A transgressive novel by an acclaimed writer that spans seventy years of Egyptian history
Certain as I’ve never been of anything in the world that you have a right or a duty to know, that you absolutely must know, I sail through the mouth of that river into the sea of her life.
Amna, Nimo, Mouna—these are all names for a single Egyptian woman whose life has mirrored that of her country. After her death in 2015, her son, Nour, ascends to the attic of their house where he glimpses her in a series of ever more immersive Amna as a young woman forced into an arranged marriage in the 1950s, a coquettish student of French known to her confidants as Nimo, a self-made divorcee and a lover, a “pious mama” donning her hijab, and, finally, a feminist activist during the Arab Spring. Charged and renewed by these visions of a woman he has always known as Mouna, Nour begins a series of fevered letters to his sister—who has been estranged from Mouna and from Egypt for many years—in an attempt to reconcile what both siblings know about this mercurial woman, their country, and the possibility for true revolution after so much has failed.
Hallucinatory, erotic, and stylish, The Dissenters is a transcendent portrait of a woman and an era that explodes our ideas of faith, gender roles, freedom, and political agency.
With this very ambitious novel, his first written in English, Youssef Rakha takes on recent Egyptian history through the mutli-stranded life of one woman. Not content to embark on a straightforward narrative (which would not be his style), Rakha has chosen to tell the story of Amna/Nimo/Mouna in her multiple incarnations through the eyes and visions of her eldest son Nour who is in turn, reporting on her life—an unconsummated arranged marriage, passionate love with a young Communist that, after his incarceration for six years, became increasingly strained, a career, a stint as a secret agent, a shift into devout motherhood, and a rebirth with the 2011 revolution—to his estranged sister who lives in the US. The conscious incongruity of having a complex woman's life recounted and, at times experienced, through the vessel of a man sets up interesting dynamics. This a demanding, yet exceptionally rewarding, work.
Fascinating story spanning seventy years of Egyptian history, through one woman’s life. The son narrates his mother’s life, beginning in her university years, through, and up to, her death. He “becomes” her through his time spent in the attic of their home, reminiscing and imagining.
“A truth-seeker, a lover, a revolutionary-I could never be any of those things if I didn’t understand that I was an Egyptian woman’s son. Only by finding out how the story of her life is the history of this country could I know who I am.”
Quick interesting novel about Amna, Nimo, Mouna who is the same Egyptian woman. If your interested in Egypt at all this novel spans over 70 years of history. Fascinating.
OMG!!! I just started reading The Dissenters and read something that was like a kick in the head. I did not know that Egyptians practiced female genital mutilation. I had no idea that about 80% of a form of FGM is attributable to Muslims. As a former college teacher and having studied International Religions ( especially Buddhism at Chulalongkorn University in Bangkok ) I feel ignorant - I do not like feeling ignorant!! This book is a narrative by a young man of his mother's life. She has recently passed away and her son Nour has "visions" where he sees her life from young girlhood on to her death. Now I am not a "magical realism" kind of woman, but I find I accept mystical events in foreign cultures better than I do in European or American literature. I know that I have experienced places as blessed / sacred ( Omaha Beach / Mont Saint Michel ) and profane or haunted ( Fort Santiago in Manila which was used as a torture chamber and place of murder by the Japanese during WWII ). I do not know exactly how to say what I am about to say without sounding like a racist which I profoundly hope I am not. I associated FGM with African cultures that were more "backward" and less educated. Egypt always had such an advanced culture for the continent. I am feeling ignorant again!! I simply did not associate this mutilations of young girls with Islam. It makes sense in the context of the necessity of wearing the hijab, niqab or burka to cover women and prevent them being seen as sexual beings..... I just read this which helps my feeling of ignorance a little: Muslim women's rights encompass a range of legal, social, and cultural aspects, emphasizing equality, education, and empowerment within the framework of Islam. Despite these rights, Muslim women often face challenges due to cultural practices, societal norms, and legal restrictions that may not align with Islamic teachings...... Thank you, I feel a little better. More than 230 million girls and women alive today have undergone female genital mutilation in 30 countries in Africa, the Middle East and Asia. Whether by immigration or culture, FMG is happening in the United States, Australia, Peru, India, Thailand....... In other words all across the world in varying numbers. "{There is a widespread view among practitioners of female genital mutilation (FGM) that it is a religious requirement, although prevalence rates often vary according to geography and ethnic group. There is an ongoing debate about the extent to which the practice's continuation is influenced by custom, social pressure, lack of health-care information, and the position of women in society. The procedures confer no health benefits and can lead to serious health problems. FGM is practised predominantly within certain Muslim societies, but it also exists within some adjacent Christian and animist groups. The practice is not required by Islam and fatwas have been issued forbidding FGM, favouring it, or leaving the decision to parents but advising against it. However, FGM was introduced in Southeast Asia by the spread of Shafi'i version of Islamic jurisprudence, which considers the practice obligatory. ISLAM QA I feel better when I understand data!! Meanwhile back at the book, Anma's story begins with her mutilation and the effects this has on her life and identity. I hope the remainder of the book will continue to be very interesting, but not quite so painful. Egyptian terms and names are gradually explained and the author kindly provides a timeline at the back of the book which helps to place personal events within the context of history. I am looking forward to reading more and becoming less ignorant!! ***** I had to stop. The book is described as: Hallucinatory and erotic. I found all the descriptions of the mother's vaginal areas and fluids to be very creepy from the point of view of her son. I DO NOT WANT TO READ AN "EROTIC" NARRATIVE ABOUT A MOTHER BY HER SON. Offensive to me. Kristi & Abby Tabby
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
This is a hell of a novel about a time period I don't know a lot about (recent - read, last 50 to 60 years or so Egyptian history) and a woman who lives through three distinct eras in her life, is known by different names during all of them, and the grandson who is putting her life together long after she's passed. If nothing else I know now about the Jumpers, and all the various ways a government can wrap itself around you like a noose.
The Dissenters by Youssef Rakha marks a significant literary achievement, introducing English-speaking readers to one of Egypt's most important contemporary voices through a deeply personal yet politically resonant novel. This epistolary work transforms the intimate act of correspondence between siblings into a sweeping meditation on identity, womanhood, and the complex inheritance of Egyptian history.
Rakha's choice to structure the novel as letters from a Cairo-based man to his American sister creates an immediate sense of intimacy and urgency that draws readers into the narrator's world. This epistolary framework allows for the kind of meandering, associative storytelling that mirrors how memory actually works—jumping between past and present, personal and political, as the narrator processes both his mother's recent death and the broader trajectory of his family's experience.
The novel's greatest strength lies in Rakha's ability to weave together multiple narrative threads without losing emotional coherence. The mother's story—encompassing failed marriage, genital mutilation, extramarital love, and spiritual transformation—becomes a lens through which to examine not only individual resilience but the broader struggles of Egyptian women across generations. Rakha handles these difficult subjects with remarkable sensitivity, never exploiting trauma for dramatic effect but rather showing how personal pain intersects with cultural and historical forces.
What makes The Dissenters particularly compelling is the narrator's recognition that his identity as "a truth-seeker, a lover, a revolutionary" is fundamentally shaped by his relationship to his mother's experience. His declaration that he "could never be any of those things if I didn't understand that I was an Egyptian woman's son" represents one of the most powerful statements about male identity and feminist consciousness in recent literature.
Rakha writes with the authority of someone deeply embedded in Egyptian literary culture while crafting prose that feels natural and accessible in English. His ability to move fluidly between intimate family details and broader historical analysis demonstrates both his literary sophistication and his understanding of how personal stories illuminate larger truths about national identity and social change.
The novel succeeds as both family memoir and political document, showing how individual lives reflect the tensions and transformations of modern Egypt. Rakha's exploration of his mother's journey from secularism to religiosity and back again mirrors the broader cultural oscillations that have shaped contemporary Egyptian society, while his own experience as a writer caught between tradition and modernity speaks to universal questions about cultural inheritance.
The Dissenters offers readers far more than cultural translation; it provides genuine insight into how identity forms at the intersection of family, nation, and personal conviction. Rakha has created a work that honors both the specificity of Egyptian experience and the universal power of maternal influence on consciousness and conscience.
The 2011 Egyptian Revolution, also known as the 25 January Revolution, brought an end to Hosni Mubarak’s presidency. Mubarak’s rule was protested by many Egyptian citizens due to issues such as police brutality, low wages, and lack of freedom. Mubarak was the third president elected after President Nasser established the Republic of Egypt in 1952. Political unrest had been prevalent through the years and remained even after the 2011 Revolution until the 2014 election of Abdel Fattah el-Sisi.
The Dissenters, Youssef Rakha’s most recent book, is a commentary on the way a government can affect its people and the harmful extent to which positions of power can be wielded. An experimental epistolary novel, The Dissenters follows an Egyptian woman as she comes of age during the turbulent political climate of Egypt in the 1960s and the way her upbringing shapes the way she reacts to the 2011 Revolution. Over the course of her life, she answers to three different names, each signifying a phase of her life: Amna, a young girl married against her will to an old man; Nimo, a divorced woman in love with a man of her choice; and Mouna, a religious mother turned revolutionary. Amna’s experiences shape her thoughts and opinions, so when she realizes a common trend of women jumping out of windows to end their lives–or the “jumpers,” as she called them–she is desperate to discover their reasoning and trace it back to the governmental systems that relentlessly oppressed her. Ultimately, the only thread the novel finds to connect these deaths is the presence of a man in a position of power over the woman.
When Amna passes away, her grown son, Nour, begins seeing visions of his mother’s life before he was born, providing him with a complex view of the mother he had only known one side of. Nour writes down everything he sees in these visions in a letter to his estranged sister, Shimo, who is living in California. The epistolary format provides the novel with an interesting depth by alternating points of view within the chapters. The reader will be engulfed in reading Amna’s history in third person limited, but then the novel will suddenly insert commentary from Nour. By writing the novel in this way, Rakha merges two generations with contrasting opinions, creating a nuanced conversation about Egyptian politics.
However, his main focus is on the oppression of Egyptian women under the political climate, and he makes sure not to overpower Amna’s voice with that of her son’s. One segment of the novel is written in a first-person perspective from Amna’s point of view, and it follows her quest to learn more about the jumpers. Rakha intentionally shifts the point of view here to provide the reader with firsthand information about the women who were oppressed, and even killed, under the unstable Egyptian government. This section focuses on three women that Amna knew who died in this way, and by allowing Amna to be the narrator of this sensitive subject, Rakha establishes empathy for the women that Nour would not have been able to provide with his narrow-minded view of things. Amna’s narration gives a voice to several female characters’ experiences, preserving their stories.
Rakha relies heavily on similes to advance Amna’s story. In this novel, Rakha’s similes compare subjects primarily to Egyptian concepts, which not only helped me understand the ideas he was including, but also gave me a better understanding of Egyptian and Muslim culture. Some examples of these similes are, “Arms crossed over chest like a dead pharaoh” or “The third cut his throat like a sheep’s on Eid El Adha.” I enjoyed this, as it is not something I have experienced much in literature. Rakha’s choice to include figurative language that encompasses a non-Eurocentric culture was an important literary decision that allowed me to be better involved in the novel.
The novel focuses on women who have endured terrible things and been forced to make terrible decisions, evoking sympathy for them, even at their lowest points. Rakha’s characters intrigued me, fascinated me, and stuck with me long after the book was over due to the way they overcame their challenges. The Dissenters is a novel of perseverance, faith, and rebellion that will both inform readers and challenge their individual complacency.
How timely to be reading “The Dissenters” as Syria is full of promise and risk, liberated from Bashar al-Assad’s regime. The story is told from the vantage of 2014, when the army commander Abdel Fattah el-Sisi has assumed the presidency of Egypt. The novel looks back to the fifties, when Gamal Abd El Nasser becomes president, or the true Zaim (leader). The story is told through the life of Amna, whose life experience mirrors the history of Egypt through the successive Zaims—Sadat, Mubarak, and Morsi—and their unfulfilled promises. Amna is known by three names: Amna the young woman married to an older man yet seeking a new life; Nomi, the woman who studies French and works for a news outlet, assisting foreign correspondents; and Mouna, the woman who survives her second husband’s imprisonment, becomes a mother, and, later, an activist. During the Arab Spring, Amna becomes focused on what she calls “the Jumpers”: women who, seemingly without forethought, are jumping out of windows. Amna attributes this to lies of men, the failure of the revolution, and the suffering of women throughout this succession of leaders. “The Dissenters” was not an easy read for me. The story is not chronological, and without much familiarity of Egyptian history at times I was confused about the time period. Characters who had long been absent reappeared. The narrator is Amna’s son, Nour, who is writing a letter (the novel) to his younger sister, who has escaped Egypt for the more liberal USA; at times, though, it seems to be written by Amna herself. Somehow, Nour has been able to inhabit Amna’s memories and wants his sister to understand her mother and her country of origin. The novel is multilayered, and I am glad to have read it, but it was a challenging read for me. I received an ARC of this book. My opinions are my own.
This is such a rich book and a total gem. I want to get my own copy so I can re-read it. I am not Egyptian, but lived in Egypt for some time and can only imagine how much the revolution is still embedded in the psyche of the country. I would love to hear what my Egyptian friends think of this novel.
Rakha is subtle and gentle in his writing, and I questioned a lot of what was read, wondering, “wait, is what I think is happening, actually happening?” Almost like you’re in the dark, trying to make out what is happening in front of you. Maybe like it was for him to be in the attic, thinking of and conjuring up his mother Mouna. Absolutely beautiful.
Interesting subject matter, but the writing style really detracted from the subject. I found the authors choice to tell the story through dreams and in non-chronological order to be very offputting. The history of Egypt and the political issues that plague it are interesting and would be an excellent backdrop for a story. I just felt that way that the story was told and the writing style did not do it justice.
utterly painful book. lost at times in the names and the pet names...the characters that popped in, and then again 200 pages later, the metaphors. somehow Mouna's choice to become a bourgeois religious woman was never clear to me, given the risks she took in life. the pain and distance between characters pained the reader. the history of jumpers and of Egyptian politics drew me in. an interesting challenge.