Syria: When the Music Shakes the Throne
August 30, 2014
Syria: When the Music Shakes the Throne by Julia Taleb
On Friday July 1st 2011, almost five months into the Syrian uprising, hundreds of thousands of Syrians took to the street in al-Assi Square in Hama. They called for President Bashar al-Assad’s departure in what’s called Joma’at Irhal or The Friday of Departure. In the heart of the square, Ibrahim Kashosh, known for his warm and vibrant voice, stood chanting his lyrical slogans hostile to the regime with almost half a million people repeating after him. His most popular song, “Yalla Irhal,” spoke directly to the president:
Bashar, you are not one of us
Take your brother and leave us
Your legitimacy has collapsed…
Freedom is here, so come on and leave us!
In a security crackdown on peaceful demonstrators that day, Kashosh’s throat was the target. He was captured, his vocal cords cut-off, and his body thrown in the al-Assi river, which runs through the city. Kashosh’s enthusiasm and songs made him the revolution’s singer and the martyr of public protests.
The brutality of the incident only inspired more nonviolent mobilization and demonstrations across Syria and abroad. Dozens of Syrians protested for hours around the Syrian embassy in Jordan in what’s called Strike of Loyalty for Martyr Ibrahim al-Kashosh.
“His songs especially ‘Yalla Irhal’ were repeated in demonstrations in Damascus, Idlib, al-Qamishli, and across Syria,” said Mohamad Ahmad, a lawyer activist from Hama who kept his real name anonymous for security reasons. “After his death, it was important that people bring back al-Kashosh’s voice to the ears’ of the regime and to the whole world as a symbol of our nonviolent resistance.”
National Songs Prior to the Syrian Uprising
Prior to the Syrian uprising, the national songs that were engraved in Syrians’ consciousness were those associated with the Arab-Israeli conflict and the achievements of the ruling Ba’ath party. They also revolved around the president and glorified pan-Arabism, the Ba’athists’ core ideology. Syria, which lost its Golan Heights to Israel in the 1967 War, was the most committed among the Arab countries to Palestinians’ cause of having a state. Over four decades of its rule, the regime tried to mold the Syrian psyche into one of pan-Arabism through the educational system and state-controlled media.
Songs of Marcel Khalife, a Lebanese singer and composer who in 2005 was awarded the UNESCO Artist for Peace, were played repeatedly in every Syrian home. He was famous for his songs of resistance, especially those against the Israeli’s occupation of South Lebanon in the 1982 Lebanon War.
Syrian Children have always sung Khalife’s songs at schools and in the streets, especially his song “Montaseba al-Kama” (“I Walk Upright”). It was written by Samih al-Qasim, a prominent Palestinian poet whose name was closely associated with poetry of resistance.
I walk upright
My spirit is high
A branch of olive is in my hand
My coffin is on my shoulder
And I walk and I walk…
My heart is a red moon
My heart is an orchard…with bramble and basil…
Marcel was also connected to Mahmoud Darwish, a Palestinian national poet and writer whose language’s simplicity and depth made him well-known in the Arab world. He wrote against oppressive regimes in the Arab world as well as the Israeli’s occupation of Palestine.
In his poem on this Earth there is something worth living for, Darwish lists things that deserve living for. Among other things, he says, “On this earth there is something worth living for…an hour of sunlight in prison…people cheering for those who walk to death smiling…tyrants’ fear of songs.” For Darwish, it is worth living for the moment when tyrants start fearing songs as this symbolizes the time when oppressive regimes become fragile. In this context, the Syrian regime’s attack on Kashosh is an omen that the era of oppression is coming to an end and a new beginning of people power is emerging.
Music for history, solidarity, and dialogue
The Syrian regime has always portrayed itself as a bulwark of resistance against occupation. The regime enforced ideological songs that were associated with the Arab-Israeli conflict, which became part of the Syrians national identity and culture. Ironically, they were completely absent from the Syrian uprising.
“Our enemy was not Israel this time. It was poverty, corruption, lack of opportunity, and oppression and these songs don’t reflect this new reality,” said Reema, a Syrian activist from Damascus who kept her real name anonymous for security reasons.
What emerged from the uprising were spontaneous and simple songs that told the stories of what was happening on the ground. On March 6, 2011 when children of Daraa painted graffiti slogans of the Arab Spring on their schools’ wall, “people want to topple the regime,” the security forces detained and tortured them and returned one of them dead to his family. This incident triggered a public protest in Daraa that spread to most Syrian cities and towns by April 11, 2011.
People across Syria demonstrated for freedom and justice for Daraa’s children. During the first six months and when the uprising was nonviolent, the regime’s crackdown on peaceful protestors generated local and international sympathy. Despite the repression, the nonviolent resistance movement has pushed for government concessions. Among other things, hundreds of political prisoners were released, the 48 year-old Emergency Law was abolished, and the governor of Daraa was removed from his office. Many countries have also considered al-Assad’s regime illegitimate and ended their diplomatic ties with the Syrian government.
Sameh Shkair, a Syrian singer who produced over 200 songs of resistance since the 1982 Lebanon War, was associated with Darwish. He was the first to produce a song that told the story of Daraa and security forces’ crackdown on peaceful protestors. Shkair’s song “Ya Haif” (“Shame”) regarded as the revolution song, served as a historical record of the incident and a tool to attract people .
“We placed a voice amplifier on a handmade wheeled and moving board to broadcast the song during demonstrations,” said Ammar, an activist and musician from Salamieh city who kept his real name anonymous for security reasons. “The song was very emotional and moving, people would come out of their houses to listen and many young men and women have joined because they were touched by the song.”
Ya Haif
Shame shame…firing on unarmed civilians shame
How could you imprison children as young as roses
You are the son of my homeland, yet you kill my children
Your back to the real enemy, but your sword is on us
Shame shame
This is what happened shame, in Daraa shame
Youth heard of freedom at door…they went cheering for it
They found guns…they said they are our brothers and they wouldn’t shoot
They shot us and we were killed at our brothers’ hands
On the name of national security
We, who are we?
Ask history to read our pages….
That who kills his people is a traitor…
(Sameh Shkair’s song “Ya Haif” produced in 2011)
Shkair’s song used simple language and slogans repeated by demonstrators such as “that who kills his people is a traitor.” This chant came to respond to Assad’s claim that protestors are traitors.
“Shkair’s song broke a wall of fear and opened the door for more songs to emerge,” said Ammar who was imprisoned and tortured for peacefully protesting. Among other things, Ammar’s Oud, which he did not even use to play publicly, was confiscated and destroyed by the security forces. “For them it was more dangerous than a bomb,” he said. In subsequent incidents, the security forces broke into his house and seized his laptop and destroyed simple recording equipment he was using to record songs with some friends. They secretly uploaded some songs to YouTube under anonymous names that called people to resist the regime’s aggression.
The most important feature of songs during the nonviolent period of the Syrian uprising was their dialectic nature. In the absence of dialogue between the government and the opposition and under restricted media access, peaceful protestors used songs to voice their concerns and spread their messages among the public. Kashosh’s song “Yalla Irhal” spoke explicitly to the president: “Bashar you are a liar and your speech is an empty rhetoric.” This came straight after al- Assad’s first speech to the parliament on March 30, 2011 where he claimed that the uprising was a conspiracy against Syria.
Activists were recording songs and sharing them on social media where major media outlets such as Al Jazeera picked up the songs and broadcast them. Kashosh’s songs and story of his death went viral on social media and major media published the story which brought attention to the Syrian uprising and created international sympathy.
Abdul Baset Al-Sarout, a goalkeeper of Al-Karamah’s football team in Homs, became known for his song “Jana Jana Jana” (“Heaven Heaven Heaven”). His popularity in Homs, known as the capital of the revolution, enabled him to mobilize hundreds of thousands of people. “People were touched by his ardent voice and hundreds of thousands of people were singing with him,” said Khaled, an activist from Homs. “People went purposely to watch Al-Sarout singing and as long as he was on stage no one would leave.”
The 19 year-old athlete used the popular rhythm of an old song and added new lyrics that addressed people in various cities and towns, highlighting the significance of these places to the uprising.
Jana Jana Jana
Heaven Heaven heaven, our country is Heaven
Our homeland with its kind soil is our love…
Even its hell is heaven
…
Daraa, revolt revolt…you are the light in our darkness
Homs, respond to calls and support
….
Aleppo, mother of heroes, Syria is calling you
Stand with us, don’t disappoint our country
…..
Hama, forgive us…we owe you
You are from us and for us
Healing is our hope
….
Jisr el-Shoghour and Rastan, you sang the songs of Martyrs
It doesn’t mater how many are killed and buried
God, heaven is for us
….
(Al-Sarout chanting and singing in Homs during the “Friday of Marching to Squares” on Dec 30, 2011)
Al-Sarout urged the people of Aleppo who were silent at the beginning of the uprising to speak up and join the Syrians’ quest for freedom. “His songs reclaimed the identity of Syrians cities and towns and reminded people that these places belong to them and not to the regime,” said Khaled.
“When protestors had to stand for hours at night, songs of al-Sarout kept them awake and moving. Nights became the time for celebration and activists sang and danced for hours,” said Reema. “Every time I heard al-Sarout’s words’ ‘heaven heaven, our homeland is heaven’ I felt as if I was taking an oath of loyalty to Syria.”
Ironically, the effectiveness of songs such as “Jana,”“Ya Haif,” and “Yalla Irhal” in mobilizing people has inspired the government and pro-regime citizens to use the rhythm of these songs and add lyrics that glorified Assad and his supporters.
The uprising has also helped revive folklore and regional songs that were used to build solidarity. Syria is known for its ethnic, religious and cultural diversity and songs were used to enrich this mixture and build unity. Almost every Syrian city has its own local songs that represent its culture and dialect. Now that most Syrian cities share the same suffering, they began to connect with each others and share their songs. People in Daraa were singing in their local dialect, “Homs we are with you until death.” Similarly, people in Homs were singing songs that were from Daraa’s culture to show solidarity. Prior to the uprising, people in Homs were not really familiar with the local songs of Daraa and each town had a hard time remembering or maintaining its own folklore,” said Khaled.
Among other things, activists used Aeradh, a form of singing and traditional celebration that originated mainly in old neighborhoods in Damascus and Hama hundreds of years ago. It is a form of community ceremony carried out by a number of men to celebrate social and religious assembly. Usually a leading man is carried on the shoulder of another man who chants traditional songs while the rest of the group repeats after him. Throughout Syrian history, Aeradh became the musical mouthpiece of their communities . While the lyrics vary depending on the occasions, they all revolve around the idea of masculinity, challenge, and joy.
“The celebratory nature of Aeradh has attracted many young men who were also filming these events and publishing them on YouTube,” said Reema. In some places, local people surrounded old neighborhoods and provided a shield where no stranger was allowed. “The security forces and their cars had difficulties entering the narrow streets of these communities, which helped to keep activists demonstrating for a longer time,” said Reema.
(Aeradh in Barzeh’s neghiborhood in Damscus, June 22, 2011)
From Nonviolent Resistance to Arms
After almost five-months of nonviolent resistance, officers of the Syrian Army formed the Free Syrian Army (FSA) on July 2011. The goal was to protect civilians and topple the regime. More than three years into the conflict, the shift to armed resistance has only increased death and destruction and has invited Muslim extremists and al-Qaeda-affiliated groups into the country. It divided the religious and ethnic unity that the nonviolent period had achieved, attracted more than 11,000 foreign fighters, and turned the popular peaceful uprising into a Civil War.
Al-Sarout became a rebel sinning for the FSA and urged people for revenge after the security forces killed his four brothers. Extremists and Jihadist fighters tried to create an alternative identity that revolved around religion and used religious’ songs to attract and mobilize people. Religious songs proliferated and some people used slogans that were more popular among Sunnis such as “Allah is the Great,” and “Mohamad is our protector.”
“This has altered our nonviolent activities because it excluded all non-Muslims and secular population who later decided to go home,” said Ammar. When the conflict turned violent, Ammar stopped protesting and resorted to music. He worked with other local artists to secretly record songs and poetry, which they published and circulated anonymously on YouTube. In his poem “No Excuse But For the Dead,” Ammar urged people to protest peacefully:
It is people when they say yes then it is yes…
Revolt and shout for freedom
Only that would bring tyrants down…
(Ammar’s poem, “No Excuse But For the Dead”)
At a time when songs required government approval and high production-costs for Syrian artists, the popular uprising came to license all voices. “Streets and squares became a public stage for all Syrians to sing and most importantly people enthusiastically listened,” said Reema. Protesters repeated the songs and celebrated the hope of freedom, they lit candles and they held hands in big circles to show unity.
Before the armed struggle hijacked nonviolent resistance, each Syrian city was inventing its own Kashosh. Each town was replicating al-Sarout’s songs and each alley was chanting Shkair’s “Ya Haif.” Guns that replaced songs in the Syrian streets have caused the death of more than 190,000 people and displaced 9 million other. While arms flooded the streets, the epic nonviolent struggle continues and songs continue to play in Syrians home, in shops, and online. Most importantly, “ they are in our new consciousness and part of our new culture,” said Ahmad.