Druze Pop Star Seeks to Bridge Palestinian and Israeli Divide

Israeli Druze singer Mike Sharif JALAA MAREY AFP
Israeli Druze singer Mike Sharif JALAA MAREY AFP
TT

Druze Pop Star Seeks to Bridge Palestinian and Israeli Divide

Israeli Druze singer Mike Sharif JALAA MAREY AFP
Israeli Druze singer Mike Sharif JALAA MAREY AFP

"Yalla, yalla, raise your hands!" Israeli Druze singer Mike Sharif shouts in Arabic to the Palestinian crowd swaying to a Hebrew hit at a wedding in the occupied West Bank.

The scene, all the more unusual as it took place in Yatta, a Palestinian village near Hebron and site of frequent friction with the Israeli army and Jewish settlers, created a buzz on social networks and local media.

"I had prepared three hours of performance in Arabic only. After half an hour, everyone -- the families of the bride and groom, the guests -- asked me to sing in Hebrew," Sharif, interviewed in the northern Israeli Druze town of Daliat al-Carmel, told AFP.

Nicknamed "the Druze prodigy" after winning a TV competition aged 12, Sharif -- now in his 40s -- rose to fame with his Mizrahi (Eastern) pop songs in the 1990s in Israel, but also in the West Bank, Gaza and Arab countries.

"I have always belonged to everyone," says the self-proclaimed "ambassador of peace" between Israelis and Palestinians.

From the inception of Mizrahi pop, influenced by the Jewish cultures of the Middle East and North Africa, reciprocal influences were established with the music of neighboring Arab territories.

Today, the popularity of artists like Israel's most popular singer Eyal Golan or the younger Eden Ben Zaken reaches well into Palestinian society.

At the same time, the big names in Arabic music -- Oum Kalsoum, Fairuz or Farid al-Atrash -- have long been popular among Israeli Jews.

To Sharif, this musical proximity should make it possible "to unite everyone" and contribute to ending conflicts.

"I sing in Hebrew in Hebron, in Arabic in Tel Aviv and Herzliya. I sing in both languages and everyone sings on both sides," he said.

"Music can contribute to peace. Politics does not bring people together this way."

His Yatta show, however, brought waves of criticism and even threats from both sides, with some Palestinians and Israelis calling him a "traitor" -- the former for singing in Hebrew in the West Bank, the latter for performing at a Palestinian marriage.

And after having said he wanted to be "the first Israeli singer to perform in the Gaza Strip", the territory controlled by Hamas that Israelis may not enter, he abandoned the idea "due to tensions", Sharif said.

Oded Erez, a popular music expert at Bar-Ilan university near Tel Aviv, links the notion of music as a bridge between Israelis and Palestinians to the "Oslo years" of the early 1990s following the signing of interim peace accords.

Jewish singers like Zehava Ben or Sarit Hadad performed songs by Umm Kulthum in Palestinian cities in Arabic, he recalled, but according to the musicologist, this phenomenon collapsed along with the political failure of the Oslo accords.

"This shared investment in shared music and style and sound is not a platform for political change or political reconciliation per se, you would need to politicize it explicitly, to mobilize it politically, for it to become that," he said of current cultural musical exchanges.

Today, the musical affinity between Palestinians and Israelis is reduced to the essential: "more physical and emotional than intellectual", he said.

The request of the Palestinian revellers at the Yatta wedding was "not a demand for Hebrew per se" but rather for Sharif's "hits" from the 80s and 90s, when "his music was circulating" and some songs entered the wedding "canon", Erez said.

The same goes for the title "The sound of gunpowder", written in 2018 in honor of a Palestinian armed gang leader from a refugee camp near Nablus in the West Bank that is played repeatedly at Israeli weddings, Erez said.

"When there is music, people disconnect from all the wars, from politics, from differences of opinion," Sharif said.

"They forget everything, they just focus on the music."



Indian Artisans Tackle Waste with Creative Upcycling

In this photograph taken on September 17, 2024, a person with disability, recycles plastic waste as part of the Avacayam employment program by the Society for Child Development, in New Delhi. (Photo by Sajjad HUSSAIN / AFP)
In this photograph taken on September 17, 2024, a person with disability, recycles plastic waste as part of the Avacayam employment program by the Society for Child Development, in New Delhi. (Photo by Sajjad HUSSAIN / AFP)
TT

Indian Artisans Tackle Waste with Creative Upcycling

In this photograph taken on September 17, 2024, a person with disability, recycles plastic waste as part of the Avacayam employment program by the Society for Child Development, in New Delhi. (Photo by Sajjad HUSSAIN / AFP)
In this photograph taken on September 17, 2024, a person with disability, recycles plastic waste as part of the Avacayam employment program by the Society for Child Development, in New Delhi. (Photo by Sajjad HUSSAIN / AFP)

The world's most populous nation India has a waste problem to match, but one group hopes their efforts can inspire change in one of the top polluters of plastic.

At a bustling workshop north of the capital New Delhi, artisan Ram Babu turns a discarded cigarette packet into a papier mache candle, AFP reported.

Babu, a 28-year-old amputee, is among scores of people with disabilities who have been trained to turn "trash to cash" and do their bit for the environment.

"It feels good to work despite my challenging situation," beamed Babu, as he deftly covered the packet with clay, using sprinkles of water.

Life held little hope for Babu after he lost his right hand and leg in a train accident in 2005.

But he found courage again when he stumbled upon the Avacayam employment program, run by the Society for Child Development, a New Delhi-based charity.

The word "Avacayam" comes from Sanskrit, and roughly translates to "gathering flowers".

Avacayam participants turn orange and yellow flowers that were offered in temples and later gathered up into incense sticks and colored powder used widely in festivals.

They also transform fallen idols of Hindu gods and goddesses -- often left piled under sacred trees -- into sacred powder for temple rituals.

"I have been working for more than 14 years now. My life has found a new direction and purpose," said Babu, who earns 10,000 rupees ($120) a month.

Others like Babu make decorative items, bags and pouches out of recycled waste, which is collected every day at their sprawling center.

Plastic bottles are also reused to make a variety of craft products.

The group's efforts scrape the surface.

In India, municipal governments with limited resources often struggle to manage mountains of waste, with towering piles of foul-smelling rubbish littering the edge of New Delhi.

India generates more than 65 million tons of waste in a year, according to a report by The Energy and Resources Institute, a New Delhi-based research group, but only around a fifth is processed and treated.

A study in Nature published this month named India as the largest plastic pollution emitter, producing nearly one-fifth of global plastic emissions.

Global experts -- including the multi-nation "High Ambition Coalition" -- argue the focus must not only be on waste treatment, but urgently required control measures on plastic production itself.

Charity groups such as Avacayam say they set an example, doing what they can.

"We collect waste and trash from offices, homes and factories," said Madhumita Puri, the founder of the Society for Child Development.

"Then we recycle them to make beautiful things which can be enjoyed again."

Puri said the work also helps people with disabilities live a life of dignity.

Abdul Sheikh, whose legs were stunted by polio, had little means of employment until Puri's charity knocked at his door.

"I learnt that day that we should never lose hope in the face of adversities," said Sheikh, 30, who makes decorative papier mache items.

"Now I don't have to depend on others for anything. I don't have legs but today I am standing on my feet."