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".



South Lebanon Man Cares for Pets Left Behind as Residents Flee Israeli Strikes

In this photo provided by Mashala Shelter, Hussein Hamza feeds dogs at his animal shelter in Kfour, south Lebanon in 2024. (Mashala Shelter via AP)
In this photo provided by Mashala Shelter, Hussein Hamza feeds dogs at his animal shelter in Kfour, south Lebanon in 2024. (Mashala Shelter via AP)
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South Lebanon Man Cares for Pets Left Behind as Residents Flee Israeli Strikes

In this photo provided by Mashala Shelter, Hussein Hamza feeds dogs at his animal shelter in Kfour, south Lebanon in 2024. (Mashala Shelter via AP)
In this photo provided by Mashala Shelter, Hussein Hamza feeds dogs at his animal shelter in Kfour, south Lebanon in 2024. (Mashala Shelter via AP)

A dog clings to Hussein Hamza inside a car as he pans his camera around to show the aftermath of an Israeli airstrike in southern Lebanon.
“Poor thing. Look at this, he’s clinging to me out of fear,” Hamza says in the video he posted online. “A missile hit here,” he said, his voice shaking.
As Israel pummels southern Lebanon with airstrikes, tens of thousands of residents are fleeing their homes in fear. But Hamza is staying. His mission is to care for the dogs and other animals left behind.
He runs an animal shelter that houses 200 dogs in the village of Kfour. Recently, he has also been driving around towns and villages in the south, looking for stray animals and abandoned pets to feed, The Associated Press reported.
“I opened bags of food and left them water. I’m relying on God,” said Hamza as he spread food hundreds of meters away from the shelter he runs, in case the dogs need to escape the facility when airstrikes come too close.
With his town under constant bombardment, Hamza, 56, refused to abandon the animals in his care.
Despite the danger, Hamza drives around looking for stray animals and pets left behind by families, many of them abandoned behind locked gates. He brings them food, and then posts the videos online.
“Come here, come here! I got you food,” Hamza called to a dog hiding behind a fence in one of his online videos. “At least unleash your dogs,” he pleads with residents in his videos. “The dog owners had to escape on foot and couldn’t take them.”
In the midst of the chaos, Hamza has become a lifeline for many who reach out to him, hoping he can get food to their pets.
“This nice man called me, crying. They (the family) left the dogs behind the fence, and they couldn’t take them,” he said. “I just got the dogs dry food.”
Hamza’s journey has been perilous. On more than one occasion, he’s narrowly avoided airstrikes.
His work extends beyond dogs. “We found a chicken on the road,” Hamza explained in another clip. “It flew from a pickup truck. I will take it home.”
Hamza’s shelter has attracted support online, allowing him to buy 200 bags of dog food to distribute to the dogs in the region.
Even so, the danger keeps mounting. “I hope someone can take some load off my shoulders,” Hamza said as he picked up an elderly stray dog off the street and into his car.
“God help people. At the time of a strike, people lose it and don’t know what to do,” he said while dropping off food and water in remote areas.