Marcel Khalife and Prison

By Abdo Wazen

Just returning from one of the southern Lebanese villages where he has often performed, singing for the Lebanese resistance, Marcel Khalife received the shocking news that blasphemy charges had been brought against him, and that he would be imprisoned. Khalife was not the only one to be taken by surprise: the entirety of Beirut–a city celebrating this year its status as the cultural capital of the Arab world–was surprised, as were its intellectuals and many citizens who always loved and sang Khalife’s songs.

Khalife should have no need to defend himself against such accusations, single-handedly issued by a judge from Beirut, "the capital of freedom," for he and his audiences know that he did not offend religion, nor did he undertake the singing of a Koranic text. He merely sang a poem by Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish, titled "Oh Father, I am Yusif." Khalife chose this poem because it describes symbolically the exiled poet’s struggle, also exemplifying the life of the contemporary Arab individual.

It is difficult for Khalife’s Lebanese and Arab audiences to believe that such a musician could possibly offend any religious–or human–feelings. His many songs, which accompanied the national liberation movement and the national resistance, have spoken to people’s sentiments and instilled hope in their hearts. No musician has attached himself to the cause of the Lebanese people as Khalife has done. His music uniquely combines aesthetics with discipline, struggle with dreams, revolution with love. Sublime and popular, his songs attract the elite and are beloved among the populace.

During the civil war, Khalife’s songs were almost banned in the "Christian areas," but remained popular despite confiscation attempts. At the time, some suggested that Khalife was an outcast, but eventually everyone realized that Khalife’s music is for all human beings; he does not limit himself to one national or cultural identity. His commitment to the Palestinian cause involved him in a noble struggle for Arab rights, a struggle for which he paid dearly. He also sang for south Lebanon’s martyrs, its land, freedom-fighters, mothers and children.

Marcel Khalife needs no defense; his noble past testifies for him. His musical legacy constitutes an Arab cultural treasure that must be preserved, and a state other than Lebanon would have probably known how to do that. A successful artist like Khalife could have accumulated a large fortune from his work, but instead, his concerts were always for one charity or another, supporting the Palestinian and Lebanese resistance, the building of hospitals, and non-profit organizations. He declined all high-profile offers, which he believed would have compromised his dream, and he preferred to remain a normal citizen. It is hard to believe that the work of a progressive, authentic and sensitive artist like Khalife could be construed as an insult any group of people or any individual.

The religious authorities have left Khalife’s fate in the hands of the Lebanese judicial system. This judicial system will face the repercussions of its final judgment, a decision that will be passed not only on Khalife, but by extention on the culture that Lebanon celebrates this year.

Translated from the Arabic by Manal Swairjo

Abdo Wazen is a noted Lebanese poet, novelist, and a cultural editor in Al Hayat newspaper, where his article appeared . The English translation appeared in Al Jadid Vol. 5, no. 28 (Summer 1999).

Translation Copyright © 1999 by Al Jadid