As Egyptians face another round of street clashes linked to the country's ongoing revolution, radio stations have been broadcasting national songs to keep morale high, writes Samir Sobhi Patriotic songs are not just for festivals and military processions. Instead, they are the spark of the nation's soul, a window into our hearts, and a measure of our faith in the future. This is what Mohamed Fahmi Abdel-Latif said in his introduction to Victory Songs, a book written by historian Fikri Boutros nearly 35 years ago. Singing for victory is part of Egyptian history, and in a way it is a part of our language too. You may have heard captains of boats on the Nile chanting the words, Ya Ramso Ya Ramso, as they rowed or unfurled their sails. These words are part of a three-millennia-year-old song dedicated to the ancient Egyptian Pharaoh Ramses II. The late novelist Yehia Haqqi once recounted some embarrassing moments that Egyptian students have suffered when abroad shortly after World War I. The foreign students would often sing a patriotic song from their country during university celebrations, and the Egyptians couldn't think of one. Instead, they would sing a popular song by Egyptian composer Sayed Darwish, often Telet Ya Mahla Norha Shams Al-Shammousa (The Sun has Risen with a Glorious Light). The Egyptian national anthem used to be called the Khedival March. This had no lyrics, so some anonymous jokesters gave it some: Afandina dakhal al-warsha/Darabulu salam bel-maqasha, which can be translated as "our king went to the factory/and they saluted him with broomsticks." The ancient Egyptians were the first people to use music in their religious festivities and temple ceremonies as accompaniments to sacrificial rituals and in street festivals. Soldiers were accompanied into battle by music, and on the walls of ancient temples there are scenes depicting singers and dancers. The ancient Greeks, who came in touch with the ancient Egyptians during the latter's Twenty-Sixth Dynasty, kept this tradition alive. Plato is sometimes claimed to have studied singing and music in Cairo, for example. This is the man who said that music "gives a soul to the universe, wings to the wind, flight to the imagination, and life to everything." The wind instrument called the mizmar has been in use in Egypt since the ancient Egyptian Old Kingdom at least, when peasants played it during the harvest and in festivities marking the annual Nile flood. Here is the translation of such a song written in honour of a homecoming army: This army is coming home with pride; It has wrecked the forts of the sand dwellers. This army is coming home with pride; It has thrown fire and fear among the enemies. This army is coming home with pride; It has defeated the soldiers of the enemies. This army is coming home with pride; It has captured many prisoners. One of the most important events of the last century for Egyptians was the country's 1919 Revolution, led by the much-admired nationalist politician Saad Zaghloul. To show their support for their exiled leader, people named a popular brand of dates after him, and the red, elongated dates often found in Egyptian markets are still called "zaghloul". Living under foreign occupation and fearing persecution by the feared secret police, Egyptian traders would roam the streets singing praise to Zaghloul, a 1920s national hero symbolised by red dates: O dates of Zaghloul, how sweet you are, Sweet as sugar, blessed by God. O dates of Zaghloul, I sing to you In every valley, and I have a craving for you. O plants of my country, so delightful, You bring me luck and happiness. O dates of Zaghloul, Saad said to me, God is on my side, I am home safe and sound. O dates of Zaghloul, I am back home So don't cry anymore. Another song, also dating to the 1930s or 1940s, goes as follows: O Egypt, sun of the world, Your light is so colourful. O my paradise, north and south, Your land is gold and ruby, Pearls and red coral. Your air is pure, It heals my heart. Having faith in a better future has always been in the hearts of Egyptians despite what they have sometimes had to endure. As the end of the year 2011 closes in upon us, one can't help but wish that the words of a song by Mounira El-Mahdiya, a diva of the 1920s, would finally come true: Victory lights are upon us, Our joy is so complete. Justice has chased away Those who plundered the wealth.
