Dance as Defiance: How the Islamic Republic Lost Control Over the Body
Introduction: When the Curtains Fell
With the closure of Roudaki Hall and the dismantling of Iran’s institutional dance infrastructure in the wake of the 1979 Islamic Revolution, the new regime successfully pushed dance into cultural exile. For years, dance was absent from public life, unspoken in media, erased from educational institutions, and smeared as sin by religious authorities. What the regime didn’t anticipate, however, was that the body would eventually find its own language.
Decades later, the simple act of movement—whether in bedrooms, on theater stages, or in public protests—has become one of the most subversive forms of expression in Iran. Dance, once muted, now echoes defiantly across the country, challenging the ideological core of the Islamic Republic.
From “Harekat-e Mowzoon” to Public Protest
Reforms and Euphemisms: Khatami’s Era and the Return of Movement
During the presidency of Mohammad Khatami (1997–2005), the reformist movement gave birth to cautious public discourse on previously forbidden subjects—including dance. Rather than invoking the forbidden word directly, journalists and cultural thinkers resorted to euphemisms such as harekat-e mowzoon (“harmonious movements”) to sidestep censorship and religious backlash.
This period saw the emergence of religiously-minded reformists who sought to reintroduce dance into cultural conversations through Islamic jurisprudence. They issued istiftas (religious inquiries) to senior clerics, attempting to build a kolaah-e shar’i—a “religious hat” to legitimize dance. However, the backlash was swift and fierce. Conservative clerics and Hezbollah factions labeled such discussions as immoral, and the topic quickly vanished from the press as the political tide turned once again.
Theatre as a Loophole
Dancers Become Actors
With official dance companies dismantled, many former members of the National Ballet and regional folk ensembles either fled Iran or abandoned dance altogether. Those who stayed often transitioned into acting, using theater as a loophole to incorporate movement on stage. Plays focused on religious martyrdom, war, or national pride allowed for limited physical expression, as long as it aligned with state propaganda.
Yet, these compromises didn’t always shield them. The imprisonment of performers like Farzaneh Kaboli (former member of Mahalli Dancers of Iran) reminded the artistic community that even subtle resistance through movement could be met with harsh punishment.
But the movement has already begunNima Kiann
The Global Stage: Les Ballets Persans and the Azerbaijan Controversy
In 2002, the world premiere of Les Ballets Persans in Sweden—a revival of the former Iranian National Ballet Company—became a flashpoint in a geopolitical and cultural conflict involving Iran, Azerbaijan, and Sweden. The company’s staging of ballets by Azeri choreographers Rafiga Akhundova and Maksud Mamedov sparked fierce accusations from Azerbaijani nationalist and separatist groups, who claimed Iran was appropriating their heritage.
The Iranian regime, attempting to distance itself from the controversy, denied any affiliation with the company, emphasizing its ideological opposition to dance. Ironically, this public disavowal placed the Islamic Republic once again in association with the very art form it sought to suppress.
Viral Resistance: The Instagram Dancers
In 2018, a quiet teenage girl named Maedeh Hojabri unintentionally launched a digital revolution. Arrested for posting dance videos on Instagram, her coerced televised confession drew global condemnation. In response, Iranians flooded social media with their own dance videos in solidarity. Hojabri’s defiance became a symbol, her bedroom performances transforming into viral acts of resistance against state-imposed morality.
Mahsa Amini and the Emergence of Dance in Protest
Following the murder of Mahsa Jina Amini in police custody for her “improper” hijab in September 2022, the streets of Iran witnessed an explosion of protests that included something unthinkable: public dance. Women tore off their headscarves and danced beside men in city squares, using their bodies to reclaim agency. The act of dancing became inseparable from the slogans of the Woman, Life, Freedom movement.
One viral moment came on March 8, 2023, when five teenage girls posted a TikTok video dancing uncovered to the hit “Calm Down” by Selena Gomez and Rema. Their arrest only amplified their message, drawing international attention and further igniting resistance.
The 70-Year-Old Dancer from Rasht
When Sadegh Boughi, a 70-year-old shopkeeper from Rasht, began dancing and singing in the fish market, his joyful clips took over Instagram. He quickly amassed over 128,000 followers. The regime’s reaction? Censorship, arrests, and cyber-police intervention. Yet again, state repression only magnified the joyful rebellion of a man who simply wanted to lift people’s spirits.
Hidden Performers and Hypocrisy: Bahar Ensemble and Asian Cup 2023
In January 2024, controversy erupted over the presence of an all-female Iranian dance and vocal ensemble—Bahar Ensemble—during the Asian Cup in Qatar. While the Iranian government denied official involvement, the group had previously performed at the 2022 World Cup, censored by Iranian State TV.
Rather than acknowledge evolving realities, Iranian officials scrambled to explain the unexplainable: how a banned art form found its way into an official international event.
Liberalization or Survival Strategy?
The Fajr International Theatre Festival in 2024 provided yet another paradox. A foreign production titled Ballet Bar—a high-energy mix of hip-hop, mime, and acrobatics—was permitted, though it had to be renamed Café Ballet to avoid connotations of alcohol or Western decadence. Its all-male, non-sexual cast was likely crucial to its approval.
Meanwhile, the regime continues to censor female performers domestically while tolerating their appearances abroad—provided they serve diplomatic or public-relations interests.
Conclusion: The Body Never Forgets
Despite decades of suppression, dance continues to haunt the Islamic Republic—a ghost it can neither kill nor fully embrace. Whether through teenage TikToks, elderly shopkeepers, exiled ballet companies, or mass public protests, the Iranian body refuses silence. The act of dancing has become a political statement, a form of storytelling, a reclamation of self in a society that has long tried to control it.
The Islamic Republic may continue its campaigns of censorship, imprisonment, and propaganda. But the movement has already begun. The body remembers, and it dances.
