Cristina DeMiranda
Contributor
“No question is too personal, political, or religious,” said Marina Nemat at her talk in Newmarket this past Wednesday. Her two books, Prisoner of Tehran and After Tehran: A Life Reclaimed, are highly acclaimed memoirs revealing Nemat’s experiences as a political prisoner in Iran, and no topic—personal, political, or religious—remains unexplored.
On January 15, 1982, at the age of 16, Nemat was arrested at gunpoint in her own home by Islamic Revolution guards. When referring to this incident, she says, “Fear is a luxury.” She recalls only being in a state of shock, as if she was wearing a bulletproof vest that served to protect her once, but after the threat had passed, could not be taken off. “When your whole existence is threatened, you feel nothing.”
The political climate of Iran changed once Ayatollah Khomeini came out of exile and into power. Citizens soon began to disappear if they were suspected of criticizing the new government. Nemat had told her calculus teacher to teach math rather than relaying religious propaganda to her students; when her teacher continued to talk of politics, Nemat left the class and germinated a two-day strike with the rest of her classmates.
Shortly after, Nemat was blindfolded and brought to Evin prison where she was interrogated. She was asked if she was associated with any communist groups and to divulge the names of any anti-revolutionists, such as her classmates. Nemat was then led to a small room with a wooden bed and metal headboard. She was handcuffed to the bed and Hamehd, the torturer, began to lash the soles of her feet—more than 16 times.
Standing in front of the two dozen women at the talk, Nemat says she would have confessed if she had had anything to confess. But she didn’t. She recalls her size seven feet became size 14 from the swelling. The audience goes silent, cringing at the thought.
”The goal of torture is not to get information,” Nemat insists. “Torture is meant to break the human soul.”
Prisoners awaited their trial, but were not granted jury or the chance to present evidence. A form of sentencing called “The Knowledge of the Judge” was used, which operated on the basis of a single man “feeling” whether one was guilty or not, and doling out punishment accordingly.
“People got the death sentence like candy,” she says. Nemat escaped execution but was then forced to marry one of her interrogators and change her religion from Christianity to Islam.
Writing Prisoner of Tehran not only shared with the world her life-changing experience in Iran, but also allowed her to break the silence that had begun to consume her identity and past.
In person, Nemat is a kind woman, social and polite and with an unexpected sense of humour. She recounts her obsession with Donny Osmond when she was young. A friend reminded her that she had worn black to school when she found out he got married.
Her laughter is infectious, but she is a serious woman. She is passionate about the beauty and horrors of the world. Her hands move with fervour through the air and her eyebrows furrow with anger when she speaks of power being misused.
Nemat’s books and talks demonstrate her dedication to humanity, and her belief that the human spirit is indestructible. She holds strong opinions about politics, believing the ideologies that separate a society into “us” and “them” work against progress—against freedom and democracy.
“Knowledge makes us accountable,” she says, as the talk ended. The insights of Prisoner of Tehran hold us all accountable; ignorance has never done any good.
