In this episode of Tarwida, we talk to Palestinian singer Rola Azar, whose music beautifully balances the past and present, blending the traditional with the modern. For Rola, music isn’t just art—it’s life. She shares memories of growing up in Nazareth, where she’d lose herself in the melodies of the city’s neighborhoods, learning not just to sing but to uncover the stories behind the songs. Join us as Rola reflects on her journey, the power of music in preserving Palestinian identity, and what inspires her to carry Palestine in every note.
This episode is hosted by Tala Elissa. Tarwida’s lead producer is Tala Elissa and it is co-produced by Lobna Monieb. Our executive producer is Zina Jardaneh. Social media by Leen Karadsheh. Research by Nadia Roeske. Branding by Sara Sukhun. Theme music includes excerpts from Clarissa Bitar, The Popular Art Centre - مركز الفن الشعبي & Rim Banna.
This episode was recorded on 2nd of October, 2024 and is conducted in Arabic. For our non-Arabic-speaking listeners, you can find an English transcript through this link.
Tarwida is a series of conversations that bring Palestinian arts, culture and heritage to the forefront. We hear from artists including writers, filmmakers, musicians, architects, culinary practitioners and more about their very own Palestine.
In a nutshell, if you want to know more about (Creative) Palestine, this is the place to be.
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Just like Palestinian women used tarwidas, our guest today uses song and music to deliver messages. As some of you already know, tarwidas are lullabies that Palestinian women began using to send secret messages to prisoners, by chanting the lyrics and inserting symbols.
Rola Azar is a Palestinian singer and musician from Al-Nasirah (Nazareth), whose captivating voice has found a home in folklore. But she’s not afraid to modernise traditional songs to make them more relevant to today’s time and age. Rola was academically and musically trained at the Jerusalem Academy of Music and Dance. Her dedication to preserving and revitalising Palestinian folk music has made her a prominent figure in the genre.
This episode was recorded on the 2nd October, 2024. Hosting this time is our producer, Tala El-Issa. The conversation will be in Arabic. For our non-Arabic speaking listeners, an English transcript is available in the episode description.
I am your host, Tala El-Issa, and you are listening to Tarwida.
T: Rola Azar, I am personally very very excited to chat to you today, and thank you for being with us on Tarwida.
R: My dear, I am very excited to be on Tarwida!
T: Let me start by saying that, genuinely, your energy is really wonderful and it really gives you hope in life - even before you speak, I don’t know you have this kind of energy—
R: Ah my dear—
T: I don’t know if you believe in the science of energy, but—
R: I am “leibi2ah” of the science of energy, but, I mean, thank you. And I hope I am spreading a good thing in the world because, right now, all our headspaces are terrible right now.
T: Yes, yes, we need it, I mean, really.
R: For sure.
T: Rola, if we want to start with you from zero, tell us, if only briefly, how you started singing and when?
R: Okay, I— from what I remember of life, I have been singing from when I was born. I used to sing with my Dad when I was little, my Dad was also a committed artist, and he also sang for the homeland and he, actually, did it as a free service, not as a job, I mean, you know when a person’s circumstances are more restrictive, he has kids and he has to seriously work, so he switches to a job that has nothing to do with art just so that he can make a living. I collapsed to be honest, I could feel his sadness and his intense pain, and I kept it in my heart so much that every time I did something, it was proof to my father that, ‘look, I am capable’ and, ‘huh, I am capable.’ It was like every step I took, I felt like he was shocked. Did you know that my Dad, he was against me learning music, for example, because—
T: Because he did not want you to go back and experience what he went through
R: Exactly, he did not want me to go through what he went through. And I was always head on head with him, “I want to learn music, I’ll show you” (laughs) So it was like that, time and time and time again, and despite the extent to which he didn’t want me to learn music, I can say that my number one supporter in life is my Dad, and my Mum, but it’s my Dad even more.
T: So you were raised in a family of artists but also the neighbourhood you were in had lots of artists— I remember in a previous interview of yours, that your neighbours were Trio Joubran
R: Trio Joubran, yes, sending them greetings, our neighbours to the front of our house, —
T: Yalla, hopefully we can meet them soon! But did this have an effect on you?
R: I mean, I do not deny that when I was small I would stay standing at their window and, being honest
T: Yes, yes, spill the secrets!
R: If I’m honest, I would even see the artist Hatem, their father the artist Hatem Joubran, he would make ouds. I also remember he had birds, and he made ouds, and I would be kind of hidden watching. I think he could see me but he let me be, and I would stay there, like, for half a day, watching him. And we also have our neighbour’s son, his name is Luay, I also send him a salute, he is an incredible pianist. I would pretend I was taking out the trash just so I could find a reason to stay and listen. You know, I wanted to listen and chill and, you know, my neighbourhood is not at all chill! And it was like, piano music coming down [from the window], Beethoven and I’m there like, [listening].
T: Wait, (laughing), why isn’t your neighbourhood chill? Tell me about your neighbourhood.
R: (laughing): My neighbourhood is a ghetto! My neighbourhood is the loveliest neighbourhood in the world. Uh, the vibes we were raised in— we were mixed, you know, we didn’t have this, ‘what are your beliefs, what’s your religion?’ Generally, we in Palestine, I mean this question doesn’t exist.
T: ‘Mixed’ you mean Arabs, without, um [Israelis]—
R: No, I’m from Nazareth. Nazareth is only Arabs - it is not mixed. I’m talking about religions. Even Ramadan iftars, we would spend all together, Christmas, all together, I mean that is how I remember my childhood.
T: How nice.
R: But in it [our neighbourhood], there is a lot of action.
T: Ah, so not Beethoven.
R: No, that and Beethoven had nothing to do with each other. You know, if people came over to our house, they would keep getting frightened but we would just be sitting, to us it was normal. We even got to a point where we were able to guess what type of weapons are being shot whilst you’re sitting at home.
T: Oof, oof.
R: It’s often, you know Arab neighbourhoods— Arab neighbourhoods all belong to mafias. Funded by the state. So you hear gunfire and you hear fights and nobody comes to rectify it, or—
T: And Luay is in the midst of it playing
R: And Luay is in the midst of it playing Beethoven! (Laughs) In his own world!
T: But I guess that environment leaves a big impression on any artist, so how do you feel Nazareth and Jerusalem— I mean you reminded me before that Jerusalem has a very important place in your life—
R: Yes
T: How did these two places imprint on your work?
R: The two cities, and the environment I was in, I mean it’s not necessarily the case that if you are in Nazareth you are in the same environment as me. I said I will go and study in Jerusalem in The Academy for Music and I did not study in The Academy for Music – it was Jerusalem that taught me.
T: Mmm.
R: It was Jerusalem alone that taught me, to be honest. My experiences in Jerusalem— how could I see Nazareth, which was a world away, we were not accustomed to seeing soldiers amongst us, usually, in Nazareth. I mean, there isn’t that friction. But in Jerusalem, I mean, oof! Suddenly, I am a teacher alone. I, my neighbour, dressed in normal clothes, carries an M-16 and a revolver and he says hello to me and I’m like, ‘Oh…okay hello…’ I mean like, what’s up with that? Besides, of course, that I saw the occupation, through the fact that I studied in the area of Isawiya in Jabal Mukkabir, I studied in the Old City. So, when you see and live the occupation more, and you feel it in your day to day life, it happens that what you are singing, it becomes you. Like, do you understand what I’m trying to explain to you?
T: Mm.
R: I mean, obviously I feel it, and my Dad would sit and explain it all to me, and explain the stories and what happened— he explained it all to me. Um, my Mum as well— my grandfather was a refugee from Maaloul, so it was really a part of my atmosphere. But what continued it, what expanded this character, was Jerusalem. And honestly, not one time in my life, did I feel at home, even in Nazareth, I did not feel at home. The one place I ever felt at home was Jerusalem.
T: Why?
R: I don’t know. I don’t know. My whole personality was crystallised in Jerusalem. I mean, my personality, like, okay— from when I was small until I was 18, you can change, you understand? You are still malleable. But what cemented that malleability was Jerusalem.
T: Rola, you said in a previous interview that art is resistance. How?
R: Art is resistance because, I always say, when you want to learn about a people, any people, whether they exist or not, the first thing you look to is music, films, their theatre, uh, dance— culture generally— their food– what do they eat? We, praise be to God, they [israelis] are trying to steal everything, so even food, truly everything. So if you, today, I mean, you don’t have this envy of your heritage, I don’t know what you are. So, I get really envious of my heritage, a lot a lot, and I fear that it will be erased. So what I know how to do— I sing. So, I resist with my voice. So, in the end, music is resistance. Whether with or without me— because, as I grew to love the [Palestinian] cause through songs, and which made me understand the cause more, because I am not someone who, when I was younger, would put the news on Al Jazeera and listen, politics didn’t really speak to me. So, from when I was little, the thing that appealed to me was music. For example, I learn more myself when I have mothers messaging me, telling me their children have memorised my songs, and there are lots of the young generation that listen to my music. So this, for me, is like, ‘ah!’ So, yes, of course it is resistance, no doubt. Resistance comes in many forms and art, in my opinion, is the most important of these.
T: Mhmm. And you, of course, focus in your art on folklore, on the revival of folklore, so tell us why, in your opinion, folklore is important. I mean, you just said that it is because it is your identity, but, I mean, what happens when—
R: I mean, honestly, honestly, since I was born all I have known is folklore.
T: Mhmm.
R: Meaning since I was little I have not listened to ordinary [music], I mean I didn’t listen to normal songs. I did, I mean, I did, of course, listen to everything, and we had those music channels, but the overwhelming atmosphere of my family was folklore songs from Nazareth, the songs that carry particular causes, stories. This does not cancel out that I also like to make other music, that I also sing, not just folkloric music— For example, even the original music that I create, there is music that reflects the reality that I live so that I am able to relay my story, and I have music that I make because I like making it. I mean, I also have romantic songs, and I will make more romantic songs because we are not just the occupation - Palestine is more beautiful than the occupation. And we can sing for the good, we can sing for joy, we can sing for celebrations, but I feel that I have a responsibility to—you know when somebody takes something from you and you begin to want it more?
T: Yes
R: That is how folklore is to me. (Laughs)
T: Yes and to me. And mashallah on our stubbornness, us Palestinians.
R: I mean, every time I actually say that I— before the war [on Gaza] I had a release on October 12th for a new song called ‘outside the country’. It is honestly something revolutionary that talks about Germany and that exile is truly something unpleasant. But, I was unable to release it because the war started and I felt as though there was an urgent call, “leave now”. I had made about 7 songs, I swear, all of them——
T: You stopped [their release]
R: —hip hop and, actually, I had changed paths - I thought it was important to change paths because, also, the art that I sing, (unfortunately to this day), they silence it as much as they can.
T: Mm.
R: A lot, and not just by them [israel], by the whole world. I mean today, when I make a song, so that I can upload it to YouTube— you don’t understand the things that are said to us. That, “no, because it’s religious’ or “no, because it’s—“. There are many restrictions on revolutionary songs, but what do I know, it’s enough. I like to make other songs but it’s like the war pulled me back; I am not living here to eat and drink and sleep and sing until I die. I want to live through my music. And honestly I do it from my heart without thinking, ‘why?’. Every time I go to the studio or every time someone asks me to sing a tune, I naturally find myself singing folklore. So this path chose me, I didn’t choose it.
T: And it shows, I mean it shows so much when you sing, that you sing from your heart. And truly, when we try to rationalise things sometimes, we rob them of their magic.
R: Mm.
T: But on the subject of singing, come, hum us a little tune.
R: Should I hum you a little something like what we sing in Nazareth?
T: Let’s do it
R: [Sings]
T: Wow! You gave me chills.
R: Oh my darling. This folklore is specific to Nazareth. They are Levantine songs, given that we were the ‘Levant’ but, for example, the people of Nazareth are, to this day, known in their rituals and traditions, to always gather and sing these songs. Whether, for example, we have a wedding and are wrapping vine leaves, or if we have a get together, or we are coming home from an evening outing and are happy, we sing these Nazarene songs.
T: Lovely. You know, you reminded me of when I was in school, I was in a dabke troupe, and it really shaped me, like, I really really felt that this thing took me back to Palestine when I was living in Jordan, in Amman. But there were many songs that touched me that I didn’t understand the meaning of. I mean, if we want to also talk about that I felt in my heart but I didn’t necessarily understand consciously.
R: Mm.
T: But do you feel that it is also important that we understand the story behind these songs, or is it important, like you said, that it touches us? Because, again, if we rationalise these things and begin to dissect them verse by verse, like we said, we strip the song of its magic.
R: I would say, for me, it is very important that we understand what we are singing. Now, it’s not essential for every song to have some grand historical story, you know? But the songs that have stories, it’s really nice to understand them so you feel them more and, actually, you sing them better. So, as was my luck, I had my Dad to teach me—
T: To translate for you—
R: And not just to translate for me! To insist that I pronounce every letter correctly!
T: Yes, yes.
R: (Laughing) I swear, I used to be humiliated. But I also have my Dad’s cousin, my Uncle Fahed Saffour, to whom I send my greetings, he is an Arabic teacher, and a person who is very attached to the Arabic language, to the point that it was forbidden that we— for example, we are not allowed to talk about Fayrouz as “Fayrouz”, [it is] “Ms Fayrouz”. We are forbidden from saying a single word of Hebrew in our speech, and I like him [Uncle Fahed] very much. So he used to come to my concerts when I was little, and I’m talking about when I was 19, and he would bring his notebook with him. I swear he used to bring pen and paper and sit next to my father and they would take notes. He even used to note down what shoes I was wearing and if they were suitable or not! And if I pronounced the letter ’N’ in whichever song correctly or not. And he would come over the next day at eight a.m. and begin raining down their criticisms on me, or telling me where I messed up. At first, I would get irritated like, ‘come on, enough’ but then I came to understand the importance of it. That if you, today, really feel what you are singing, believe me it comes across faster.
T: Yes
R: Like, you, today, do not need a refined voice and a voice that is, like, ‘wow’ all that for you to convey your message. The Sheikh Imam, let’s take him as an example, Sheikh Imam is no Umm Kulthum, but his message is clear and well-communicated. When I tell you that, “if the Sun drowned in the sea”, it’s like there’s an attitude in his singing that he understands — he explains the lyrics to you more than he is just dominating over it. So it’s—
T: You’re right
R: So when you understand something, it’s different to when you just sing it.
T: So, what was the most scathing criticism you got from your Dad and [your Uncle]—
R: Oh! (Laughing)
T: Ahh we could do a whole podcast episode! (Laughs)
R: Ooh! Once when I was little I was singing ‘Yamma mwel el hawa’ (Mum, sing to the wind), and this is a moment I will never forget in my life! Maybe my Dad has forgotten it but I cannot forget it! So I— The word ‘al-nadhil’ (the scoundrel) in Nazareth used to be a loaded word, I mean, we couldn’t say it. And it goes ‘darb il-khanajer wa la hokm al-nadhil fiyya’ (I’d rather be stabbed by daggers than live under the rule of a scoundrel)
T: Mm, mm.
R: Meaning I would rather be stabbed than ruled by these people, if we understand the song ‘yamma mwel el hawa’. So I am singing along after my Dad, ‘hokm al-nazil* fiyya’ [*she deliberately mispronounces this word] because I was embarrassed to say ‘the scoundrel’ in front of my Dad… I took an absolute bollocking! He said to me, “WHAT?!”
T: (Laughing) “Here we say it, my daughter, here we say it!”
R: He said to me, “What did you say?” I said, “al-nazil”. So I got scared that he thought that I cursed. I told him, “al-nazil”. He said, “al-nazil? Al-nadhil!” I thought, “oh, okay, so I’m allowed to say it, okay”.
T: If it’s about them [the occupation], it’s allowed.
R: So, my Dad was really—I mean, seriously, I used to get really scared. Even now, whenever I sing in front of my Dad I feel like there’s some great responsibility hanging over me.
T: So, what was your father’s opinion on the romantic songs that you’ve now begun thinking about and that you already released?
R: I mean, there was one I made that he literally couldn’t stand (laughs) He even started teasing me about it relentlessly, I remember. But no, generally speaking, he likes what I do.
T: He encourages you.
R: But one time I chose to switch things up and I released something but it really didn’t feel/seem like me. But it didn’t matter, you know, I tried it out and I do not regret anything. But yes, he honestly teases me a lot! (Laughs) So, yeah. But I—
T: So, tell me a little bit about—
R: But I wanted to just tell you—it’s not that my Dad is against romantic songs, it’s not that, it’s because I made something that really was nothing like me. Soon, I’m going to release some things that really are a continuation (of me and my work). I’m going to make some, not necessarily romantic songs, that I have to label as romantic, but I am going to release some music that is a continuation of my work and path. It will be similar to—inshallah my Dad will like it! (laughs)
T: I, personally, as Tala, really enjoyed ‘Merci Beaucoup’.
R: Hahahaha that’s the one my Dad couldn’t stand!
T: Hahaha, I thought so! Listen, I really liked it, and, it was normal that after listening to it, I listened to ‘ajras al-‘awda’ (the bells of return).
R: Really?
T: I had no problem with it! I embodied the character of the critic and then I embodied the character of the lover, where’s the problem?
R: You didn’t feel that there was, like, a big difference? Or was it fine?
T: Listen, you reminded me of a concert I saw of Julia Boutrous’. I remember thinking it felt a little disjointed, but after the show I decided that it wasn’t actually disjointed at all, it was the opposite, it was balanced and whole. And, at the time, I really felt that having a patriotic revolutionary song and then a love song— I didn’t understand what she wanted from us, but then I realised that it was the opposite - this complexity is a sensation we experience every day.
R: I mean listen, if we are the champions of a cause, this doesn’t mean we are prisoners of a cause - we are the champions of the [Palestinian] cause and we are not trapped by it. It would be an honour to be a prisoner for our cause, but I mean that there are things we also like to do. There are songs I would have loved to create but the circumstances of our country did not allow me to release them, or the state of affairs pulled me back, “No, come back, we need you”. So, no, there are many things I would love to do that are very different to what I am doing–-it’s not that they’re completely removed, they are still a continuation of my work, but the style is different. Recently, for example, I mean now I have my album release which blends folklore with modern music.
T: Rola, you are doing something very important and that is the revival of cultural traditions and the renewal of folklore, but this is a very dangerous matter—it’s dangerous and I’m sure there are people with criticisms and, you know, we sometimes put this heritage in a museum and leave it in museums to stay as it us forever. So, when someone comes along wanting to reproduce and revive it, many questions are raised. So, tell us a bit about this process.
R: Okay. I want to say that I used to be one of those people, who was against the revitalisation of folklore and that said “no”— it’s not that I criticised anyone, but I felt that it was very heavy— what do you mean, like, no this is folklore - we should preserve it, yes we should preserve it as it is, but we should not keep living in a time gone by. I mean, what I’m trying to say is I went through a phase where I stopped listening to new music—I was bitter about music—I also went through a phase where I stopped accepting it, I was unable to accept it. Like, what is this? Why is it like this? What are you talking about, what? What is this music and what are you talking about?
T: If our ancestors came back from the dead and saw what was happening!
R: I swear! Our story and the quality of music and the quality of, I mean, this autotuning, so exaggerated, and everything got so—I mean, for me, if someone were to autotune me I would consider it a betrayal! When someone studies music, they kind of live in a box—and I’m not saying this is a good thing by the way, I am not saying that I was right, or that I was wrong— it was a stage in my life—
T: A certain perspective
R: Yes, a perspective in my life that when I looked back, I thought, “no, actually, I ultimately do sing for this generation, I do not just sing for the generation of our struggle that has passed on.” We have a generation growing up now. And If the old generation passes on, and we don’t want to renew and revive [our music] for the new generation, to keep their ears attuned to it in what they listen to then, yes, our heritage will be erased.
T: You’re right.
R: So if I want to keep taking old recordings and covering them exactly as they are today, they won’t really appeal or speak to this generation - they don’t even really speak to me, because even my taste has changed. And my taste, from one phase to another— it’s not about my taste, it’s about what you expose your ears to, what you choose to play, to do
T: Mm what you listen to.
R: So when you discover new music— and I went back to listen to what new music is on the scene, I thought, let’s see what’s going on. There’s some good stuff, to be honest, there are songs I didn’t used to like which I loved. There are songs I accepted more, and I subconsciously made an entire album of, what, 11-12 songs? Reimagined folklore which you could even play in a nightclub! I even wanted to reach those people, because the message reaches people faster and more clearly, and it matches their taste. I cannot keep on doing things the hard way - I had been doing them the hard way. But it’s okay, I accept it if someone comes to me, for example, and says “why have you defaced our culture like this?!” if I make something new and someone critiques it, I’m not against it. It’s fine, I will explain it to them; I was in that same mindset once.
T: Of course. Now, in your opinion, is there a red line you will not cross that if you did would be completely unacceptable?
R: With our heritage? Of course.
T: Yes?
R: Yes, yes. Listen, honestly, pronunciation. The pronunciation and the words themselves because, at the moment, there is a type of new music being released now that every time you stress these ‘nyeaa’ sounds more, the songs do better. You stop being able to understand what they’re saying! (Laughs)
T: Hahaha, I get it, I get it, I can imagine!
R: It’s like, what are you singing?! So, please, sing whatever you like, just please do not come anywhere near folklore with this pronunciation. (Both laugh)
T: Okay, so pronunciation and language.
R: For me, honestly, for me you should be making your audience understand what you are saying and it’s nice, also, for you to understand what you are saying, even if you want to do something new with it, it’s good to understand what you are singing. When was this song sung? And why? I swear you feel it more once you understand it.
T: Rola, you— since before the genocide— you have borne the responsibility of the [Palestinian] cause and been a champion of the cause—
R: From when I was born, as God is my Deputy.
T: From when you were born, yes from when you were born. He entrusted you with it and liked it
R: Honoured me with it, yes.
T: Yes, but after the genocide began, I’m sure many things changed. You just told us about the shifts that happened with you, that you didn’t, for example, release the album you had been hoping to release. But given that you sing for Palestine, were there any changes from that perspective? Did you feel that it was important for you to revive that heritage or turn to new content during this time?
R: I felt the importance of both. But, of course, it was more important for me to new releases that were specific to me, so I made the song ‘ikhl‘a n‘alaka ya Musa’ (cast off your sandals, Moses) and the song ‘tantadhiry’ (wait), and I also have a new song, hopefully to be released soon— I still haven’t titled it, but it says ‘I am afraid for the country and afraid of it.’ And genuinely, that is what we have come to.
T: I mean, even for me, it weighs on me as a listener. Heritage songs have their time, but also, in the shadow of the genocide I have been unable to listen very often because it isn’t the time-– or not that it isn’t the time, there are some things actually, that are the exact opposite, it’s good that we go back to them like ‘a’needon ana k-al-sukhoor’ (I am stubborn like the rocks), things like these resistance songs—
R: Songs that reflect what is currently going on
T: Exactly. But ‘nezra‘a f-il-ha’l’ (we farm in the field) and ‘middi diyaki ya Mariam’ (reach out your hands Mariam)* *(two well-known joyful Palestinian folk tunes) and such songs, I get this feeling that, no, we are in a very different reality now. Our role now is to produce [cultural products] that speak to our—
R: Now, these are also important. They are important. Okay, ‘middi diyaki ya Mariam’ talks about Henna and it’s not the time. You know, every song speaks to a certain reality and, our reality now, unfortunately, the reality we have returned to is a very painful one. I mean, today, you can sing ‘Tallet el-baroudeh’ (the rifle has appeared), for example, which talks about the same things happening now, you can, um, you can revive songs that closer reflect our current situation. Listen, everyone in the world is free, in the end, to release whatever they want in this moment, and what they do, but this is how I feel. I feel that there are songs that are appropriate right now and songs that are not.
T: One of these heritage songs, or folkloric tunes that we felt was very appropriate to right now is the tarwida and that, actually, is where the name of the podcast came from. Because we really felt that the tarwida is seeped in art and culture, but at the same time, it has a revolutionary line. So, I wanted to also ask you, why did you choose to sing tarwidas in general, because you have quite a history with them.
R: First of all because I like them, because it’s a lovely type of music, and I feel able to communicate through it. And you have, for example, ‘Ya tal‘aeen el-jabal’ (oh those climbing the mountain), and you have ‘Tarwidat-el-shemali’ (the tarwida of the north). Without realising what we are doing, we are still doing what the women of Palestine did long ago; they would deceive soldiers so that they would not understand what they were communicating to [Palestinian] prisoners in jail. So, they would add the letter ‘L’, and she might say to him, for example, to the trapped gazelles [meaning the imprisoned men], that it [their imprisonment] will not last.
[Sings]
So they would tell the gazelles [men] that were inside, jailed, would not be lost - they would get them out somehow. They had many other words and verses that they would say. And we, to this day, are fighting the algorithm and their suspicion.
T: Exactly, that’s why I say appropriate
R: Because of the algorithm, still, we do not want anyone to understand what we are saying, so can you imagine that you—have you ever thought about that we, since the British mandate in Palestine, have been trying to get people to listen to us? And by the way, they can hear us. I know since the war, they can hear us but they make it seem like they cannot hear anything.
T: Of course, of course, yes.
R: Before there was this barrier, we didn’t have social media, it was like ‘ahh’ there wasn’t any means [to communicate] and it was this obscured thing. And I am really sad that I lived through such a phase, to be honest, (laughs) I didn’t expect it to be like that, truly. Because— and it changed my perspective, to be honest, it became—before I used to see us as one, united front. And this is the problem. We are not one, unfortunately. We hoped that we would be united and we hoped that—ugh there is a song I really hate ‘el-helm el-araby’ (the Arab dream), I had hoped it would be real but I know it isn’t real. I have had this dislike for it since I was little—our problem is that we look—as a people we are one, but only as the people. But as something real, material, no, we are not united. And this is a very upsetting thing and it’s also very upsetting that since the days of the British Mandate and we are still pleading, “for God’s sake listen to us” and even after we saw that they heard us, nothing changed.
T: Yes, this makes you very disheartened.
R: So forget it, forget this greater idea. We thought that, come on, now there’s social media, now just you see what we’ll do, we will expose you! Well, we exposed them, now what? Sorry, I didn’t mean to give you such a feeling of defeat, or anything, but this is how everyone feels.
T: No, no, no, not at all. I mean it’s also important that we be realistic, so…
R: Yes.
T: But I think that any radical, drastic change in societies takes generations and generations and we probably will not see that change. But, at least, in my opinion there has been a shift on the level—like you said, on the level of the people. But your position, also, Rola, being inside the occupied 1948 lands, has a very very intense specificity and many difficult challenges. I would assume, maybe from both sides. From Arabs outside the occupied lands, from surrounding countries—
R: Welcome to my life!
T: And we have to talk honestly about this.
R: Yes.
T: So from Arabs on one side, and, of course, the occupation itself on the other. So how do you balance between the two, how do you—
R: Honestly, there is no balance. There is no balance. You have to just keep on, you have to keep believing in what you do and put out. I mean, there are a lot of people amongst us, for example, who sing. I can understand them, I am able to understand them. Because not everyone has the conviction to stay alert 24/7 and to constantly be explaining themselves and always trying to explain why “but why does he have this passport” and “why he is a certain way”, “oh but look at his I.D.”— you need to have patience and you need to truly believe, 100%, in what you are doing and see yourself further down the line than in this exact moment. It’s true, maybe I missed out on a world of money, on the world’s shows and channels that I boycotted, um, the radio stations I boycotted, there are many things I have boycotted because I do not see myself just in this moment, I see my life far in the future and I do not want to sully my name. So, my being inside occupied Palestine—we are under their rule. Everything. They own and control everything. We don’t have TV channels except the ones that they own, or if we have their permission. And we don’t have shows— I mean, there’s either ‘The Voice Israel’, or ‘X Factor Israel’, or on Channel 12, you can go on it and talk about Palestinian folklore but in their name—so you are really serving them, making them look good that, “oh, huh, did you see Arabs come on our channels”, and there is their democracy, “wow how lovely”, and “let them talk about their folklore”. You know, they made a mockery of us, you understand? So I outright refused. Actually, they used to call me, by the way, that channel. They used to call me every year, and I was investigated and they asked me, “why didn’t you go on this show?” And I don’t want to go on this show. “Why?”
T: By force? An investigation? It doesn’t warrant an investigation!
R: I don’t want to make you look good! I’m free!
T: Well, Rola, tell us how the occupation tries to contain or take over art and culture. Now, you mentioned a kind of takeover which is ‘whitewashing’: where they put you in front of the cameras on a show and it’s like “here, we have democracy and we aren’t actually biased to Jews, etc.” But are there other ways? We all know about the food—food might be the one thing we all know they want to appropriate—
R: Oof, you should see what they call Arab salad!
T: My God, I don’t want to know, don’t tell me!
R: Ahh!
T: But aside from food, how do they do the same with music, and do they appropriate music in the same way?
R: Of course. Go, go onto YouTube and look up, search for their music, I mean it’s just a copy. For me, they don’t have this culture—
T: You mean the melodies, the instruments?
R: Everything, everything. You have Jews who came from Morocco, who came from Iraq, so they are influenced by Iraqi music, they are influenced by Moroccan music, they are influenced by everything, but they don’t have their own identity, you understand? I mean, usually occupiers like with France, let’s say even in Lebanon, the [French] came with their culture, their civilisation and their food and their music, so the Lebanese were influenced by them. But no, we have the occupation coming to take everything from us—even our heritage, even our music, even our food. In that here—do you understand what I’m saying? So you feel like everything is being stolen from you. Even, like, 2-3 years ago, I’m not sure when, when they welcomed Miss Universe, they welcomed her in the name of “Israel”, (I mean, I don’t like saying this word)—they dressed her in athwab mtarazze (traditional Palestinian dress embroidered with Palestinian tatreez), do you understand? And they took her to the Negev to feed her Arabic food, as if it was israeli. As if, even if what they were wearing was israeli—a traditional embroidered Palestinian thobe!
T: Allah!
R: Like, do you understand the extent they go to? So, I say, even to wear tatreez (traditional embroidery) is resistance. In any way—any way you say, “no, this is ours”—it might not even have any effect that I am wearing a kuffiyeh, it might even expose me to danger that I am wearing a kuffiyeh— even if it has no effect, I still feel like it’s better. This is mine. Even this, they have taken. They took it and recoloured it and drew their flag on it, I mean, it’s enough. It’s really tough, it’s really difficult to see everything being stolen right in front of you.
T: Well, Rola, seeing how you are speaking about how Palestinians are, unfortunately, divided, and there are, shall we say, many different groups. When you sing, who do you sing for? Who is your audience?
R: Hmmm. I sing for the people who hold up our cause, like myself. I sing for people who still care. I sing for people who, in the entirety of their lives, have never seen Palestine. But it’s—you know who I love? The people who say— sometimes, you know sometimes I’m in Germany and I come across Arabs and I ask them where they’re from and they say, “we are from Haifa!” But I know that they have never been to Haifa before, so it’s—but I really love it. I love that they still say, “we are from Haifa”, “we are from Yaffa”, “we are from Nazareth”, ‘we are from Tulkarem” and—you know? So these people, these people are also my audience: people who are like me. I love also gaining new audiences, and because of this I go back to what I was saying, that I am making new music—I also want to win over the new generation. I mean, I have this responsibility—when someone likes your music, they start to like your message, too. I mean also, recently, I am finding people who newly, I don’t know how newly, but foreigners whom, every time I despair and think, “who am I releasing music for?”—I mean, I was struck by this thought two days ago—but as I said this to myself, and it was like, I’m done, I’m miserable, this German lady came along and was like, “Rola! Did you see this story, what they posted, and I was so moved and she called on lots of people around her, saying “this is Rola, look at what she sings, and she always speaks up, and you should follow her”; she learned about the Palestinian cause from me, you understand? If one person makes a connection, it pushes you to keep going. So I sing for people like me and I also like to bring in other people who are new listeners of mine.
T: And this might also be entangled with tarwidas which we were just talking about, it is an encrypted language that we use to speak other languages one another, away from the eyes of the occupation.
R: Mhmm.
T: But at the same time, it is something we always say as a team at Tarwida that we want to talk to one another, but we obviously don’t want to talk to the occupation, but the world is not so black and white, it isn’t just the occupier and Palestine. There are many people, like the ones you are talking about, who live in Germany, and Europe, and in countries where we may not agree with their foreign policies, but as populations they are ready to liberate us of the occupation.
R: Mhmm, yes.
T: We feel that it is also important for us to speak with these people.
R: Of course it’s important!
T: So, yes, you need to see how you can reach different groups, and every group plays a unique role.
R: I feel my largest audience is the generations of Palestinians in diaspora, that’s what I think. I mean, when I put out photos from Nazareth and ordinary days, and the vegetable seller and just our daily lives, I get lots of messages saying, like, “thank you for showing us our country. We knew Nazareth but we didn’t know the city’s details. We thought we were the only ones with vegetable sellers”, for example. These shared traits ensure that we are still all one. So, my biggest audience is, I feel, the Arab, and especially Palestinian, generations all over the world who cannot reach Palestine. So I also feel that it’s nice to show them what Palestine really is, whether it’s through a small story, a little song.
[Sings]
T: Tell us a little bit about the process behind ‘ikhl’a n’alaka ya Musa’ (cast off your sandals, Moses), how did you get the idea, what was the writing process, how did you choose the concept?
R: Um, okay, it’s that thing of a friend—my darling, he’s become like a brother of mine, Fadi—
T: Send him a salute! You’ve sent many greetings this episode (Both laugh)
R: Fadi Zaraket reached me through, uh, he reached out to the artist Reem Baneh’s brother, Firas—
T: Ha!
R: Firas is a friend of my Dad’s, he took my number from my Dad, and that’s how we reached him.
T: Okay!
R: So, he told me I have this song and I want you to sing it. So, he only sent me the lyrics, and I was like, ‘woah, okay!”
T: It’s bold.
R: It’s not just that it’s bold, it speaks exactly to what is happening in Palestine—before and now with what is happening, I mean, “even the intestines there resist, even the dismembered limbs and the unborn children”. The dismembered limbs, literally, the dismembered limbs, and I really—I felt it more during the war because, for example, if it had come to me before, I think the words “dismembered limbs” would have been a bit difficult for me—
T: Hmm, yes. My goodness, now we have grown accustomed to dismembered bodies.
R: Now I have trauma from a plastic bag, the bag for the vegetables, because we put dismembered limbs in it. I swear. So I was able to feel it more and I have a studio at home, where I record, with all my things. And I was joined by, it happened with the artist Joseph de Machianne, Khalil Khoury—with my friends. Praise be to God I have producers and friends who are very close to me whose level is very similar to mine, I didn’t even really have to explain what I wanted. Everyone who worked on it felt every single word and it came out a week before the annual commemoration of the martyrdom of the journalist Shireen [Abu Akileh], and at the time even her coffin was resistance, really, if we look at it, if you can remember the scene, the coffin was really resisting.
T: Truly, it’s impossible for me to forget that scene.
R: And that, for me, until now is the song that I most felt connected to when I sang it. And I also have the song “intadhiri” (wait), lyrics also by Fadi Zaraket - this is one of the hardest songs I ever sang—
T: Yes, even for us as listeners.
R: I was unable to go back and listen to it, if I tell you the truth. Because it put me in a depression. I spent a month working on it, even the people around me were asking, “what’s wrong with you?” I couldn’t take it. I felt as though my daughter died in my arms, because the song represents this scene. And I felt— I don’t have a daughter—but I felt that I had a daughter and I was in that scenario, and I put myself in any aunt, any uncle’s shoes, a mother, a father, unable to take care of my son. If anything ever happened to my cat, I would die. So, it doesn’t—there was a man who wrote, “that I kept carrying and protecting my children from the Sun for the entirety of our journey to refuge, until they [israel] bombed them.” So it was like that, all these types of images in my head, so yes, ‘ikhl’a n’alaka’ and ‘intadhiri’ are, in my opinion, amongst the best and most difficult songs I have ever sang. And, inshallah, soon you will see more things like this.
T: Well, Rola, if there are 5 artists you would advise all Palestinians to listen to?
R: Okay, I love listening to popular music groups, okay? I like listening to the artist Faraj Suleiman, he’s a friend. I like the artist Sanah Moussa, I love her music and her voice, the warm music she makes. I like the artist Khalid al-Habbar, I like Rola Azar (both laugh). Well, listen, we have so many talented people and voices. And it isn’t necessary that they sing for palestine for people to listen to them. We have many, many artists that people need to know about, and I hope that their work gains popularity outside and it gives them strength. I swear, we have some musical energies that are incredible. I don’t want to offend anyone, but in this moment, these are the people that come to mind!
T: Rola, I want to end with you on a song of your choice, for you to sing for us.
R: Okay, I want to sing a song, my God I was literally raised on it.
T: Okay!
R: And it was so strange to me to come back and sing it again because, when I was little, when I would say ‘Al-Nabatieh’ and “Hayy Al-Silm’, I was going to say the word “Il-Litani’, there were people who thought these were in Palestine, not in Lebanon. So, they thought—it was just that nobody really dove any deeper. But now we have returned to seeing ‘Il-Litani’ and ‘Al-Nabatieh’ and we see all the names—you know? That bad deja vu that we are in. So I would like to send a salute to our people in Lebanon and sing this song.
[Sings]
T: Allah, wow!
R: So, it’s really bad that we are returning to these songs and the same thing is happening now, in reality. So, yeah.
T: But, I mean, we need people like yourself to keep singing.
R: My darling and we need people like you who keep listening.
T: Thank you very much, Rola, I really enjoyed our conversation.
R: Me too. That’s it?! Time’s up?
T: Yes (laughing), time’s up.
R: I swear I didn’t notice! There are still so many things to talk about!
T: We will do another episode!
R: Part 2!
T: Exactly. Thank you my darling.
R: Thank you! Thank you for the invitation, I am very pleased to be on the Tarwida podcast, and to get to know you as well, thank you.