 By Patricia
Kubala
In the
ongoing debate about Arabic music video clips that currently engulfs
the cafés and newspapers of Egypt and the rest of the Arab world,
one frequently comes across critics who decry the apparent lack of
diversity and meaningful messages contained in this pop culture
genre. According to this argument, unlike a true form of artistic
expression, the video clip is divorced from political and social
realities, artistically tafih (vapid) or habit
(vulgar), and its only aim is the generation of profit for the
producers and satellite television stations that broadcast them.
Thus, a recent, fairly
typical, critique by the Egyptian political analyst Abdel-Wahab M
Elmessiri entitled "Ruby and the Chequered Heart" begins with the
definition, "A video clip is a short movie comprising a jingle, a
dance, and a dramatic theme. A far cry from the world of song as we
once knew it, it must be said at the outset, for this is all a video
clip comprises."(1) Further along in the piece, in a section
entitled "Outside History," the author asserts that "[t]he video
clip is disassociated from current events," citing the assassination
of Sheikh Ahmed Yassin as a historical moment during which "the
entire nation was enraged, yet [the] video clip churned out cheerful
songs as if nothing had happened."(2) The conclusion of the article
unequivocally condemns the video clip as a disreputable cultural
genre, with Elmessiri warning that "[t]hrough satellite stations,
video clips reach into our homes, mingle with our dreams, reshape
the way we see others and ourselves. Their goal is not to enlighten
us or deepen our understanding of our surroundings -- it's profit.
They are parasitical capitalist enterprises that compete with each
other to make more money, and the end result, rather than enhancing
our sense of beauty or improving our ability to appreciate the arts,
is simply vulgarity and alienation -- the flesh
parade."(3)
Most viewers would
agree that the majority of Arabic music video clips, as Elmessiri
notes, do not aim at lecturing or morally uplifting their audiences,
but rather exist simply for entertainment. A point of clarification
is in order, however, because although Elmessiri refers to the video
clip in such sweeping terms, he is no doubt aware that a degree of
diversity and recognition of social and political realities does in
fact exist in the video clip genre. Numerous examples come to mind,
including the commemorative videos that flooded satellite television
screens after the assassination of former Lebanese Prime Minister
Rafiq al-Hariri and the death of Egyptian actor Ahmed Zaki.
Similarly, on Mother's Day and National Orphan's Day in Egypt this
year, satellite channels made a point of screening videos honoring
mothers and children. During Ramadan of 2004, the sound and sight of
Sami Yusuf's popular religious video clip al-Mu'allim (the
Teacher) filled the airwaves. Nor are the grim and heartbreaking
circumstances of the Palestinians and the Iraqis completely absent,
with video clips such as Ahibbini (Love Me) from Kazem
al-Saher's latest album, set against the backdrop of the 2003 war in
Iraq.
Yet when Elmessiri and
other critics speak of the video clip in such general terms, they
and their audiences know exactly what kind of video clip they are
talking about, for the term "video clip," or "porno clip" as it is
sometimes referred to, has without doubt become a symbol of access
via satellite television stations and the Internet to the previously
inaccessible sexually explicit material that state-controlled
television channels in the Middle East censored and continue to
censor. During an evening seminar organized by the Cairo Opera house
in April 2005 entitled "The Culture of the Video Clip" and featuring
the singer Anoushka, the chairman of the Association of Egyptian
Musicians Hassan Abu al-Sa'ud, and sociologist Dr. 'Azza Karim,
discussion in fact revolved solely around those video clips and
female artists who are widely considered to have crossed the line of
public propriety and respectable artistic presentation in Egypt.(4)
In addition to the
Egyptian intelligentsia of the kind present at the Opera-sponsored
event, a good number of Egyptian viewers are quite sympathetic to
Elmessiri's line of thinking, and it is not the intention of this
article to disagree with his analysis. Rather, my aim is to
juxtapose the discourse of critique surrounding the certain kind of
racy video clip that Elmessiri and most critics are referring to
when they make sweeping condemnations of "the video clip" as a
genre, with reactions to a recent figure -- Sami Yusuf -- who
successfully presents video clips that break out of the mold of "a
jingle, a dance, and a dramatic theme." Through this comparative
analysis, I argue that the wave of critical attacks directed against
the video clip genre in recent years in fact forms part of a larger
cultural debate in Egypt, and indeed in much of the Middle East and
the postcolonial world, as to the proper relationship between art
and society, the mass media and the nation-state, ethics and
technology, the "foreign" and the "authentic." These debates are not
new, but the satellite revolution in the Middle East is once again
bringing these issues to the forefront of public discussion and
concern.
Sami Yusuf: Music as
Message
|
Sami
Yusuf
|
If the video clips
condemned by Elmessiri and others are consumeristic, artless, and
devoid of moral and political consciousness, then Egyptian audiences
and cultural establishment critics alike are embracing the video
clips of the singer and composer Sami Yusuf, a British-born Muslim
of Azeri origin, for their exactly opposite qualities.(5) The title
track of al-Mu'allim, Yusuf's debut album of Islamic songs,
was introduced to Egyptian audiences just before the beginning of
Ramadan 2004 via FM radio stations and the popular satellite music
video channel Melody Hits. This year, Yusuf released a less overtly
religious video clip on the occasion of Mother's Day in Egypt that
also met with the approval of audiences and the press, and his
widespread popularity and respect earned him an invitation from the
Cairo Opera House to perform as a guest artist at its annual concert
of religious music held on the occasion of Mulid al-Nabi (the
Prophet's birthday).
Yusuf is fast becoming
one of the most popular religious singers among Muslims world-wide,
and the particular reasons for his success in Egypt are many.
Islamic religious singing, called inshad in Egypt, has a distinct
cassette market, set of stars, and performance spaces of its own,
and apart from a very few exceptions, the more recent generations of
Egyptian pop singers rarely present religious material, nor do
inshad singers make hip video clips. Sami Yusuf successfully bridged
this gap, deliberately choosing to air his videos on mainstream
Arabic satellite music channels, rather than religious satellite
channels such as Iqra, in order to reach out to the youth and remind
them, through music, of the relevance of the Prophetic message to
their everyday lives. Similarly, stores in Cairo tend to stock his
album next to pop stars like Amr Diab and Sherine, rather than in
the "religious" section next to lectures of preachers and recordings
of more traditional forms of inshad (6).
A trained musician but
not a native Arabic speaker, Yusuf's songs blend English and Arabic
lyrics with Middle Eastern rhythms and melodic themes, and his video
clip al-Mu'allim juxtaposes lyrics in praise of the Prophet
Muhammad with images of a chic young photographer going about his
daily life, working in his studio, behaving kindly to his mother and
the people in his community, and teaching religious lessons to
children. Sami Yusuf's art thus blends a religious worldview with a
mainstream form of entertainment, and in doing so, Yusuf
communicates a personable, accessible expression of the Islamic
faith that is in harmony with the modern world and incorporated into
the mundane activities of daily life. In this, more than one
observer has noted his affinity with the Egyptian preacher Amr
Khaled, who in fact aired Yusuf's videos on his popular show
Sunnaa' al-Hayah (Life Makers).(7) Several tracks from the
album, as well as an advertisement for purchasing the CD, appear on
Khaled's website, and the two participated together in a joint
lecture/concert in London in September 2004 entitled "An Evening of
Reflection."
This collaboration is
revealing, particularly in light of Khaled's views on the role of
the artist in promoting cultural progress (see Amr Khaled's article
on video clips in this issue). Each week on Sunnaa' al-Hayah,
Khaled discusses a different aspect of social reform and encourages
viewers to participate in development projects that will help bring
about a nahda (revival or renaissance) in their communities,
countries, and ultimately, the Islamic umma (nation) as a whole. In
an episode entitled "Culture, Art, Media . . . and Making Life,"
Khaled called upon "gifted young artists to participate with us in
the project of Sunnaa' al-Hayah, and in the project of
progress. There is no rise or progress without you and your
addition; your role, help and support is very important for the
implementation of this progress."(8) Directly addressing the debate
surrounding Arabic music television, Khaled explains that "the
problem of video clips is not only the dissolute words and
movements, but the biggest problem is, in fact, the import of
something that has nothing to do with our own culture. The picture
is Western and the voice is ours…What would the clip look like! It
is useless and aimless. In this way, it is not art that will exalt
the soul; it is directed to desire and impulse… this is the result
of blind imitation."(9) The episode ends with the plea, "I ask all
those who are with us today, please don't accept to wipe the
identity of our nation, preserve our culture and our art."(10)
Sami Yusuf's own public
statements indicate that he shares Khaled's faith in the power of
art to both preserve core cultural identity and promote spiritual
and material progress. His production company is named Awakening
(another common English translation for the word nahda), and
his website describes him as "a devout practicing British Muslim who
sees songs as a means of promoting the message of Islam and
encouraging the youth to be proud of their religion and
identity."(11) In an interview with Islam Online in March
2004, Yusuf stated that "Art (whether it is music, fine art,
drawing, architecture, etc.) has always played a very important role
in introducing the richness and wealth of Muslim civilizations.
Muslims throughout history have been the pioneers of their time and
explored the secrets and mysteries of this world. Among them were
art, music, philosophy, architecture, mosaics, pottery, medicine,
mathematics . . . the list goes on and on. Subhan Allah
(Glory be to God), this is the contribution made to world
civilization at large by the great Ummah (Nation) of Mohammed
(peace and blessings be upon him)."(12)
Yusuf is not without
his critics, some of whom love the music but object to its airing on
"profane" channels such as Melody, and others who criticize the
music itself, even though Yusuf purposefully limited the use of
instruments to percussion on the al-Mu'allim album so as not
to alienate Muslim audiences who consider the use of wind and string
instruments illegal in the eyes of Islamic law.(13) The debate over
the legal status of music in the Islamic tradition is a long and
complicated one, and as a brief glance at the guestbook of Sami
Yusuf's webpage demonstrates, it is still alive and well.(14) Yet
the majority of Muslim Egyptian critics and viewers, who do not
consider listening to music as something contrary to their faith,
seem to welcome Sami Yusuf's voice, lyrics, and video clip images
for their inspirational religious qualities and artistic merit, as
well as for going against the grain. The popular entertainment
weekly 'Ain, for example, featured the singer on its front
page a week before the start of Ramadan in 2004 with the headline,
"Sami Yusuf's Operation Against the 'Porno Clip' Devils" (15). The
corresponding article by Mohammed Faruq described Yusuf's
al-Mu'allim video, irrespective of its religious content, as
an 'amaliyya fida'iyya (resistance operation) against the
kind of performers and songs that usually fill the screens of Arab
satellite music channels. Despite his dislike of censorship, he
writes, "I can't deny the role of Maria, Tina, Negla, Ruby, and Jad
Choueiri in insulting art as a message and a means for promoting
society's morals . . . so the coming days (of Ramadan) have become
the prerogative of stars whose art has a purpose (al-fann
al-hadif), wholesome songs, and Sami Yusuf!"(16) Another
Egyptian admirer, Aida, posted the following note on Yusuf's
website, "I love youre music I think you are such an inspiration to
all muslims an u are the one who got me to put on the hijab
you and amr khaled thank you so much for being a good inspiration to
my life."(17)
The Video Clip and
al-Fann al-Hadif (Art with a Purpose)
Sami Yusuf's admirers,
like Elmessiri and other critics of the video clip, all share an
understanding of the role of art as ideally ideological, uplifting,
and enlightening. In other words, art ought to convey a message,
have a purpose, and be of use. Using this logic, critics of video
clips attack the genre because its "goal is not to enlighten us or
deepen our understanding of our surroundings-it's profit"
(Elmessiri); it is "useless and aimless … not art that will exalt
the soul" (Khaled); and it "insult(s) art as a message and a means
for promoting society's morals" (Faruq). On the other hand, Sami
Yusuf's videos are "an inspiration" (Aida); a "resistance operation"
(Faruq); and "a means of promoting the message of Islam and
encouraging the youth to be proud of their religion and identity"
(Yusuf's website).
In the
post-independence era in Egypt, as in much of the Arab World,
state-run mass media -- radio, television, newspapers, and
subsidized cinema -- became the mouthpiece for expressing the
national aspirations of progress and development that characterized
the 1950s and 1960s. Artists and artistic expression played a large
role in articulating and disseminating these hopes for the building
of a modern Egypt.(18) Yet the political, economic, and social
disappointments since that time, as well as the role of state media
institutions in circumscribing information made available to the
public, have led many Egyptians to feel wary and disillusioned not
only of the rhetoric of progress and development but also of the
mouthpiece of that discourse -- state-run media.(19) The rapid
spread of satellite television in Egyptian homes and public spaces
in the past few years -- in part due to the illegal subscription
companies that have sprouted up in lower-income neighborhoods, as
well as to the decreasing prices of the receiving technology -- is
enabling a substantial portion of the Egyptian public to access
programs and subject matter previously unavailable during the past
half century of state-controlled television. Consequently, the
resulting heyday of remote control options has opened up a Pandora's
Box of questions related to censorship, viewing ethics, and the
proper role and goals of the mass media. Although we lack reliable,
publicly available statistics that detail viewer preferences for
certain channels and programs or for satellite channel profits from
sources such as advertising, viewer calls, and SMS messages, it
seems clear that after years of having little choice but to watch
ideologically oriented broadcasts produced by government
institutions, many audience members are basking in the opportunity
to entertain themselves through viewing private satellite television
channel programming -- be it political, religious, or sexually
explicit -- that is not sanctioned by the state.
In this regard, the
current proliferation of satellite television in Egypt invites
comparison with the spread of cassette tape technology in the 1970s,
which allowed audiences to listen to music and religious sermons not
broadcast over officially sanctioned radio or television. Then as
now, Egyptian establishment critics labeled the brash new music and
lyrics of certain singers, such as Ahmad Adawiyya, that did not
conform to the artistic standards and modernist ideology of previous
generations as "vulgar," "meaningless," and "all about making
money."(20) Yet despite the invisibility of Adawiyya on state-run
radio and television, he become enormously popular through the sale
of cassette tapes, and as Walter Armbrust points out in his book
Mass Culture and Modernism in Egypt, "It is Adawiya's frank
appeal to the masses -- without any of the rhetoric of "raising
their cultural standards" -- that sets him apart from singers backed
by the cultural establishment in print and on television."(21) (See
Walter Armbrust's article on video
clips in this issue.)
Are Ruby, Maria, Jad,
and others of their ilk the Adawiyas of today? Perhaps, yet as the
example of Sami Yusuf demonstrates, a substantial audience exists
that agrees with the critics in their call for art that does not
merely entertain but that does so with a respectable purpose. The
intensity of attacks on the video clip appears to be influencing the
genre, and it seems that a new trend in Arabic pop music is emerging
in which artists are consciously responding to these criticisms and
promoting their songs as respectful of society's values,
message-oriented, and more in tune with their audience's everyday
social circumstances. Thus the Arabic daily Al-Hayat recently
reported that the Lebanese singer Haifa Wahbi, one of the favorite
targets of video clip critics, intends for her upcoming video clip
"to include a 'message' that says to the audience that her songs are
not necessarily without civilized content (madmun insani) and
that her presence in a clip not only conveys physical arousal and
seduction but the communication of a particular message."(22)
As I write in mid-April
2005, the video clip that is the talk of Cairo these days is not the
latest "porno clip" from Boosy Samir but the Bouchra/Mahmoud El
Esseily duet Tabat wi-Nabat (Happily Ever After), a love song
that features a "family-values" oriented story of a new couple
journeying through life together and raising their children. Another
recent song that has sparked a good deal of interest is Haytham
Sa'id's Humma Malhum Bina Ya Leel (What Have They To Do with
Us?) (directed, interestingly, by Sherif Sabri, the director of
Ruby's clips), whose video is the first one in recent Egyptian pop
music memory to feature a chic young love interest wearing the veil.
Set on the Qasr al-Nil bridge, one of Cairo's favorite spots for
young lovers to stroll, the video reflects the socio-economic
realities of the majority of the city's youth far more than the
typical disco-theme videos that are set in fancy nightclubs, villas,
or tourist resorts and feature crowds of dancing, scantily clad
models.(23) The press is responding enthusiastically to these new
developments, with a recent issue of 'Ain, for example,
publishing an article entitled "The CVs of Respectable Video Clip
Singers."(24) As the novelty of racy material aired on satellite
music channels fades, observers of the cultural politics of the
video clip might very well witness in the coming months a new
trajectory in Arabic pop music towards al-fann
al-hadif.
Patricia
Kubala is a graduate student in the Department of Religious
Studies at the University of California, Santa Barbara. She
currently lives in Cairo, where she is studying Arabic at the Center
for Arabic Study Abroad and conducting research for her master's
thesis on the public debate in Egypt surrounding Arabic music video
clips. She may be reached at pkubala@umail.ucsb.edu.
REFERENCES
1. Elmessiri,
Abdel-Wahab M. "Ruby and the chequered heart." Al-Ahram
Weekly, 17-23 March 2005. http://weekly.ahram.org.eg/2005/734/feature.htm.
Originally published in Arabic in the Egyptian government daily
Al-Ahram, the article was translated for publication in the
English Al-Ahram Weekly, from which this quote is
taken.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Critics of the video clip
almost always focus on the bodies of female, rather than male,
entertainers. Readers interested in a historical and anthropological
perspective on the gendered nature of the discourse surrounding
performers in Egypt are referred to Karin van Nieuwkerk's book A
Trade Like Any Other: Female Singers and Dancers in Egypt,
published by the University of Texas Press in 1995.
5. For
readers interested in further information in English on Sami Yusuf,
Al Ahram Weekly published an article on the singer by Dena
Rashed in the November 4-10 2004 edition of the paper (http://weekly.ahram.org.eg/2004/715/feature.htm).
Yusuf's own official website is http://www.samiyusuf.com/.
6. This information was shared with me by Sharif Hasan Al-Banna,
one of Sami Yusuf's team of producers at the Awakening company,
during an interview in Cairo on April 12, 2005.
7. See for
example, Dena Rashed's article mentioned in note 5, as well as
Lindsay Wise's article, "Amr Khaled: Broadcasting the Nahda," from
the Fall/Winter 2004 issue of TBS (TBS 13). Amr Khaled's own
official website is http://www.amrkhaled.net/.
8. The Arabic recordings of these lectures are posted on Amr
Khaled's website, along with translations into English and several
other languages. The website for the English translation of this
particular episode of the Sunna' al-Hayah program, from which
this quote is taken, is http://www.amrkhaled.net/articles/articles406.html.
9. Ibid.
10. Ibid.
11. http://www.samiyusuf.com/biog/index.htm
12.
Elsaman, Soha. "Sami Yusuf: Breaking the Shackles of Bigotry Through
Inshad." Islam Online, March 16, 2004. http://www.islamonline.net/English/ArtCulture/2004/03/article07.shtml
13.
According to al-Banna, Yusuf is planning to release two versions of
his upcoming album, one of which will include orchestral
instruments, while the other will utilize only voice and percussion
in order to meet the listening needs of multiple audiences.
14.
An excellent summary of this debate is found in the third chapter,
"The Sama' Polemic," of Kristina Nelson's book The Art of
Reciting the Qur'an, published by the American University in
Cairo Press in 2001. An example of an entry that speaks directly to
this debate includes Asmaa from Morocco, who posted the following
comment in the guestbook on April 7, 2005, "we like you so much you
have a great voice but do you know the opinion of islam about
music?" Entry #13032, http://www.samiyusuf.com/guestbook/guestbook.php
15.
'Ain, October 7, 2004, no.65.
16. Faruq, Muhammad.
"'Amaliyyat Sami Yusuf didd najamat al-burnu klib." 'Ain,
October 7, 2004, no.65. All of the singers (Maria, Tina, etc.)
mentioned here are frequently invoked by critics of the video clip
as examples of dissolute and vulgar performers. The translation into
English is my own.
17. Aida Arafat, April 8, 2005, #13098, http://www.samiyusuf.com/guestbook/guestbook.php
18.
For a discussion of the role of one artist, Umm Kulthum, the most
widely acclaimed Egyptian and Arab singer of the 20th century, in
symbolizing nationalist aspirations and supporting its causes, see
Virginia Danielson's book The Voice of Egypt: Umm Kulthum, Arabic
song, and Egyptian society in the twentieth century, published
by the University of Chicago Press in 1997.
19. One example of an
article on satellite television than contains this line of thinking
is Yasir Abdel Hafez's piece "Sariq Al-Ka'aba" ("The Thief of
Dejection") in the September 2004 edition of the monthly Egyptian
magazine Sutur.
20. Armbrust, Walter. Mass Culture and
Modernism in Egypt. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996.
In particular, see Chapter 7, "Vulgarity."
21. Ibid, p.
184.
22. "Haifa Wahbi Sahibat Qadiya." Al-Hayat, April 6,
2004. http://www.daralhayat.com/culture/%20music/04-2005/Item-20050405-137da42c-c0a8-10ed-0045-60cf730bef75/story.html.
The translation is my own.
23. Not everyone is enthusiastic about
this video. During my conversion with al-Banna, he mentioned that
Egyptian friends of his wondered if the video's producers were
attempting to capitalize on Sami Yusuf's success at attracting
mainstream audiences with Muslim themes by exploiting the figure of
the veiled young woman. These young men objected to what they viewed
as the video's commodification of the veil and its trivial use to
attract viewers despite the lack of any religious message or content
in the song, whose lyrics and melody resemble those of any number of
romantic video clips.
24. Al-'Ishsh, Abd al-Hamid. "CV mutribi
al-Kilibat al-Muhtarama." 'Ain, April 14, 2005, no.
92.
[printer
friendly version]
|