
Sara Hussein | Exclusive to iKurd.net
Every society that claims to value equality must face one simple question: can a relationship built on unequal rights ever be moral? The practice of polygamy, one man allowed several wives, still survives under legal and religious protection in parts of the Muslim world. Its defenders call it divine wisdom, its victims call it ordinary injustice.
Polygamy treats love like a ration. A man divides his time, affection, and resources among several women who are expected to accept the fragments as proof of faith.
No rule or verse can manufacture fairness in that arrangement. The arithmetic of emotion doesn’t work that way. Each woman lives half-loved, always measuring herself against the others, while the man’s authority remains unquestioned.
Supporters point to historical reasons, wars, widows, survival, but those reasons belong to a world of scarcity, not to a century that speaks the language of consent and choice.
Today, women are no longer property to be “protected” through marriage. They are citizens, professionals, thinkers. To keep polygamy alive is to pretend that half of society has not evolved.
Even when entered “voluntarily,” the choice is rarely free. Economic dependence and social pressure disguise obedience as consent. A woman who rejects a polygamous offer risks being labeled disobedient or unfaithful to her culture. Power, not piety, enforces the system.
Across the Muslim world, reformist scholars and activists are beginning to name this contradiction. They argue that a principle that once sought compassion now produces humiliation.
The moral core of any belief should be justice, when justice is impossible, the practice must end. Many Muslim-majority countries already recognize this: Tunisia banned polygamy decades ago, Morocco restricts it severely, and even clerics in Indonesia and Egypt question its ethical cost.
The modern standard of humanity is clear. Equality in love and partnership is not negotiable. Any tradition, religious, cultural, or political, that places one gender above another cannot survive honest moral scrutiny.
The question is no longer whether men may take four wives, it is why any society that calls itself just would still allow it.
Men in Iraqi Kurdistan Circumvent the Law to Marry Twice

In Iraqi Kurdistan, laws claim to protect women from polygamy, but in practice, the system is full of loopholes, legal tricks, and cultural double standards.
The question is no longer just about religion or tradition, it is about power, control, and whether society will finally enforce equality, or continue to let male privilege dictate who can love, live, and choose freely.
Polygamy in Iraq’s Kurdistan Region is officially restricted. Kurdish law allows a man to marry a second wife only in exceptional cases, such as when the first wife cannot have children, and only with both judicial approval and her written consent.
Despite these strict rules, many men bypass them by leaving Kurdistan and marrying again in other parts of Iraq, where federal law is more lenient and allows multiple marriages with far fewer restrictions.
Under Islamic tradition, a man may have up to four wives if he can “deal justly” with each of them. This principle has influenced family laws across Muslim-majority countries for centuries.
In Iraq, the 1959 Personal Status Law codified this practice, allowing men to take another wife with a judge’s approval. Applicants must provide a valid reason and demonstrate the financial means to support multiple spouses. Men who marry without permission face fines and potential prison sentences.
When the Kurdistan Region gained autonomy, it sought to modernize its legal framework.
In 2008, lawmakers tightened the personal status law significantly. Now, a man in Kurdistan can marry a second wife only under “exceptional circumstances,” such as infertility of the first wife. He must obtain judicial approval and the written consent of his first wife.
Violating these rules carries penalties of six to twelve months in prison and fines of up to ten million Iraqi dinars (approximately USD 8,600). Women’s rights groups celebrated the reform as a milestone, citing a sharp decline in polygamous marriages.
Despite these efforts, loopholes persist. The most common is geographic: outside Kurdistan, Iraq still follows the 1959 law rooted in Sharia-based personal status codes. Men wishing to circumvent Kurdish restrictions travel to cities like Kirkuk, Makhmour, or Khanaqin to remarry legally.
These areas, with substantial Kurdish populations, continue to register multiple marriages. Unofficial 2014 data estimated around 450 Kurdish men married second wives in Kirkuk and 150 in Makhmour in a single year. Over two years, roughly 1,150 Kurdish men reportedly used this “marriage tourism” to bypass regional restrictions.

Critics argue this undermines Kurdistan’s reforms. Women’s rights activists note that first wives often face pressure, manipulation, or threats if they refuse consent, highlighting the private toll of these arrangements.
Some campaigners call for a unified personal status law across Iraq, combined with public education on gender equality, to address the issue.
A related trend is the rise of Islamic Misyar marriage, or “temporary marriage.” In this arrangement, couples live separately, and women often waive traditional rights such as financial support or inheritance.
Proponents claim it offers flexibility, but critics say it enables exploitation and reinforces gender inequality.
Kurdish activists describe Misyar as a way for men to bypass moral and legal limits, while some Islamic clerics defend it as a solution for widows, divorcees, or unmarried women seeking companionship.
The Kurdistan Region’s reforms aimed to modernize family law and promote gender equality. However, cross-border marriages and the growth of alternative arrangements like Misyar reveal how fragile this progress remains.
Legal restrictions alone cannot ensure justice. Until laws are enforced effectively and cultural double standards are addressed, polygamy in all its forms will continue to challenge the promise of a modern, equitable Kurdistan.
Kurdistan cannot keep pretending that conditional polygamy is acceptable. The law must end the fiction that a man can ever have multiple official wives.
Elastic exceptions, loopholes, and judicial approvals only serve to protect male privilege and punish women. If the region truly wants to claim progress, equality, and justice, it must follow the example of the West: one man, one wife, no excuses, no exceptions. Anything less is a betrayal of women and of modern society.
Sara Hussein, a Kurdish writer living abroad, she focuses on politics, culture, and religion. She is a contributing writer for iKurd.net.
The opinions are those of the writer and do not necessarily represent the views of iKurd.net or its editors.
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