ON THE POWER OF WORDS...AND MORE WORDS
An interesting phenomenon is taking place in the Arab World. Arabs are finally talking to one another, apparently with less nationalistic or ethnographic sensitivity than what has generally existed previously. Even more suprising, they seem to be accepting the exchanges quite amicably. Had Nasser, Michel Aflaq, or any of the other Pan-Arabist fathers lived on to see it, they likely would have been pleasantly astonished. What was perhaps probably seen privately by some as lip service has now in the past two decades been developing into some benchmark of progress.
But wait, unity? A substantial reduction of sensitivity? Are you kidding? You must have had a puff too much of "shoushou"----an affectionate and effeminately seductive term for hasheesh used by young males----to have come up with such a far-fetched idea. Don't get me wrong here, there has been a growth of Arab cooperation on regional (mainly economic?) issues [or at least a semblance thereof]. But where is this "growth" going? Not certain. Are there any tools that can be used to measure progress or regress? Not that the leaders themselves know of.
Talk of 'projects' regarding "Political" and "Geographical" unity (which has since been replaced with the more euphemistic and less-indulging cooperation, and especially mawqaf muhadd) in the press and among/by officials have probably been relegated to dinner- table opportunities for so-called 'obsessed' and 'passionate' discutants and debaters at best, cool-reception or just plain resentful apathy by the general public at worst. But nothing more meaningful than that. Judging by the waves of protests demanding "action" since the Second Intifada onwards. And "action" could ultimately be achieved, a growing public thought concluded, by refocusing shift away from the traditional topics of "improvement through unity" to domestic democratizing reform.
The various sectors of Arab Nation (al watan al 'araby) have excelled in artistic/cultural solidarity and symbolic support--rallying up genuine heartfelt emotion through expression highlighting the plight of the suffering. Mind you, this may seem like a miniscule thing to outsiders because they see no "tangible" result or "effective" accomplishment. This sentiment has also been shared by a great, great many among the masses, as well. So an intelligent (or cynical) person may ask: what's the point, for example, in promoting the song Al Helm al 'Arabi, when its desperate cry for hope serves little more as a reminder of a graphic recurring nightmare? I don't mean to be picking on the song, it formed a deep impression on me the first time I heard it and the first time I saw the associated music video. However, solidarity songs in the Arab context fill a certain gap with limited perimeters, because of their impact or lack thereof, contingent upon one's views. Confined to a specifically designated space, they are trapped within the "heat and spirit of the moment" that space creates. The mushrooming of this particular art form will spike and dip with time, circumstance, etc. and, depending on the size of the space, may or may not have lasting impact on the creative consciousness and mobilization of a population. Or the form may fit the characteristics of that ever-so-controversial word, "propoganda." Many people, from the youngster to the elderly still remember and listen to Halim's romantic cache of songs, but few of our generation know--or even care--about his often-direct praises of socialism and of the late President Gamal Abdel Nasser. I would venture to add that, while our parents' generation is more likely to cherish these songs (and perhaps more as personally nostalgic or historical keepsakes), our generation is more likely to them as possessing little meaning or value. And many of us might even be charged by our parents with what they may see as contempt for, or misunderstanding/misinterpreting of, this historical treasure chest.
THE NEW 'GLOBALIZATION'---FOR ARABIC SPEAKERS, BY ARABIC SPEAKERS
Another more telling reality concerns me, for it signals that in visible terms at the very least, Arabs are showing a will for putting aside the emotional, historical, and modern sensitivities that have so hightened ethno-regional distinctions into grudges, resentment, and arrogance/ egoism/ egotism among others heretofore. Significantly it is not happening at the top, but being propelled by market forces, consumers---and most crucial of all the general public, most of whom are teenagers and young adults participating simultaneously as target and targeter. Among this segment of the Arab world, old models of unity and integration, it convincingly appears, are bowing out to new ones. Whether this is deliberate or not remains unclear. What is certain, however, is that a revolution is taking place in Arab world art, and particularly music.
Well, maybe the word revolution is too strong and too suggestive. Maybe it does risk overlooking the simplicity or complexity of the relatively recent developments. Maybe these developments are only limited to the pulls and pushes of emerging new markets, sources of capital, and target audiences. Maybe they aren't reflective of abstract, non-economic and non-commercial concepts such as unity, collective identity, and individual identity. Then again, maybe forces from both worlds are collaborating in ways we cannot yet fully comprehend. Such an enigma can reflect an old debate among social scientists the interplays and causal scenerios of economics and political/other non-economic modes of behavior ever since the intellectual fermentations of the 19th Century. Which came first? What is the kind of affect? How should a balance and/or collaboration be maintained? Which should be prioritised? Why? And, finally, equally as important as the preceeding questions: in the context of dialect usage, are we (or should we be) giving the possibility of such connections too much credit or attributing too much significence? In the interest of covering some history of the recent developments, I'll skip this point and return to it later.
Starting roughly in mid 1990s and blooming in this decade, Arab performers have reevaluated proprietary rights over their own individual dialects and accents. In a general sense, exclusivity of ownership and use is out; sharing/exchanging and creating instrumental pieces around them are in. What used to be largely "private" (that is confined to a particular location/region) are now "common/public" goods for the craft of the trade. The spread of dialects and accents to different audiences is nothing new to the region, diversity has surfaced throughout its markets since the early days. What is different (and noteworthy) is that more performers are taking the time to learn different dialects and accents. And as has time has passed, this new outreach has expanded with greater frequency.
To be sure, performing in a foreign tongue is not unique to this new current phase of Arabic musical form, either. A number of prominent & less prominent classical artists sang and spoke entirely or predominantly in Egyptian Arabic, despite their non-Egyptian origins. Consider Farid el Attrache, Sabah (in earlier days), Wardah, Walid Toufic (in his earlier days), Latifa, the list goes on. Of course, there were exceptions who at least performed exclusively or primarily in their own tongues, such as Fahad Ballal, Mohammad Abdu, and Wadee el Safie. But this group was just it, the exception to the rule. And to be just as sure, these two trends are not fading memories. They have continued well into the present.
Equally undeniable is the new persistent trend of fluidity. A sort of open borders, open ports [if not completely free trade zone] type of transactions. No longer can policymakers implement protectionism on their countries' "word economies". Not with much success anyway if they wanted to. Arabs are being allowed to "invest" in the use of each other's differing The fluidity is led, and even championed, by an ecletic mix of engines: production companies, poets/lyricists, composers, and consumer audiences. There exists no uniformity as how to different policymakers or private citizens, either collectively or individually, cope with the relatively rapid and sweeping change taking place.
"Globalization?" I can imagine the interjection of a puzzled reader, "You must have meant 'regionalization'." After a moment of contemplation, I would reply, " 'regionalization' ? I've never heard of such a term." I have reservations about globalization, not least when it concerns or could potentially affect matters of identity or economic inequality, fair trade, and domestic reform. But I also believe that embracing it is inevitable. As the saying goes, "the Devil is in the details." It's not overall rejection or overall acceptance that counts. It's what we choose and how we choose it, and how and why it is either obstructed or facilitated. So we will then come across some nerve-wracking but essential questions. Does the exchange of culture, goods, services, and technology which globalization entails have to be restricted to communication between different regions of the world? The most visible mode of exchange occurs along the lines of the West-Far East Asian, those between the "West and the Rest," (and most recently, the West-Arab Gulf--visible in at least prominent international trade or tourism publication). The reasons for visibility here are obvious--the primary 'engines' and 'movers & shakers' of Globalization, the major mulitnational corporations, also collectively known as the "herd," and the emergence of "fertile ground" like the Asian Tigers and Dubai, UAE. But what about intra-regional exchange? Could that qualify as 'globalization' as well?
FROM 'ISH LAWNUK' TO 'YA HALA'
The earliest manifestations I can recall of the recent exchange of dialect uses began around the the early to mid 1990s along a Shami (specifically Lebanese)-Khaleeji axis. Mainly newly rising Lebanese performers, especially females, seemed to have adopted rather eagerly (and helped mainstreamed) the Khaleeji dialects in new songs within the new mix albums being produced. This was accompanied with a burst of Lebanese television programming brought about by satelittes. Significantly, this spread of Lebanese culture coincided [?] with the post-civil war reconstruction, chunks of which could be traced back to investments from the Arab Gulf (particularly Saudis).
As Lebanese performers began singing more frequently in Khaleeji, and the reach of Lebanese satelite broadcasting enchanted Khaleeji viewers, so too did sales of Lebanese albums skyrocket in Khaleeji markets. Then Khaleeji performers reciprocated the gesture and began releasing songs in the Lebanese dialect. Apparently this new venture was a gamble, but it worked: as Khaleeji songs began a process of evolution and more Shami songs were introduced by Khaleeji performers, their frequency has increased on the main Lebanese satelite channels, especially LBC and Future. Except for few and rare instances, Egyptian music and Egyptian performers were largely absent from this exchange.
EGYPTIAN COLORS-ONCE AGAIN?
Roughly around the same time, the emergence of some transformative trends appeared to signal a noticable but less-acknowledged resilence (if not bounceback) of Egyptian dialectal and cultural influence on the Arabic music exchange scene.
In my opinion, the most visible of these trends to make deep impressions on Arab youth & music production throughout the region could be characterized somewhat as the 'Amr Diab revolution.' It began with the song and videoclip Nour el Ein (perhaps the international success of this new style and format--as evidenced by a World Music Award given to the song for "best song in the Middle East"--helped to popularize this new trend). The dramatic shift to increasing and distinctive Western rhythms and beats underlying new songs, the glitzy "stylish new look" persona and hairdo marking every new album, the many female dancers (sometimes wearing clothing that tests the edges) have all had a successfully strong appeal and catapulted Diab's fame to new heights. Rotana (the Saudi music giant) cashed in on this trend early by signing record deals with Diab. Cafés themselves evolved to, or alongside with, this new music development. From a relatively open-aired to a closed indoor setting offering privacy, the new meeting establishment was created to be markedly distinguished by disco lights, fast-food, base, sheesha, and satelite-based pan-Arab music channels featuring the latest clips, with professional waiters. And of course, the new Amr Diab songs played continuously and prominently in the background.
A second major trend has been the increase of foreign singers targeting the Egyptian market. Though this is not new, as Egypt has been a sort of hub for Arab culture, art and literature, what's new is the increase of new and upcoming artists (particularly Lebanese female vocalists) beginning their music careers with Egyptian lyrics while mixing their albums with songs in their native dialects. That these singers have overshadowed Egyptian artists is perhaps an awing point that has not swifted by unnoticed or bemoaned. These foreign singers attract among the best or most well known of Egyptian composers, poet-lyricists, and directors; their concerts have gained greater frequency, perhaps even popularity, and greater attention. And it can be argued that posters advertising their albums feature more prominently than others on the walls of music stores. And finally, they seem to have greater acceptance by Egyptian listeners themselves. Even Khaleeji artists are tapping into the Egyptian dialect. Kuwaiti Nabil Shoail's new song Gani has come after Leih ya Gharam?, while Saudi female performer Wa3d provides another example of Khaleejis crossing the previously red line.
Alongwith with this trend is the growth of songs featuring Egyptian lyrics performed by foreign artists--especially among the newly-emerging-- about, or in praise of Egypt. Who can forget Nancy Ajram's Ana Masry, praising the common Egyptian man who struggles to stand back up in the face of adversity? Ajram has apparently followed up on this song with a new one, Ahli wa Zamalek, targeting the traditional soccer fervor and rivalry in the Egyptian public.
So even though they popularize the Egyptian culture more throughout the region, it begs the question of where this trend is going. It begs the question of whether this is a temporary phenomenon---one where artists will temporarily humor a particular crowd for an initial and strong fan-base, and where "Egyptians" and "Egyptianness" will continue to decline to the margins of the Arab psyche, the Arab cultural production, and even Arab pride? Or will it be one that can push Egyptian artistry back into rejuvenation, back into its golden era, and where Egypt could retain some claim to leadership in this regard?
But would it be a stretch to ask these questions? After all, some Egyptians have ventured into non-Egyptian songs. Take Khalid Selim. His first album featured a song with Khaleeji lyrics, and the associated videoclip played repetitiously on satelite music channels. So it does not seem that Egyptians are at all bothered or worried by balance of the different dialectal songs in the market. But then again, Selim is the only Egyptian (save for Ehab Tawfik who sang in praise of Dubai nearly a decade earlier on the occasion of Dubai Shopping Festival on Dubai TV) I can recall up until now who has chosen sing Khaleeji, or any other dialect for that matter.
THE MAKING OF THE TV STAR, AND WITH IT, A RISING STAR IN COMMUNICATIONS
Another interesting trend is really a barrowing from the British and American originals--a mixture of reality television programming and vocal competition. Attracting contestants from across the Arab world, many of whom sing in their own native dialects and at times sing in other dialects when performing a particular major classical song, these programs are truly pan-Arab. Participating judges are also selected from throughout the region as well.
Yet, this trend may also signal of a new "cultural/song leadership" (or alternatively, "monopolization"), too. The two major programs are Superstar and Star Academy, produced and aired by Future Television and LBC. As such, both programs are primarily based in Lebanon with native crew and cast. Many, if not most, of the judges are also Lebanese. And perhaps, not suprisingly, more contestants have come from Lebanon. Added to this is that while some sort of "democracy of participation" is offered to those who vote for their favorite contestants, "a nationalistic streak is evident in voting patterns" and "how decisive of a role [it will play in leading to a 'democracy of governance'] is something that remains to be explored."
All in all, aside from all detail issues, this new phenomenon furthers any claim Lebanon has in making of itself a new hub for Arab culture and art. What the radio (especially Sawt al Arab) and cinema did for demonstrating Egypt's pan-Arab primacy and spreading Egyptian culture, perhaps satelite programming will do for Lebanon. Long before the launch of reality television and vocal talent shows like Superstar or Star Academy, Lebanese hosts and tele-journalists had penetrated deeply throughout, and were manning, various major Pan-Arab and Arab channels. But such shows may add a distinctive twist that is openly and directly Lebanese, despite pan-Arab appeal and audience. Yet, it's still too early to determine any impact these shows will have in this regard. What is undeniable and visible, however, is the reach of Lebanese presenters, broadcasters, and production crew, in Lebanese and non-Lebanese channels.
THE BOY AND GIRL BANDS
CONCLUDING THOUGHTS
Yet, the trends are not without setbacks and potential flopping, however. Despite carrying an apolitical nature, nationalistic bias surfaces frequently when choices are to be made, as in the cases of Superstar and Star Academy have shown. Furthermore, flags are abundantly displayed in the episodes as if on cue to cheer on, or identify, a particular contestant.
Secondly, the power, or fear, of these new developments to reshift the balance of cultural productivity and leadership in the region is bound to foment some sort of tension as pan-Arab communication becomes more sophisticated or high-tech. It is fair to say that, alongwith general Arab satelite channels, music production companies and satelite music channels play no insignificant role here. The interplay of the largest production companies, concert organizers, and satelite channels has led one prominent and highly-loved Egyptian singer in a television interview to assert what he sees as a deliberate collusion to marginalize and exclude Egyptian performers from publicization and support of their work.
Finally, because it is based around entertainment, chances are that these trends will not constitute "serious" enough of forum to generate momentum for unity on other, serious issues confronting the region where workable agreements and collaboration would be required. The formats of these trends themselves could not be expanded to serve as a model for solving the other issues. The most they could do is to build hope for a common sentiment of 'Arabness' during trying times. But will these sentiments (and hope) be profound enough to initiate and sustain substantive change/improvement? Will they last long enough to promote similarities while respecting legitimate differences, and help work through conflicts and disputes? Or will they just be like mere expressions, conveyed in the moment, only to relegated, disregarded, or forgotten later?
