Love Harder, the new book by Barbara Stefanelli

«CHow do we understand if a woman is free? If she wears the veil, does that mean she isn’t herself?” The question is from a student who is nearing the end of a meeting during which we talked about Iranian girls, about their revolution against the illiberal and sexist regime in power in Tehran since 1979.

A revolution that between autumn and winter 2022 saw dozens of protesters burning their hijab, often in front of smartphone cameras so that images of the uprising were shared live and broadcast to the world.

A liberating ritual compared to the law that requires women in Iran to cover themselves – their hair, their ankles – so as not to disturb menso as not to excite their gazes… As if men, not only in the Islamic Republic, were at the mercy of primitive predatory instincts and therefore had the right to be shielded, protected from themselves, escorted away from the dark side of their strength.

Nika, 16 years old, the protagonist of the first chapter of Love Harderthe book that collects ten stories and I wrote for Solferino, does so: he goes to a demonstration in Tehran on September 21st and sets fire to that black rag that he considers a symbol and material of oppression.

That is his way of “loving stronger”, loving and fighting, risking everything to decide, today and forever, about himself and for himself. – from the clothes she wears to the possibility of singing in public, from the job that will guarantee her economic independence to the trip she is already planning to go to her friend Leni in Jena, Germany.

Nika burns her veil and throws stones at the paramilitaries, she is at the head of the procession, challenge the sticks and gases. You will be surrounded by plainclothes motorcyclists, the most dangerous. And she will end up in a detention center, raped, beaten to death, finally abandoned among the corpses in the capital’s morgue. Until her mother and aunt recognize her, after days of appeals and searches throughout the entire city. The last words of Nika Shakarami – on WhatsApp, on the night that says goodbye to summer – are for Leni, 4.40 am in Germany: take care of yourself, “take care of our self”. Then nothing more. His accounts are wiped out, his future is wiped out.

And so, in the name of Nika and the others, is freedom defined in the flames of that veil? This was the question of the Italian girl, her heavenly gaze, her head wrapped in a white drapery. Being free, in any country and in every season of life, means always having a choice. At least one possibility. Being able to decide, autonomously, even when it means moving, jumping a fence, going somewhere else with respect to expectations – be they those of History or of your family, of your friends or of yourself before changing your mind.

You can take off, put on, or keep your veil on – like a short skirt or the gray jacket of a suit – if you can think/feel that you are moving within the perimeter of your identity. That you are perhaps modifying that perimeter but always without fear of judgment and consequences. And without interpreting, making them your own, the desires that others project onto you to keep you still, close, under control.

How do you protect what you feel is the most authentic version of yourself? Write to us at [email protected]

All articles by Barbara Stefanelli

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