solidarity are fracturing under pressure from the government, leaving many – especially queer activists – excluded, unsupported, and forced to navigate hostile terrain alone.

The Anti-Gender Campaign and Feminism as Scapegoat

Since the rise to prominence of the Sadrist movement, feminist activists have been increasingly deprived of places to gather, organize, or speak. When raising sensitive or politically charged topics such as queer rights, they often find themselves silenced, even within circles nominally committed to feminist causes.

Under the influence of the Sadrist movement, led by Muqtada Al Sadr, censorship of feminist voices became more pronounced than ever. Activists are silenced under accusations of spreading “indecent online content”, and civic spaces are systematically stripped away. The campaign has even deepened the generational divide within the feminist movement, as older feminists often relied on more traditional approaches that focused primarily on women’s issues and less on intersectional concerns, shaped by the political context in which they organized. Meanwhile, younger feminists have adopted a more inclusive approach, drawing on queer theory and intersectionality, and working mainly at the grassroots level. This has weakened solidarity and contributed to the erosion of safe spaces for social organizing.

Since 2021, Iraq’s government has increasingly targeted anything that deviates from traditional gender norms, especially queer identities, as a strategy to distract public attention away from systemic political dysfunction, corruption and public mistrust. Queer and feminist activists are increasingly labeled as “foreign agents.” Some religious extremists have even blamed them for crises ranging from natural disasters to the COVID-19 pandemic.

Between 2023 and 2025, this strategy intensified: feminism and queer rights were conflated with Western liberalism and framed as existential threats to national identity, laying the groundwork for repressive legislation. In 2023, the Iraqi government banned the term “gender” in the media, replacing it with the criminalizing label “sexual deviance”. The campaign further culminated in the passage of the anti-LGBT bill in April 2024, which criminalized homosexual acts and trans identities. This was accompanied by amendments to the Personal Status Law in January 2025, deepening the legal and social exclusion of queer and feminist communities.

Silently Navigating Iraq’s Civic Spaces

This wave of repressive laws didn’t only criminalize identities. It reconfigured the entire civic terrain. What were once considered safe spaces – sites of advocacy, care and solidarity – have disappeared. Feminist and queer organizations that previously provided direct support or engaged in public advocacy were put under investigation and surveillance. This sudden shift wasn’t due to government pressure alone; key actors, including major international donors, also began to withdraw their support for queer and feminist initiatives. For many activists, this retreat felt like a stark betrayal. 

For older feminists, who have been organizing since 2003, this betrayal resulted in a regression of the social change that they had achieved. For younger feminists, it confirmed a long-standing reality: “Our civic spaces were always conditional, unsafe and never ours,” explains Alex, a queer activist.

Today, widespread fear of persecution hinders the efforts of feminist and queer rights organizers. People must tiptoe around terms like “gender” and phrases like “advocacy for women’s socio-political participation”, while topics such as “queer rights” are completely off the table. Events are subject to surveillance, and organizations cannot register legally without thorough background checks by local authorities. This surveillance has forced many activists underground. What remains are private, often secret spaces that are fragile and isolated.

The crackdown has also extended to digital spaces. Many civil society organizations and activists have gone quiet online, with the exception of those who can use encrypted platforms. Social media is monitored, feminists are harassed and taunted in forums, and identified activists are subjected to smear campaigns.

Vocal Iraqi Feminists in Fragile Infrastructure

What took two generations to build in Iraq, was gone. After the fall of Saddam Hussein’s dictatorship, civil society actors and feminists worked to create something long denied: civil rights for women and the marginalized. While there were always opponents to this movement, they managed to create spaces that offered hope in a patriarchal system. Over time, queer activists became more vocal and confident, often finding quiet support within feminist spaces. 

But the combined pressure of intimidation from militias and religious extremists, as well as legal restrictions and public attacks from political figures, from 2021 to the present, succeeded in suppressing the freedoms that had been achieved. The “safe space” that took older feminists years to establish was gone. The newer generation of feminists is learning to move forward without the hope that their predecessors once held.

Different Approaches, United Resistance

The erosion of civic space has created a generational rift. Older feminists – who are often more established professionally and therefore more constrained by reputational concerns and legal consequences that might put their careers and status at risk – tend to take a more careful, “watered down” approach to advocacy. Meanwhile younger feminists continue to operate anonymously through grassroot initiatives that often lack legal protections and access to funding. This disconnect has bred resentment. One young feminist, Sam, explained, “We looked up to them. We understand they are protecting themselves, but they left us behind.”

There is also a disconnect between the approaches of the different generational groups. Younger feminists often rely on improvised methods like rotating safe houses, untraceable funding channels, and whispered mentorships. Older feminists often view these tactics as unsustainable and dangerous. In turn, the younger generations critique the older feminists as overly cautious, wasteful, and too concerned with pleasing donors.

Still, new forms of solidarity are emerging despite these tensions. Although the two generations differ in their perspectives, they agree that government reform is no longer serving their interests. Moreover, this solidarity stems more from respect than agreement. Younger feminists look to older ones to understand the history of their efforts and the lessons that can be learned from past achievements, while acknowledging the sacrifices that they made in the past. On the other hand, the older generation of feminists are learning from the creativity and courage of the younger ones. “They are paving a different way, and we are observing, listening and admiring,” says a veteran feminist from Baghdad. “They inspire us to keep going despite fear.”

Feminist and queer resistance in Iraq refuses to be silenced. The current solidarity has not vanished but transformed, perhaps not in grand gestures but in quiet whispers. This solidarity will only be sustained in the current context of oppression through indirect support among activists, discreet care services for members of the community, and an inclusive approach to advocacy.

The views expressed in this article are not necessarily those of the Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung.