Lebanon's Fairouz: The Arab World's Most Celebrated Living Voice

Lebanese icon Fairouz. (AFP)
Lebanese icon Fairouz. (AFP)
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Lebanon's Fairouz: The Arab World's Most Celebrated Living Voice

Lebanese icon Fairouz. (AFP)
Lebanese icon Fairouz. (AFP)

The Arab world's last living music legend Fairouz, who French president Emmanuel Macron is to visit Monday in Beirut, is a rare symbol of national unity in crisis-hit Lebanon.

Since the death of Egyptian diva Umm Kulthum in 1975, no Arab singer has been so profoundly venerated as 85-year-old Fairouz -- a stage name that means "turquoise" in Arabic.

For decades, she captivated audiences everywhere from her native Beirut to Las Vegas, including the grand Olympia in Paris and the Royal Albert Hall in London.

She has sung of love, Lebanon and the Palestinian cause, in ballads that have revolutionized Middle Eastern music.

Fairouz is "certainly one of the greatest Arab singers of the 20th century," expert in Middle Eastern music Virginia Danielson told the New York Times in 1999.

When she sang, she appeared as if in a trance: eyes glazed over, expression stoic, small smiles flashing quickly across her face.

"If you look at my face while I am singing, you will see that I am not there, I am not in the place," she told the New York Times in a rare interview.

"I feel art is like prayer."

Fairouz has been dubbed "our ambassador to the stars" by her compatriots -- not just for her celestial voice, but because she is a rare symbol of unity for a country bitterly divided by a 15-year civil war.

‘I love you, oh Lebanon’
Born Nouhad Haddad in 1934 to a working class family, she studied at the national music conservatory as a teenager.

During her time with the Lebanese state radio choir, composer Halim al-Roumi nicknamed her Fairouz and introduced her to composer Assi Rahbani, whom she married in 1955.

Fairouz, Assi, and his brother Mansour revolutionized traditional Arabic music by merging classical Western, Russian and Latin elements with eastern rhythms and a modern orchestra.

Fairouz shot to fame after her first performance at the Baalbek International Festival in 1957.

Her reign as the queen of Arabic music was partly thanks to her championing the Palestinian cause, including "Sanarjaou Yawman" or "We Shall Return One Day", an elegy to Palestinians exiled by the creation of Israel in 1948.

The star is an immortal icon in her native Lebanon.

Many of her most popular songs are nostalgic odes to pastoral times. Others are poems by the likes of Lebanese legends Gibran Khalil Gibran and Said Aql that are set to music.

She has largely disappeared from public life in recent years, but her soaring voice remains ubiquitous, blaring every morning from radios in street cafes and taxis.

"When you look at Lebanon now, you see that it bears no resemblance to the Lebanon I sing about, so when we miss it, we look for it through the songs," the diva told the New York Times.

Fairouz also won national acclaim for remaining in Lebanon throughout the country's civil war from 1975 to 1990, and for refusing to side with one faction over another.

Tens of thousands of people swarmed her first post-war concert, in 1994 in Beirut's downtown.

"I love you, oh Lebanon, my country, I love you. Your north, your south, your valley, I love you," she croons in one of her most well-known songs.

Political, family controversies
Fairouz is famously protective of her personal life.

"When she wants to, she can be really funny. She's also a distinguished chef. Very humble, she loves serving her guests herself," journalist Doha Chams, her press officer, told AFP.

But she hates "the invasion of her private life".

Fairouz had four children with husband Assi Rahbani, who died in 1986.

Their daughter Layal died at a young age of a brain hemorrhage, their son Hali is disabled, and Rima, the youngest, films and produces her mother's concerts.

Her eldest son, Ziad, followed in the footsteps of his father and uncle as a musician and composer.

Fairouz worked closely with Ziad – an iconic artist in Lebanon in his own right -- to compose songs with a jazz influence.

The Lebanese star's recent past has been marked by a string of family and political controversies.

In 2008, when Lebanese political factions were fiercely divided over support for the regime in neighboring Syria, Fairouz performed in Damascus.

Two years later, the Lebanese judiciary prevented her from singing tunes co-written by the Rahbani brothers without the authorization of the sons of her brother-in-law Mansour.

Fairouz spent several years without new material until 2017, when her daughter Rima produced her last album, "Bibali".



Beirut’s Southern Suburb Becomes a ‘Ghost Town’ as Residents Hesitate to Return

The aftermath of Israeli airstrikes on the Lailaki area in Beirut's southern suburbs as seen on Tuesday morning. (Reuters)
The aftermath of Israeli airstrikes on the Lailaki area in Beirut's southern suburbs as seen on Tuesday morning. (Reuters)
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Beirut’s Southern Suburb Becomes a ‘Ghost Town’ as Residents Hesitate to Return

The aftermath of Israeli airstrikes on the Lailaki area in Beirut's southern suburbs as seen on Tuesday morning. (Reuters)
The aftermath of Israeli airstrikes on the Lailaki area in Beirut's southern suburbs as seen on Tuesday morning. (Reuters)

Ali F., 35, refused to enter Beirut's southern suburbs to check on his home after Monday night airstrikes.

“I’m not taking any chances... I'll find out if the building is destroyed eventually,” he said.

He left his home in a rush days ago after Israeli forces warned residents to evacuate.

Now, he’s unsure about returning to collect his belongings.

“No one lives in the building anymore,” he told Asharq Al-Awsat. “If the power cuts while I’m in the elevator, I’ll be stuck, and no one will rescue me.”

Beirut’s southern suburbs were hit overnight after the Israeli military warned residents to leave areas near buildings it said contained Hezbollah infrastructure.

The area has become a “ghost town,” according to a civil defense worker near the area on Monday night, after the Israeli army announced airstrike targets.

Most residents evacuated their homes and moved to safer areas. By Tuesday morning, only a few dozen remained — mostly medics, civil defense workers, and some municipal police officers.

On Monday night, the Israeli army warned residents to evacuate three areas in the southern suburbs: Rweiss near Burj al-Barajneh, Mrayjeh near Lailaki, and Bir al-Abed in Haret Hreik.

The three targeted areas cover a five-kilometer stretch, filled with residential buildings home to tens of thousands.

These neighborhoods have long been the population hub of Beirut's southern suburbs, which have expanded east toward Hadath and south to Choueifat over the past 20 years.

Mona, who lives in Rweiss, questioned the strikes: “What’s in these areas to justify targeting them? Could there really be a weapons depot in a residential building right along the Hadi Nasrallah Highway?”

She was referring to two buildings in Bir al-Abed and Rweiss that were hit near the highway.

“Could a military facility really be under a building where dozens of families live?” Mona believes the Israeli army wants to clear the area, claiming the presence of weapons as an excuse.

The Israeli army said it launched “precision strikes on Hezbollah weapons manufacturing sites and infrastructure in Beirut’s southern suburbs on Monday night.”

Nearby residents endured a difficult night, shaken by loud explosions, watching the developments unfold on TV.

Just before midnight, Israeli warplanes targeted Lailaki, Mrayjeh, Haret Hreik, and Burj al-Barajneh, destroying several residential buildings.

Reports indicated that eight buildings were destroyed in Mrayjeh, along with others not listed on the Israeli evacuation maps.

No casualties were reported from the strikes in the southern suburbs, but Lebanon’s Health Ministry said at least 95 people were killed and 172 injured in Israeli strikes on southern Lebanon, the Bekaa Valley, and Beirut in the past 24 hours.