Singer of Light, Judges of Darkness

By Shawqi Bzay

The Lebanese people received the news of the prosecution of Marcel Khalife and the call for his imprisonment for blasphemy with mixed feelings of humiliation, bitterness, and exasperation. To the Lebanese people, Khalife is not a mere singer and musician, but someone who expresses by word, voice, and melody their collective conscience, emotions, pain, and their passion for freedom.

For over 25 years, his voice has been a bottomless well of love, tenderness, and honesty. It feeds on desires molded of mud and hope, and on cries of despair in the darkness of night, despair from expectations delayed, and the despair of mornings that never see sunrise. Khalife was not loved for his vocal abilities alone, but for his insight deep into the heart, his unique ability to bring imprisoned inner feelings to the surface, and his desire to overcome instinct and lust to achieve ethereal beauty.

This voice, cherished by all Lebanese people regardless of class, sect, or conflicting opinions, is now being threatened with silence, prosecuted on the basis of false accusations and unenlightened rulings. This voice’s soft resonances combined the glory of the muezzin announcing prayer, the bells of a church, the implorings of a bereaved mother, and the light of a star bent on a grave, and now it is being dimmed precisely because it represents one of the few beacons in the midst of confusion and darkness.

Are we not insulted and disgraced when thousands of ordinary singers-whose voices resemble screams or even belches in night clubs and entertainment centers-continue to perform while blind justice has chosen to accuse of blasphemy the voice which sang "Oh, Ali," "The Passport," and "Of all the Beautiful Mothers?" In the entire jungle of satellites, the internet, pornographic magazines, and night clubs earning their keep with cheap sexual innuendoes (licensed, of course), no one threatens public taste and morals except Khalife, the composer of "Promises of the Storm," and the singer of the resistance, the South, Palestine, and the "tobacco plant." In the midst of all the turmoil of curses and exchanged accusations of treason and spying between the opposition and government supporters of the accusation, in this one case everyone suddenly yields to silence, since this time danger is coming from the enemies of religion-the blasphemous ones-and those behind the loss of Jerusalem, south Lebanon, and the Golan Heights!

All this take place in a Beirut that claims to be the 1999 cultural capital of the Arab world. How will the Arab world believe the city’s claim after what has happened? Who would believe that Beirut remains a unique fortress, refuge, and conscience when its own people violate freedom on a daily basis, ending any hope of regaining the identity and the meaning of that role?

The city which once opened her heart to thousands of oppressed people fleeing their governments, to political refugees, and to those banned from writing and publishing, is not only the same city which now prosecutes Marcel Khalife for blasphemy, but also the city which confiscates the books of Al-Sadik al-Nayhoum, Sheikh al-Nafzuawi, and Abdo Wazen, under accusations of pornography and perversion. Beirut is now home to repulsive, vile literature, tasteless publications, loathsome songs-as well as a large number of fast-talking thieves, middlemen and entrepreneurs who trade in principles and slogans.

How can we support Nasir Hamid Abu Zaid and other Arab intellectuals, giving them a forum in our cultural center and in our media, while our own writers, artists, and great fighters are continuously subjected to prosecution, and while a large number of our books are confiscated and banned?

What has happened to Marcel Khalife, and undoubtedly will eventually happen to many of us, would not have occurred if it were not for the frightening absence of discussion, debate, and social and political vitality. Instead there is only muteness, and what seems to be complete resignation from hope. No unions, no political parties, no cultural institutions, and no student movements.

It is quite strange for all this to occur under a new regime which we had hoped, and still hope, would bring integrity and the rule of law. However, these attributes and virtues cannot be realized in the absence of political vigor, and where diversity of expression and open dialogue are stifled.

It is not a coincidence that this happened to Marcel Khalife at a time when various fundamentalist groups are in ascendancy. During a time when the government relinquished its actual role of regulator and unifier, these groups have, in the name of religion, tried to suppress every hope for change, starting with voluntary civil marriage, abolishing political sectarianism, and ending with attacks on progressive literature and art.

The recent attack in Tripoli on those celebrating the anniversary of the foundation of the National Lebanese Resistance was part of this darkened spirit of closed-mindedness which has counterparts in Egypt, Algeria, Afghanistan, and elsewhere. This spirit, which clashes with the shining Islamic essence exhibited by the resistance in south Lebanon, is trying to hide its inadequacies and time-old rigidity by hiding behind closed concepts and literal texts.

Then let Marcel Khalife go to trial, and even to prison, since the nation has no more space for a ray of light or a glimpse of hope. Let him go, since his fading, languishing voice reminds us of dreams and heavens that we would be stupid to think of again. Let Marcel Khalife go alone to where the triumphant darkness wants him to go, since everyone is preoccupied with careerism, informants, and honorary parties where the obedient living and the defiant dead are crowned, as well as with the fake and effusive praise which is welcomed by all governments, in all times and eras.

Translated from the Arabic by Fatmé Sharafeddine Hassan

Shawqi Bzay, a Lebanese poet and critic, has written this article in Arabic, and was published in An Nahar newspaper. The English translation appeared in Al Jadid Vol. 5, no. 28 (Summer 1999).

Translation Copyright © 1999 by Al Jadid