Notebooks of Fares Joachim: Najah Salam veiled and did not veil
Between theatre, radio, and music, Fares Youachim (1945, Egypt) spent decades of his life accompanying, historian, and participant in the most prominent stations of the Arab art scene in the last century, and witnessing the transformations in the world of art. Al-Arabi Al-Jadeed publishes Joachim’s memoirs with the most prominent Arab artists, producers, directors, and journalists, recalling personal moments and meetings with them in Cairo, Beirut, Paris, and other capitals.
The esteemed singer Najah Salam, who died yesterday, Thursday, at the age of 92, held both Lebanese and Egyptian citizenship, both officially and emotionally. She has two identity cards in her pocket, and two loves in her heart, for Egypt and Lebanon. Its artistic identity bears both Lebanese and Egyptian characteristics as well. She sang in both dialects, and with great melodies from Beirut and Cairo.
She was born in Beirut in 1913, and converted to Islam in 2023. There she had her first upbringing, in an ancient house in Lebanese society. Among them is former Prime Minister Saeb Salam (1905-2000). Her grandfather is the Mufti of Lebanon, Abdul Rahman Salam, and her father, Mohieddin Salam, is one of the most prominent oud players, and he was her first teacher who taught her music and explained the arts of performance to her. Later, when she became a professional singer, he composed the songs “Ya Layali Al Fan” and “Supplications” for her.
Najah Salam had a strong, warm, and malleable voice that was capable of various melodies. This is a gift given to her. But her proficiency in singing made her worthy of the title of singer. She sang different Lebanese colors, and appeared in Egyptian songs as if she were Bint Shubra. She also sang poems in the classical language, and she was fluent in the Arabic language. She sang patriotic songs, as well as emotional songs. She sang Amin Taqi Al-Din’s poem “God, Lebanon, how beautiful you are” (composed by Khaled Abu Al-Nasr), and Amjad Al-Atafi, her daughter Samar’s husband, composed for her: “Lebanon, O Pearl of the East” and “Qana.”
She sang 26 verses of the poem “Palestine” by Paul Salama (out of 319 verses), composed by Najib Al-Sarraj. I couldn’t hear the song, but I was sure that Najah Salam sang it. When I began writing my book “Stories of Songs,” I turned to Najah Salam to ask her, and I was surprised by her strong memory, as she immediately recited to my ears the verses she had sung sixty years ago.
When Egypt was subjected to the tripartite aggression in 1956, she was residing in Cairo, so she took the initiative to record a patriotic song, poetry by Mahmoud Hassan Ismail and composed by Riad Al-Sunbati, “I am the Nile, a graveyard for invaders.” When unity was concluded between Egypt and Syria, she sang: “I Want a Groom,” written by Muhammad Salman and composed by Afif Radwan. With both of them, she cooperated and sang: “Oh bird, oh bird/ Take the good news/ from Egypt and run/ against Algeria” at the height of the Algerians’ struggle to gain independence. After the October War of 1973, Muhammad Jamal and Muhammad Salman participated in the anthem “Syria, My Love” (words and melody by Muhammad Salman). This anthem gained such fame that it became more like a competitor to the national anthem. This is also the case with her song “Oh, the sweetest name in existence, O Egypt,” which resides in the hearts of every Egyptian man and woman. This was written by Ismail Al-Habrouk, and composed by Muhammad Al-Muji, who had previously dedicated the melody to it, “How Sweet I Sing After Bullets, I Don’t Speak,” and it was composed by Salah Jaheen.
Najah Salam’s fame began from the Lebanese capital, Beirut, with a song with a Bedouin character, “Hawwal Ya Ghannam” (words and composed by Elia El Matni), then she launched with Lebanese songs, and her voice harmonized in particular with the melodies of three talented people: Philemon Wehbe, Afif Radwan, and Sami Al-Sidawi, who composed “Ya Ghazayel Mail.” And “Oh, you hurt my heart.” As for Afif Radwan, in addition to patriotic melodies, he devoted it to well-known songs, including “Ghazali,” “Ya Zarif al-Toul,” and “Click Ya Daf,” which three people participated in performing: Najah Salam with Nasri Shams al-Din and Muhammad Salman. As for Philemon Wehbe, he is the composer of many of Najah Salam’s songs, including “Barhoum Hakaina,” “The Dark Young Man Janni,” “Wadela, Salami, O Bird of Pigeons,” “Download Your Eyes, Hakaina” (a duet with Muhammad Salman), and the song “Al-Qatar.” “He came and my love did not come.” I sang it in the Egyptian dialect in 1948 as if it was a prelude to entering the field of Egyptian singing.
In Cairo, she recorded for “Beydaphone” the song “Hawwal Ya Ghannam” and the song “Oh My Heart’s Hurt.” Najah Salam quickly gained the admiration of major composers, and Riad Al-Sunbati was her favorite, and she said that she learned new performing arts from him. Al-Sunbati presented her with different melodies, including “Bow, O History” and “O My Oppressor” (From the Magic of Your Eyes). His tune, “I Want Your Answers,” remains at the top of her song list, and has gained wide fame throughout the Arab world.
I will suffice with mentioning a song composed by each creator: “Oh Candlestick of Our Neighborhood” by Kamal Al-Tawil, “What’s the Story” by Mounir Murad, “Hasib Don’t Blame Me” by Baligh Hamdi, “Zanoba” by Farid Al-Atrash (this was sung by Sabah in the movie How Can I Forget You) and when recording the CD, Farid dedicated Al-Atrash tunes to Najah Salam. And from Zakaria Ahmed, she sang “Bint Karam, orphaned by her.” Mohamed Al-Moji is the composer of her song “Ya Malek Albi”, written by the poet Ahmed Mkhaimer. Years later, Prince Abdullah Al-Faisal composed a poem bearing the same beginning, and of the same poetic meter, which allowed Muhammad Al-Muji to repeat the same melody, but in the voice of Abdul Halim Hafez. With the melody of Sayed Makkawi, she sang “Qalb’s Prayer,” and Karem Mahmoud dedicated the melody of “Subh Al-Sabah” to her.
It caught my attention that in this record full of names of poets and composers, I only found one song composed by the great musician Mohamed Abdel Wahab, which is the song “Sikkat Al-Saada”, and its fame is less than its counterparts. This is despite his great admiration for her voice and ability to perform, and I heard his praise from him. He mentioned that Najah Salam is a singer, and commented, “Wadi is a higher level than a singer,” and added that she can perform various maqams and move between them with complete ease. From the singer, I heard great praise and expressions of frank admiration for what she called “the professor of masters in composition and performance.” I missed asking the musician of generations and the singer of Lebanon and Egypt why the orphan cooperation was not repeated.
I thought that Najah Salam did not sing the tunes of the Rahbani brothers. I was visiting her, and she corrected my suspicions. She said that the cooperation took place in the beginning, at the beginning of her and their journey. In 1950, I sang one of their tunes, “Waqf, Take Me with Your Otombelik.” She doubled my surprise by saying that she also sang one of their tunes, “Shabak Al-Hawa,” and this was a “duet” that she performed with Nasri Shams Al-Din.
Wadih Al-Safi was one of her most prominent friends, on the artistic and humanitarian levels. They both admired each other. There are recordings available on social media channels that include wonderful joint recordings of them. In 1965, Wadih Al-Safi produced the operetta “Nahr Al-Wafa” and starred opposite Najah Salam. At this festival, she sang songs composed by Wadih Al-Safi: “I know, you used to love us,” “Helwa and Ghandoura,” and a duet composed by Walid Gholmieh, in which Wadih Al-Safi participated with her, “O River of Lofa, We Have Returned.”
She participated in performing songs from various Arab Gulf countries, the most famous of which is “Ya Reem Wadi Thaqif,” which is by Tariq Abdel Hakim, and he also sang it with his own voice. In addition to those previously mentioned, she also sang Shawam tunes: from Syria, she sang in her beginnings the melody of Amir al-Buzouk Abdul Karim, “The Delicacy of Your Hassan and Samarak,” then from Muhammad Mohsen, the melody of “Dinars,” and from Lebanon, the melody of Muhammad Jamal, “Our Worlds,” and “Muhtar Qalbi.” And from Salim Al-Helou, “On the Lala,” and from Shafiq Abu Shakra, “O Image of the Beloved,” and from Nicola Al-Manni, “On Your Stage, O World,” and from Hassan Ghandour, “Good Love, Good.”
Najah Salam Mohamed Salman was married twice, including divorces. The first marriage was in 1955. He is her only certain love. Father of their two daughters, Samar and Reem. Despite the divorce, relations between them remained good, thanks to the two daughters’ love for each other, and thanks to the many shared memories, in Egyptian and Lebanese films, and in songs and chants. She also later married Fouad Muqbel and Adnan Al-Ali, but she only had Samar and Reem.
She was a skilled oud player, quick-witted, and always good at jokes.
In the 1950s, musical films flourished in Egyptian cinema, and the stars of Lebanese film heroines Nour al-Huda, Sabah, and Najah Salam shone. Her cinematic debut was in 1952 in the movie “How Are You” (directed by Helmy Rafla) alongside Tahiya Karioka, Laila Fawzi, and Mohsen Sarhan, then in films in which she co-starred with comedy star Ismail Yassin: “Ibn Dawat,” “A Dozen of Tissues,” and “A Dozen of Tissues.” “When the World Laughs,” “The Charming Competitors,” and “Nobody Takes Anything From It,” and in this latest film, Muhammad Salman also participated in acting and singing. “The Devil” was her last Egyptian film. She starred in it in 1969 with Farid Shawqi and Shams Al-Baroudi, and it was directed by Mohamed Salman.
Najah Salam returned to Lebanon in the late fifties, and Mohamed Salman directed his first Lebanese film in 1958, “The First Melody,” starring Wadih Al-Safi. Then in 1960, she starred in the film “In Her Heart is Fire,” with Nozha Younes and Issam El-Shenawy, and then a group of films. Directed by Muhammad Salman, the most prominent of which are: “Hello, Love,” with Samia Jamal and Abdel Salam Al-Nabulsi, and “Oh Peace be upon Love,” in which Fahd Ballan, the great Iraqi singer Nazim Al-Ghazali, and the rising Lebanese comedian star at the time, Hassan Alaa, participated for the first time in cinema. Religion (Shushu). In the movie “Omar Al-Mukhtar,” directed by Mostafa Akkad, Najah Salam participated in singing.
After the civil war broke out in Lebanon in 1975, Najah Salam went to Cairo, and remained there until 2010. But she visited Beirut frequently. In one of them, specifically in 1993, she received the Lebanese National Cedar Medal with the rank of Commander, awarded to her by President Elias Hrawi (1926 – 2006). On her chest, she carried other Lebanese and Arab medals, most notably the “Algerian Martyr” medal, which is only awarded to figures who had an impact in supporting the Algerian struggle for independence. Najah Salam spent the last years of her life in Beirut, and was overcome by spiritual tendencies. She wore the hijab in 2000, and said, “The veil is not the veil.” She stayed close to people.
