Hamrāh; The ancient gift of friendships

Over the past few years, I have come to truly cherish the gift of friendships, particularly of those with my female friends. I find myself perenially in awe at the remarkable women I have become blessed enough to surround myself with. Women who are undoubtedly resilient, fearless, nurturing, belly-aching hilarious and far superior in loving me to most men I have ever encountered along the way. I met my oldest friend Tara when we were both 15, through my first school boyfriend (thank you Salim!), and she has been fused to my hip ever since. Over the past decade, we have shared the tumultuous journey from being raging hormonal teenagers together to becoming women, and what a voyage it has been! In the fuzzy background, whilst life got in the way, heartbreaks and fleeting relationships came and went, families changed, and although our paths in life evolved, she has always been steadfast for me. In Persian, when wife is wed to man, they are called each other’s hamrāh translating lyrically to “those who go together”. Although this is a classically romantic phrase, often referring to a married couple, she has been my hamrāh through and through.

The most earnest and worthwhile loves of my life have never truly been men, but rather my companions. Women who know what I want without the words touching my lips, who know

how I feel when the right words aren’t showing themselves to me and know what my desires are before I know myself. Women who have shown me true unconditional love that I never thought existed outside of fiction, have made loving me feel undemanding and effortless, and always show up with my favourite flowers just because. And this got me thinking last night, why is it that romantic relationships have always gotten the spotlight? Have we lost sight of the fulfilment of friendship? So, for this post, I wanted to delve into some beautiful ancient stories of the most meaningful form of love - platonic love.

In the Greek world, friendship (philia) was considered to be one of the highest forms of love, something that Aristotle explored himself at great depth with delicacy. In 6^th century BCE Athens, the city was ruled by the tyrants Hippias and Hipparchus. Amongst the Athenians, were Arisogeiton and Harmodius, two men who were faithfully devoted to each other and their friendship. The story goes that Harmodius’ sister was insulted by one of the tyrants, and the humiliation from this inflamed the pair to plot an overthrowing of the tyranny. During the Panathenaic festival - an annual Athenian festival, sort of rival to the Olympics- the friends killed Hipparchus at the Acropolis, but failed to assassinate his tyrant brother. Harmodius was struck on the spot and Arisogeiton was caught, tortured and later executed. Although their rebellion did not immediately end the tyranny, the friends were later celebrated by their fellow citizens as heroes of freedom. Their loyalty to one another, fuelled their courage against the tyrants – a statement of not just private friendship, but rather a political symbol of collective liberation built on affection and comradery.

A red painting of Harmodius and Aristogeiton murdering Hipparchus.

A hundred miles or so over, the Spartans built a system – the agōgē – where boys were often paired with older mentors and were trained together for the military. Sources describe Spartan men as forming close and intimate bonds with one another, slightly different to the common erastes–eromenos dynamic found all over Greece, as this was strongly tied to loyalty to the military. The idea was that the men would fight harder side by side in front of their beloved friend, a form of fierce loyalty that manifested into battlefield cohesion. I have memories of studying this system at school and thinking how purposeful it is to have someone next to you that made you braver, untamed and less scared. Now I know.

When a lot of people consider stoicism, they have a misinterpreted and skewed belief of being apathetic and indifferent in any form of intimate relationship that might interfere with your being self-fulfilling. And I am here to clear this up. Seneca himself often wrote about the value of true companionship, about the virtue and shared moral striving one could gain from it. He argued that transactional friendships dissolve over time as the ‘profit’ is not permanent, whereas genuine friendships endure as it is based on character, not circumstance. He often describes a friend as being an alter ego – ‘another self’. Not entirely in the poetic sense. In a letter he says, “When I consider myself happy, I do so because I am happy in my friend’s happiness”. I have found this over the years to be true, true friends share in your joys, sorrows and journey. Seneca knew something that a lot of us now still don’t grasp – that human beings have always needed friendship. It is rooted in our survival.

In our world, romance is often cast as the summit of human connection. But a few thousand years ago, the ancients saw friendship as the highest form of love – a type of love that isn’t possessive but instead gifts freedom, loyalty and growth. For me, the friendships that sustain me feel closer to the kind Aristotle described: chosen, deliberate and enduring.

Love, Sham xx