I recently connected with Afarin Bellisario after learning that she was writing about how to keep humanity in a world with constantly-changing technology, including artificial intelligence. Her new book Silenced Whispers explores the clash between modern and traditional in Iran at the start of the 20th century. She kindly guest posts today, including passages from this novel and discussing women’s struggles in Iran at that time in history.
Silenced Whispers: A tale of courage, hope and love in a world gone mad (Guest post)
The heroine of my recent novel, Silenced Whispers, Gohar, plays tar in a country where music is forbidden, climbs trees, and dreams of traveling. But she is trapped in a house with no windows to the outside in a forsaken desert town, “seven days horseback ride from any other”. And in the early 20th century in Iran, her only choice is to marry a man forty years her senior. Her husband is:
“rich, good-natured, and a member of a powerful tribe, but he was no Prince Charming.”
But as she struggles in a stifling marriage, fate brings her to Tehran, where she meets reformist women with values she cherishes:
“These women were different from all other callers to the house, who ran the gamut from Farangi-clad women reeking of Parisian perfumes to those who covered their faces from house cats, lest they were male. These women were writers, publishers, and educators. They didn't just talk about social issues; they acted to right wrongs—an innocent freed, a pension restored, an assailant punished, and a dowry supplied. Many had participated in the constitutional war, procuring armaments, distributing clandestine manifestos, sheltering revolutionaries, and even demonstrating in the bazaar and standing in the path of the shah's carriage to give him a petition in support of the Constitution."
While Gohar is a fictional character, the reformist women in Iran of the early 20th century and the women’s societies were very real. They sought to educate other women and secure basic rights—such as the right to work, custody of their children in case of a divorce, and avoiding marriage before the age of 15, but also the sovereignty of their country. Most remarkable is that the reform activities were not restricted to women from the upper classes. Many working women, even those sequestered in the Shah’s harem, participated. As depicted in the book:
“Noor animatedly recounted how the women's refusal to serve tobacco to the shah had spurred him to rescind the tobacco concession he had given to a Farangi.”
The vast majority of people—including Gohar’s traditional husband—did not support women’s activism. Even the law restricted their movements. When inspired by the women, Gohar ventures into the city without a chaperone to help those in need and stands up to the neighborhood bully, beating up a high schooler who has put up a flyer.
“The blood boiled in her veins. Everything but the boy disappeared. “Stop!” she shouted instinctively. “You’re killing him.”
Everyone gawked at her. The luti paused, his bulky, tattooed arm hanging limp by his side. The bystanders shifted nervously.
“What is it to you?” the luti said, glowering.
The crowd sniggered nervously. A man cursed Satan and meddlesome, brazen women in the same breath.
“He’s a person,” she said, suddenly aware of people gawking at her. She tightened her grip on the chador over her face. “He has a family.”
The luti narrowed his eyes and raised one thick eyebrow. “And who might you be? The mayor?” He put his free hand on his hip.
Someone cackled. Another said, "Judgment Day is coming.” A third cursed Satan.
“A concerned citizen,” she said.
The luti shooed her away with the back of his hand. “Are you itching for a beating?”
The crowd jeered.
All eyes were now on her. Even the boy on the ground stopped whimpering and looked up with large, dark eyes. Blood smeared his smooth, skinny face. He wet his parched lips.
The luti’s clowning appalled her. “You should be ashamed of yourself, beating someone half your size,” she said, her voice strengthening.
“Whores should be banished from the city,” a man said.
“Or stoned,” said another.
Her stomach churned. If the luti attacked her, no one would lift a finger to help her. He was not the only one in this neighborhood who was hostile to her. The mullah despised her, too, for bypassing him as the conduit to the poor. And the police—if they showed up at all—were more likely to arrest her for being alone in the streets than stop the luti.
The attempts to modernize Iran and curtail the influence of foreigners were fiercely opposed by Iran’s powerful neighbor, Russia. But despite being veiled, the women didn’t hesitate to stand up to defend the sovereignty of their land when the Russians attacked the country and inspire men to follow suit:
“Some of them have decided to stop our gutless politicians from caving in to fear or money and voting to accept the Russian terms. They’re going to the Majles—Iranian Parliament- tomorrow to implore the speaker to reject the Russian demand.”
“A petition?”
“More than a petition.” Noor took a deep breath. “They will tell the speaker that they intend to kill any deputy who votes to accept these demands—including their own menfolk—before committing suicide.” Noor paused. “They will carry pistols under their chadors to show they are serious.”
Gohar gasped. Going to the Majles–where women were not allowed to enter–let alone threatening men, especially their own menfolk, was beyond audacious. It was lunacy. But maybe madness was necessary to get their point across, especially if the men faltered. She wondered how Haji would react if she were to join the women. “Are they really going to shoot the deputies?”
But Gohar’s most brazen act is to fall in love with a man of her choosing, albeit from afar:
“By now, she thought of him as a mythical character, a protagonist in a novel, a legend—someone she observed from afar without any hope of ever talking to. “
By and by, Gohar learns that
“Fear is no excuse for cowardice.”
As the object of her desire, the Russian reformist and friend of Iranian nationalists, Aslan, says.
It is a lesson we all can take to heart.
About author Afarin Ordubadi Bellisario
Afarin Bellisario is a bridge between East and West, Past and Future Modernity and Tradition. Born and raised in Tehran in a family with its feet in the past and its head in the future, she was educated and built a career in high-tech in the US.
She started writing on pre-revolutionary Iran. Her non-technical publications in the US, include Movies with My Aunt, the anthology Love and Pomegranate, and her op-eds in The Wall Street Journal and The Boston Globe. She has a regular publication on Medium and posts on Linkedin.
About Silenced Whispers
While other Iranian girls of the early twentieth century cook, sew, and hope for marriage, Gohar climbs trees, reads books, plays tar, and dreams of escaping her forsaken desert town. But when her forbidden correspondence with a non- Muslim boy is discovered, fear of banishment forces the fatherless Gohar to welcome the protection of Saleh Mirza, a powerful nobleman. At 14, she marries his choice of husband, a 55-year-old politician expecting to enter her marital home in a white chador and leave it in a white shroud.
But fate takes her to Tehran, where she is dazzled by the electric lights and gramophones but appalled by the misery, poverty, corruption, and foreign meddling. Endangering her life and marriage, she joins the reformists, while secretly idolizing Aslan, a mysterious Russian allied with the Iranian nationalists.
Then Russia invades northern Iran, and the country erupts. In the chaos of war, does a married Iranian Muslim have a future with a Russian Christian hunted by his own government?
Silenced Whispers tells the story of an Iranian woman’s battle for freedom—hers and her country’s—and love amid profound social change and imperial power grabs. Vividly portraying life in Iran at the dawn of the twentieth century, the book is inspired by the author’s upbringing in an Azeri family in Tehran and her Russian great-grandfather.
What about Gohar resonates with you the most? How do the historical events and societal changes described in Silenced Whispers affect your understanding of Iran’s past?
What a fascinating book, Christy. Thanks for bringing it to my attention.
This sounds like an interesting story.
I see women in Iran had gained some rights in the past, and then those rights were rescinded by the current theocracy. Theirs is a long hard road, at this time.
Revoking their rights is like a punch to the gut. Thanks for always providing support here, Resa!