Watching the thousands of women who joined their peers to defy bullets and  police batons in the streets of Iran this June, you’d never guess that each  one’s life was, legally speaking, worth only half a man’s. Via shaky cell phone  images on TV, viewers around the world saw slender arms raised in the air and  green scarves slipping back on the heads of female marchers as they stood  alongside men to demand a recount of what they insist was a rigged presidential  election. They risked their lives—and some made the ultimate sacrifice, like  26-year-old Neda Agha-Soltan, whose shooting rocked the Internet. 
 Yet few outside Iran realized that these brave women are denied the most  basic rights. Examples abound: Their husbands can divorce them on a whim, demand  that they live in polygamy or marry off their daughters at age 13. And if a girl  as young as nine commits a capital crime—for example, killing a man who tries to  rape her—she can be put to death. 
 June’s postelection fervor was called a women’s revolt by many, but Iranian  women may have first found the courage to speak out thanks to an earlier  movement: the One Million Signatures Campaign. For the past three years, members  of the One Million Signatures initiative have pressed for women’s rights and  have endured the constant threat of jailings and beatings as a result.
 This quest for equality was born on June 12, 2006, when hundreds of  protesters gathered in Tehran’s Haft-e-Tir Square to peacefully demonstrate  against the legal restrictions they face. The police attacked them with pepper  spray and billy clubs; by the end of the day, 70 people had been arrested. “We  never imagined we’d be met with so much resistance,” recalls Sussaan Tahmasebi,  a Tehran-based campaign member. “Our demands were so basic.”
 But the demonstrators pressed on and devised a plan: They would gather a  million signatures on a petition asking parliament to grant equal rights to  women. The sheer number of names would prove that equality was the will of  all Iranians. Geographic and security obstacles have prevented a  complete tally of the signatures, but some estimates put the total so far in the  hundreds of thousands. 
 Iran’s religious, conservative government sees the campaign as a real threat.  Authorities have arrested more than 50 campaign members, who have been punished  with everything from lashings to solitary confinement in prison. The group’s  website has been shut down by the government 21 times. Members hold clandestine  meetings in living rooms and basements, and activists say they are under  constant surveillance and subject to phone taps. Nonetheless “some say that the  campaign is a struggle, but I found the campaign is a chance,” Azadeh, a  30-year-old artist and activist from Tehran, e-mailed to Glamour. “It’s  a chance for us to care about ourselves and change our situation.”
 So members work below government radar, knocking on neighbors’ doors, or  chatting to fellow passengers in shared taxis. Welcoming both men and women into  its ranks, One Million Signatures draws support from blue-jeaned secular  leftists and black-chadored religious conservatives alike. “Sometimes,” muses a  25-year-old male campaigner, “it will be an unlettered, religious old man who  quickly agrees to sign.”
 The eyes of the Muslim world especially are upon them, which represents both  risks and opportunity. Azadeh sees only the latter. “It is a matter of living,”  she says. “I would like to live in a free, equal and healthy society. To make  such a society, we should take this responsibility. So I said to myself, ‘Come  on! The stage is ready. Go and be in the spotlight!’”