Mohamed Baraka looks at how the legendary Abdel-Halim Hafez is remembered in music, film and television For millions of people in this region he was the voice of an era, the man who immortalised in song the dreams and passion of the 1950s and 1960s. Abdel-Halim Hafez was a voice that spoke to an entire generation, and still does. His love songs made him the Sinatra of the Arab world, and his patriotic ballads symbolised the transition from monarchy to republic. His legacy survives to this day, towering over the talents that followed and beckoning to an inimitable past. Interestingly enough Hafez's legacy, however extensive, has been eroded in the telling. Dramas that have attempted to capture his life have been criticised as inadequate, and many of his songs are hard to find today. Some are even deemed inappropriate by state censors trying to erase the trail of untamed nationalism. What was once political statement of pride and independence, the anti-American and anti-Zionist ballads of many decades past, are now seen as over-zealousness and politically correct, if not distasteful, art historian Wagdi El-Hakim says. Entire songs, such as Nashid Al-Thaar (Song of Revenge) and Ghanni Ya Qalbi (Sing, My Heart) are no longer played on the radio or -- in the few instances they are broadcast -- are severely truncated. For example, a section of the lyrics of Ibnak Bi Yequollak Ya Batal (You Son Tells You, Champ) is now deemed too anti-American. The powers that be do not want to broadcast lyrics that go: "Your son tells you I am surrounded by 100 million Arabs, and the Americans have no place among us." Another song, Thawretna Al-Masriya (Our Egyptian Revolution) is never played in full, because it is no longer politically safe to state that "against Zionism we stand firm, and Palestine, our beloved, will be Arab again". Waxing lyrical about the fiercely nationalist President Gamal Abdel-Nasser is no longer in fashion either. So the song Sura (Picture) is mostly off the air. The censor is not keen on people hearing Hafez say, "How lovely you all are, by God, I say truly and from the heart, our revolution is our picture and what a wonderful one it is. In the frame of the popular organisation, we're all around Nasser, we're all Nasser." Another song, Ya Gamal Ya Habib Al-Malayin (O Gamal, Beloved by Millions), also about Nasser, is no longer played on radio or television. In general it is hard to find many of Hafez's patriotic songs on tapes or CD, although the official state radio has them all. Songs such as Salamat Ezzayukum (Greetings, How Are You?), Ya Farhetna Ya Hanana (How Happy We Are), Yom Wartah (One Day of Leisure), Esha We Qum (Shine and Rise), Taht Rayet Bor Said (Under the Flag of Port Said), Al-Oyoun Betnadik (Eyes Call You) and several others have fallen from official favour. Other songs may have been lost to posterity, including Nadani Al-Hobb (Love Called Me), Ya Mulayin Bel Sahar (To You Who Stay up Late), and Mabruk Ya Aris Al-Saudiya (Congratulations Groom of Saudi). Furthermore, many of the songs that Hafez performed in concert or those he performed in the television programme Al-Piano Al-Abyad (The White Piano) have been damaged, says Art critic Ahmed El-Samahi. The song writer Mohamed Hamza, who wrote 27 of Hafez's songs, remembers how selective the singer was about what he sang. Once handed new lyrics, Hafez would sit with the song writer and start copying the words in his own hand. Then he would underline the words that he wanted changed. He once asked Hamza to change the words meshwar saeeb (tortuous trip), to meshwar baeed (long trip) in the song Sawwah (The Traveller). In Mawoud (Promised), he insisted that the words al-khof regea (fear came back) be changed to al-khof baed (fear went away). Ahmed El-Samahi offers a little-known piece of history. Most of us think that Hafez came from nowhere to burst suddenly into fame. But this is not true, El-Samahi says. Before landing his first big role in Lahn Al-Wafaa (Melody of Loyalty), Hafez sang off-screen in four major films. One was the 1953 film Baad Al-Wedaa (After the Farewell) starring Faten Hamama and Emad Hamdi. In the same year, the director Hassan El-Imam used another Hafez song for his film Baeat Al-Khobz (The Bread Woman) with Shadia and Zaki Rostom. In 1955, his song Lao Kont Yom Tehun (If One Day I Can Forget You) was played in the film Dawn starring Magda and Gamal Fares. Three of his songs also featured in the film Aladdin and The Magic Lantern. The composer and film critic Helmi Bakr, is unhappy with the way Hafez's life has been dramatised so far. The television series Al-Andalib (The Nightingale) may have packaged Hafez's songs in a pleasant way, but the casting was all wrong, especially for the lead actor who, Bakr says, could not even sing. Bakr also claims that the film Halim is full of misrepresentation and factual errors. The film portrays Hafez's relationship with his brother Ismail Shabana as a good one, whereas everyone knows that it was mostly contentious. Hafez was not easily swayed by others, as the film suggests. Rather, he used to tell Wagdi El-Hakim what to do more often than not, whereas the film would have one think that Hakim was doing most of the thinking, Bakr says. The romantic liaison between Hafez and the actress- singer Soad Hosni was also left out of the film. So was the tension between Hafez and some of his professional rivals, including the composer Baligh Hamdi and the singer Warda. The actor who played Hafez in the film, Ahmed Zaki, was too sick to do the story justice. "It would have been helpful had the writers consulted the people who knew Hafez closely, such as Mohamed Hamza, Abdel-Rahman El-Abnudi, Wagdi El-Hakim, or myself," Bakr says.
