ohOn a recent Wednesday in Brooklyn, about 40 people gathered at Storm Books, an independent bookstore dedicated to showcasing works from the Mittaiswana (Southwest Asia and North Africa) region. After many poets and writers read, Huda Asfour emerged from the audience. She picked up a type of Middle Eastern short-necked harp and set herself on a stool.
“It's great to be among like-minded people,” said Asfour, 42, her unruly curls bouncing slightly as she placed the instrument on her lap. Her melodious voice filled the space as people listened quietly to her haunting melody about hypocrisy and the flawed human condition. But when he sang a rousing protest song in Arabic that included a refrain about the jailing of Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, the energy shifted. People clapped and sang and laughed. At the end of the short program, the awake audience burst into applause.
Four months before the bookstore event, Asfour was at a crossroads, unsure of what to do next. He recently returned from visiting family in Egypt, where more than 115,000 Palestinians, including his aunt, have been displaced since the start of Israel's war on Gaza. Many were left without access to basic resources and unable to cope with the trauma of the war. Asfour knew that wounded Palestinians were confined to hospital rooms; Palestinian children were barred from entering the school system. There were several mutual aid groups on the ground to help with the massive influx of Palestinians, and she wasn't sure if she should try to go to Egypt and join them. How can we help in a situation where the need is so urgent, so acute, and so limited in resources?
Ultimately, he decided to stay in the United States, where he is a legal resident and working musician, rather than face the complications of being a Palestinian in Egypt. He later described it as a pragmatic decision – but an accidental one.
A year into Israel's deadly campaign, the stream of horrific news – Palestinian homes destroyed, entire families wiped out, the devastating, mounting death toll – has been unrelenting. At the same time, in the United States and around the world, interest in Palestinian artists and musicians has grown significantly, many of whom are capitalizing on this focus. Call for a ceasefire, for the US to stop arming Israel and for families in Gaza to raise funds.
Asfour played days before he called for Netanyahu to be held accountable for alleged war crimes at the bookstore. At the Demand for Justice festival in Amsterdam, he and Sudanese singer-songwriter Alsara performed a remake of a revolutionary Sudanese song. About Ne3makudu Liberation Struggle. His decision to stay in New York allowed him to continue participating in this work, sharing his message of crossing borders and working together to defeat “fascist” power structures – “my way of being useful at this time. ”, she said. He has played several fundraisers and concerts for Gaza in the US over the past year, so he's off the rails.
These events serve as a place for people to grieve together, see each other for support, and find ways to keep going. But sometimes, Asfour feels frustrated. “Even when the urgency of the moment is high, we need to think about how our energy is spent. How do we create spaces where we can think about next steps?”
Asfour is many things: an accomplished oud player and composer, an educator, a biomedical engineer with a PhD. He comes from a musical family and when he was 13 years old, he saw his grandfather playing the oud at a family gathering in Amman, Jordan. And identity,” she said.
Growing up in Tunisia, Asfour has performed music from Iraq, Lebanon, Palestine, Syria and Egypt. His early influences included some of the greats of Arabic music, Umm Kulthum, Mohammed Abdel Wahab, and Said Darwish, and blended Arabic musical styles with contemporary music, including Marcel Khalif and the Palestinian group Sabreen, jazz and rock. In her teens and early 20s, He studied at music conservatories in Tunisia and Palestine. An important part of his artistic understanding came from his time in Ramallah during the Second Palestinian Intifada.
“My upbringing was very traditional – very elitist – in terms of understanding and appreciating music. I focused more on form and tone,” he said. “Then, I understood … the ramifications of colonialism in Arabic music. Politics becomes part of your theoretical background.
Asfour moved to the United States in 2005 to pursue a doctorate in engineering and teach, but continued to work on his music, releasing two studio albums, writing film scores and collaborating with artists around the world. Playing music in America was problematic in new and unexpected ways. Many Americans had never seen or heard his instrument, the oud, and did not understand Arabic lyrics.
“There was a different perception of music, there was this fascination,” Asfour said. “It gets stuck. It doesn't allow for a smooth human interaction … there are all these strange layers that you have to go through.
In the past year, people's willingness and openness to learn about Palestinian culture, including its music, has changed.
At film festivals, poetry readings, stage plays, art shows, and folk concerts, Americans, including Jewish solidarity groups, showed up in droves to testify, learn, listen, and protest Israel's continued aggression. Gaza. “I truly believe that all protests matter. People have a lot at stake now by saying they stand with the Palestinians,” Asfour said.
But she worries about the lack of diversity in these cases: the loudest voices are usually not Palestinians, and the people in Gaza are often portrayed as powerless victims or charity cases, stripped of their humanity. After a year of playing music at these events, Asfour saw a lot of solidarity, but not a focus on collective solutions to prevent what's happening in Gaza from happening anywhere else in the world.
“People want to help, so they get you food, but they watch you eat. They don't understand how humiliating it is,” he said. “They should sit and eat with you. The human moment of sharing food is important. “
Beyond the money and awareness for Gaza, Asfour has a busy life as a musician. He has taught workshops and founded improvisational ensembles that bring together musicians of all stripes in spontaneous live performances – another way to embrace collaboration across musical boundaries. He has also been working on albums, including one about protest, documenting his experience of the vicissitudes of the past several months. “I'm writing faster than I've ever written,” he said. He has found hope in a new non-profit program to mentor youth in response to the situations in Gaza and Sudan.
While not a panacea, she believes fundraising and coming together in the community – stirring something up through melody – can provide respite after years of terrible news and difficult decisions. “At least I'm helping people as much as we can to keep them in survival mode,” he said.
After his performance at the bookstore, Asfour stepped outside to smoke. Israel launched an intensive bombing campaign against Lebanon Two days earlier, it had killed more than 550 people, and many writers who spoke that night noted how heavy things were; The grief was palpable. A few minutes later, two women in the audience joined her outside. They said they were Palestinians too and that his music was beautiful. “We really needed this,” said one. “In times like these, it's important to be together.” Asfour conversed with them for a few minutes. The wind picked up and it was getting late, so she went back into the lighted bookstore where people were milling about, none of them ready to go home.