In Home Fire, family members deeply love one another and they often go to extreme lengths to ensure their loved ones are protected. Karamat Lone, the father of one of the central families, ensures this for his son, Eamonn; Isma Pasha (the head of the other central family) does the same for her younger sister, Aneeka; and Aneeka looks out for her twin brother, Parvaiz. Yet frequently, what characters covertly do to protect their family members is not always what those family members believe to be best, and thus their actions often feel like betrayals. Shamsie therefore argues that even the tightest family bonds can be broken when individuals’ strategies for protecting their loved ones differ and are mired in secrecy.
Twenty-eight-year-old Isma and her nineteen-year-old sister, Aneeka, share a very close relationship, yet their differing strategies in attempting to protect their family create a deep rift between them that remains unresolved by the end of the novel. Isma is fiercely loyal to her twin siblings, Aneeka and Parvaiz, having cared for them after their mother, Zainab, died when the twins were 12 and Isma was 19. Isma frequently describes the strength of the love between herself and her sister in particular, which allowed them to care for each other through the deaths of their parents and grandmother. But when Parvaiz abandons their family to join ISIS, Isma in turn tries to protect what remains of her family by informing the police of his actions. Aneeka views this action as a betrayal of her brother, arguing that Parvaiz can no longer return home if he wants to. Isma tries to explain to Aneeka that the police would have found out about Parvaiz anyway, and that they can’t afford to “let the state question [their] loyalties,” but Aneeka refuses to hear this and she is exceptionally hurt. She subsequently refuses to talk to Isma, illustrating how even the best of intentions can be viewed as a betrayal and how such actions can split a family up. Aneeka, in turn, feels a deep love for Isma, but an even deeper love for Parvaiz. Eamonn notes that “In [Aneeka’s] tales of growing up, [Parvaiz] was her ever-present partner in crime, the shadow who sometimes strode ahead, sometimes followed behind, without ever becoming detached from their twinness.” But Aneeka’s attempts to rescue Parvaiz lead to her own betrayals, which create an even deeper rift between her and Isma. Whereas Isma relinquishes hope that her brother could ever return, Aneeka attempts to find a way to get him home. Aneeka starts a relationship with Eamonn Lone in the hopes that she can one day get his father, Home Secretary Karamat Lone, to help return Parvaiz to Britain. Ultimately, Aneeka also falls in love with Eamonn as their relationship develops, but when Isma discovers the motivations behind Aneeka’s actions, she is appalled and betrayed. Isma tries to reconcile with Aneeka, but her attempts to connect with her sister only drive Aneeka to more extreme actions: she goes to Pakistan to retrieve Parvaiz’s body. This results in Aneeka’s death, as she killed in a terrorist attack in Pakistan. Throughout, Isma and Aneeka are driven by a shared desire to protect their family, but they can never agree about the best way to do so. Thus, Shamsie illustrates how family can be torn apart by perceived betrayals that are borne of different ideas about what protecting a family really means.
Karamat, too, tries to protect his son from being taken advantage of or used for political gain, but like Isma and Aneeka’s story, his strategy to prevent Eamonn from making senseless decisions only drives him further away from the family. Once Eamonn realizes that he wants to marry Aneeka and he learns of her brother’s past, he approaches his father to tell him the full story and to ask whether he can help return Parvaiz to Britain. Karamat instead calls him a “stupid boy” for letting Aneeka take advantage of him. He calls Aneeka the “nexus of al-Qaeda and the Islamic State” and he insists that Eamonn not have any further contact with Aneeka. In a later conversation in which Eamonn once again tries to plea for Aneeka, Karamat mocks Eamonn, asking, “did she give you your first really great blow job, Eamonn?” Karamat is attempting to show the degree to which Eamonn has been manipulated and to prevent the inevitable media frenzy to follow. However, these comments come as a complete betrayal to Eamonn, who has truly fallen in love with Aneeka, and they drive him to join her in Pakistan. This ultimately leads to both their deaths, when terrorists target Eamonn in retribution for Karamat’s discriminatory policies. Thus, Karamat’s actions only serve to further divide his family rather than to protect it as he intended, because Eamonn perceives those actions as betrayal rather than protection.
The story leaves the two families in a mountain of grief. The tragedy of Aneeka and Eamonn’s deaths is highlighted by the fact that they both go to Pakistan in defiance of their families, whom they felt had completely betrayed them. Without that sense of betrayal, the families might have been able to keep their bonds strong and keep their members out of danger. Thus, Shamsie argues that no one person in a family can carry out a unilateral strategy for its protection: the only way that these families could have remained intact is by foregoing the secrecy and instead trying to maintain their families in an open and honest manner.
Familial Love, Protection, and Betrayal ThemeTracker
Familial Love, Protection, and Betrayal Quotes in Home Fire
Parvaiz was the person Aneeka talked to about all her griefs and worries, but it was Isma she came to for an embrace, or a hand to rub her back, or a body to curl up against on the sofa. And when the burden of the universe seemed too great for Isma to bear—particularly in those early days after their grandmother and mother had died within the space of a year, leaving Isma to parent and provide for two grief-struck twelve-year-olds—it was Aneeka who would place her hands on her sister's shoulders and massage away the ache.
“Parvaiz is not our father. He’s my twin. He’s me. But you, you’re not our sister anymore.”
“Aneeka…”
“I mean it. You betrayed us, both of us. And then you tried to hide it from me. Don’t call, don’t text, don’t send me pictures, don’t fly across the ocean and expect me to ever agree to see your face again. We have no sister.”
“That’s my twin. I’ve spent every day the last six months sick with worry about him. Now he wants to come home. But your father is unforgiving, particularly about people like him. So I’m not going to get my brother back. […] half of me is always there, wondering if he’s alive, what he’s doing, what he’s done. I'm so tired of it. I want to be here, completely. With you.”
It was what she’d say if she were still only trying to manipulate him. It was what she’d say if she’d really fallen in love with him.
He had survived military training, during which he learned that fear can drive your body to impossible feats, and that the men of his father’s generation who fought jihad in Bosnia, Chechnya, Kashmir, all went home to their families for the winter months. That piece of information had made him blubber into his pillow at night, not because it made him understand that his father had never loved him (though he did understand that) but because he finally saw that he was his father’s son in his abandonment of a family who had always deserved better than him.
The things you forget. How it feels to hear someone speak to you with love.
“No, I just. I can’t stay here. I can’t do it. They've taken my passport so I have to but I can’t. I thought if I learned the rules… but I can’t. I can’t. I just want to come home.”
Why the secrecy? Why do you think? Because of men like you with your notepads and your recorders. Because I wanted him to want to do anything for me before I asked him to do something for my brother. Why shouldn't I admit it? What would you stop at to help the people you love most?
[…]
When they left there was Isma, wounded and appalled.
“Don't look at me like that. If you liked him you should have done it yourself. Why didn't you love our brother enough to do it yourself?”
“Please don’t try to develop a spine. You weren’t built for it. Did she give you your first really great blow job, Eamonn? Is that what this is about? Because trust me, there are better ones out there.”
A pause, and then his son’s voice at its most cuttingly posh: “I think we’re done here, Father.”
The man with the explosives around his waist holds up both his hands to stop her from coming to him. “Run!” he shouts. “Get away from me, run!” And run she does, crashing right into him, a judder of the camera as the man holding it on his shoulder flinches in expectation of a blast. At first the man in the navy shirt struggles, but her arms are around him, she whispers something, and he stops. She rests her cheek against his, he drops his head to kiss her shoulder. For a moment they are two lovers in a park, under an ancient tree, sun-dappled, beautiful, and at peace.