Seventeen members of his family have been arrested, but Yahya Hawwa still sings – and Syrian protesters have made his voice their own. Omar Shahid talks to the irrepressible voice of a revolution 

Yahya Hawwa was five when his father and uncle were killed in front of him in Hama, Syria, in 1982. This was the era of Bashar al-Assad’s father, Hafez, whose forces are believed to have massacred 20,000–40,000 Syrian citizens. The memory left an indelible scar on Hawwa – now 36 and dubbed the “singer of the Syrian revolution”.

It is a title that comes at a wretched price: 17 members of Hawwa’s family were arrested late last year; one was killed, and until recently Hawwa was on the ministry of the interior’s “wanted” list. “Before the start of the revolution, all the things I sung about were either for children or spiritual songs,” he says from his home in Amman, Jordan, where he has lived for several years. “It was not until the Syrian revolution kicked off that I felt great pressure to sing about it.”

He and his mother fled from Syria to Saudi Arabia after his father was murdered. His father and uncle were market traders, selling fruit and vegetables; their crime was that they had a brother who was a leader in the opposition Muslim Brotherhood, and an outspoken critic of the Syrian regime. “Whenever the Muslim Brotherhood did something against the government, the government would target 10 to 20 members of a family. My father and uncle were in a mosque near their home,” Hawwa says.

Classically trained in Qur’anic recitation, Hawwa also borrows from western traditions; the instrumentation of his songs is often minimal, relying more on his powerful voice. In the space of two years, he has written 30 songs. The revolutionaries chant his lyrics before they go out to protest – even before they are “martyred”, he says. Arguably the most potent of these is Hawwa’s Going to My Death. “The song touches many mothers,” he says. They’ll sing it as they bid farewell to their sons and never see them again.”

Threats were communicated via his family in Syria after he released the song Traitor, a reference to the president. (“The traitor is the one who kills his own people,” Hawwa sings, a refrain also chanted by the revolutionaries.) “Shabiha [thugs working for the regime] told my family that if they got their hands on me, they would slaughter me.”

Other popular lines have been turned into slogans, too: “Oh mother I am going to my death/ The jasmines of Syria, I will talk about you/ Do not cry, do not cry/ We are coming to the [presidential] palace, we are coming to the palace!”

Last year, Hawwa was one of a number of acts to tour the UK on behalf ofHuman Appeal International and Syria Relief, on a bill topped by the 31-year-old Lebanese-born singer Maher Zain. Shows in Manchester, Birmingham and London raised £1m.British musician Saif Adam, who also performed, says: “The UK coverage [of the Syrian revolution] has been limited. Some songs can pull people through bad times.”

“The role of music in the Syrian revolution has been profound,” Hawwa says. “It has served two main roles: on the ground, it has rallied the revolutionaries and encouraged them. And outside Syria, it has shed an artistic light on what’s going on there.”

Indeed, Hawwa is just one of many musicians playing his part in bringing down the regime. Omar Offendum, 30, is a Syrian-American hip-hop artist based in Los Angeles. His track #Syria, released in March 2012, went viral on release; it’s an eloquent, vociferous attack on Assad’s regime.

“My father’s family is from Hama, which was destroyed in 1982,” Offendum says. “But nobody heard about it because there were no camera phones and no YouTube. Now, seeing it happen again sends shivers down my spine. The fact that the barrier of silence has been broken is a triumph in and of itself to people like me. To see a generation of people who can finally rise up and speak is powerful. I knew it was only a matter of time until the revolution would come back to Syria.”

Inevitably, social media has played a huge part in this revolution. “Compared to the first massacre in Hama, this time, any small or big thing is recorded and posted all over the internet within hours,” Hawwa says. “The music of the Syrian revolution is an oral history of events – it documents the revolution for future generations.” Late last year, crossing through Turkey’s borders, Hawwa was able to visit Syria for the first time since he fled as a child, despite trying on many occasions. He says that he has been warned, throughout his life, even before he began singing about the revolution, that if he returned he would face prison – which, according to Hawwa, is tantamount to death.

“The regime is devilish and tyrannical,” he says. “They have no legitimacy: 70% to 80% of the people don’t support them.” When does he expect it to end? “I’m sure before 15 March, which will be exactly two years since [the revolution] started. That is when I’ll finally be able to return home. It’s a coincidence: that’s my birthday, too.”

While hip-hop in the West has evolved into a platform for radical political discourse juxtaposed with mindless party anthems, things are obviously a bit more complex in Syria. Centuries ago, Arabic poets held hijas, which were basically proto–poetry slams, and by extension, freestyle rap battles. But these roots never blossomed into much of a scene, mostly due to the constraints of the authoritarian Assad government. The lack of availability of decent tunes in the country is exacerbated by the fact that, in general, music is a touchy subject for Muslims (some interpret verses of the Koran as favoring a ban on music altogether). These extreme levels of censorship and sensitivity clash with the traditionally rebellious nature of hip-hop, and to violate them by recording a track with incendiary lyrics can be a deadly decision.

On July 4, 2011, the poet Ibrahim Qashoush’s body was found floating down the Orontes River, which flows through Lebanon, Syria, and Turkey. According to residents, Qashoush’s vocal chords had been ripped from his slit throat. The poet was rumored to have coined the mantra “Yalla erhal ya Bashar,” or “Come on Bashar, leave”—a battle cry demanding the ouster of the familial regime that has ruled Syria for four decades. This slogan, along with the Arab Spring’s famous rallying cry “Al-sha‘b yurīd isqa-t. al-niz. a-m” (“The people want to bring down the regime”), has inspired both revolutionaries inside the country and Syrians living in exile around the world to support the resistance. One of the most interesting examples is LA-based rapper Omar Offendum, whose anti-regime track “#SYRIA” got so much attention that he won’t be able to visit his homeland again unless Bashar and his followers are overthrown.

Omar has deep family ties to Syria (his late father was a native of Hama, and his mother currently lives in Damascus) and identifies as a Syrian American, even though he was born in Saudi Arabia and grew up in Washington, DC. “I’m American for all intents and purposes, but I’m very much connected to Syria,” he said. Omar’s early lyrics consisted of the typical party fodder and other bullshit embraced by most young MCs. Then, while he was in college, 9/11 happened. “I realized really quickly that all of a sudden I had this microscope on me,” he said. “I went from just being another kid on campus rapping to ‘the Arab rapper’ or ‘the Muslim rapper’—people were questioning my Americanness after a show because I was against the war.”

For the next decade, Omar rapped about the many injustices in the Middle East and performed at fundraising events for Palestine and Pakistan. Then, last year, the conflict in Syria erupted, and he embraced the cause of the rebels as his own. His last visit to the country was in 2010, the same year he released his solo debut, SyrianamericanA. In 2011, he penned the one-off track “#SYRIA” and included the hashtag symbol in its title because “Syria was a trending topic more on Twitter than it was on any news site.” Its lyrics incorporated a powerful mix of recitations of the Arab Spring’s slogan and Qashoush’s chant, interspersed with lines like, “I have a dream the regime will fall/ And that what comes next will be better for us all.” Omar realized that releasing the track would jeopardize both his safety and that of his family back home. He only made it available to the public earlier this year, after his relatives in Syria gave him their blessing.

Omar had good reason to wait for their approval: The hip-hop scene in Syria is as sectarian as its politics, and the government listens to everything that’s released. The most famous rapper in the country is Murder Eyez, an Aleppo native who’s  landed on Assad’s bad side in the past but now rhymes in support of the president. His competition includes Eslam Jawaad, a Syrian-Lebanese MC who lives in London and whose stance is also pro-regime.

Some might say it’s odd that some Syrian rappers have subverted a genre that has traditionally taken an antiauthoritarian stance, but Omar can explain: “It’s always been assumed that hip-hop would be the mouthpiece for the street and the struggle, but then in Syria for the first time you had this unique situation where all of a sudden it was also being used by the regime—but not really by the regime, by people who felt that this regime was something to be proud of. To them, they were standing up to the world superpowers that they felt were against Syria.”

Omar, however, is not alone in his musical support of rebel forces. Artists like MC Roco and the band LaTlaTeh combine elements of hip-hop and Arabic music while gently challenging the current situation in Syria. “What’s interesting is that the overwhelming majority of the artists either had to go into exile because they were threatened by the government, or they just straight-up disappeared,” he said. “I can’t tell you how many people were jailed or disappeared. Every once in a while, they would hand-pick someone suddenly whom they would let get away with saying something, as a form of pressure release, maybe, and give off the impression that they were supporting the arts or the culture, but there were always lines that were drawn.”

While Omar acknowledges that rhyming about Syria from the sunny confines of LA is safer than doing so from within the country, he still receives plenty of death threats, especially online. And the potential danger of returning to his homeland isn’t the only thing keeping him away; the Syrian government formally notified him that he has been banned from entering its borders. “Until this stuff is resolved, I’m technically exiled even though I’m not really from there,” he said.

For now, artists like Omar and a few brave Syrian residents will continue to express their frustrations and political views through hip-hop, but what’s next for the country and the future of the art form there remains to be seen. Omar told me that he hopes he can return to Syria at some point in the future. “I love and cherish Syria, and insha’Allah [God willing], I’ll be able to go back and maybe have a house there and show it to my kids someday,” he said. “But right now, this is the reality of the situation.”

For an overview of the issues that have fueled the conflict in Syria, we recommend reading “Road to Ruin,” our condensed timeline of Syrian history, and “The VICE Guide to Syria,” a crash course on the country’s geopolitical, cultural, and religious complexities.

L.A. rapper Omar Offendum came of age in a hip-hop era filled with violent tales by artists like Biggie Smalls and Tupac Shakur. But last year, the 30-year-old Syrian American discovered how truly dangerous hip-hop could be.

“I had to hold my tongue for a long time,” Offendum said of his song “#Syria,” a furious riposte to Syrian President Bashar Assad that he released in March. Although Offendum (he prefers not to use his real name to protect family) is hardly a superstar, the underground track still could have had devastating implications for family members still in Syria.

He released the single, based on a sampled recording from an anti-Assad protest, only after they safely fled. “I couldn’t release a song like that without their blessing. There was a Syrian American pianist who played at a protest rally in D.C., and his family in Homs was attacked by thugs.”

Over the last decade, Muslim and Arab American rappers like Offendum have used hip-hop to rail against American foreign policy in the Middle East and to document their own treatment at home amid post-9/11 backlash and paranoia.

Now the war in Syria is pulling Offendum’s music back to the country where his family was — and the culture still is — imperiled. Over the last two years, citizens’ street protests have been met with gunfire, torture and even darker atrocities at the hands of pro-Assad forces.

The urgency of Offendum’s older tracks about stereotyping and Western ignorance of the Islamic world suddenly paled against the threat of his family being killed and his ancestral country spiraling into civil war.

“A year and a half after [the protests], it’s a bloodbath,” Offendum said. The genial, imposingly tall MC grew up in Washington, D.C., listening toOutKast and Jay-Z and translating Langston Hughes’ poetry into Arabic. But now he’s figuring how to rhyme about a civil war.

“After doing so many benefits for Palestine, for Iraq, for Haiti, now I’m doing them for Syria,” he said over lunch in Hollywood. “But at the same time, it’s an amazing time to be Syrian — people are saying things that you haven’t heard there in 50 years.”

Offendum’s mike skills and activism helped land him nearly 16,000 Facebook fans and 8,000 Twitter followers, who have been more important to furthering his career than record sales or a label deal. He keeps an active social media presence posting pictures and stories from his tour travels to across the U.S., Europe and Middle East locales such as Qatar and Dubai.

His independently released 2010 debut, the full-length “SyrianamericanA,” is a potent mix of noir-soaked ’90s rap sounds laced with Islamic poetry (he switches between Arabic and English in ways familiar to Spanish-speaking Latin-American rap artists) and antiquated clips from Western documentaries on Syria. Offendum’s music reflects his vantage point between those worlds. It’s rooted in Syrian and Arabic identity while also navigating issues with an American outlook.

Across the nations of the “Arab Spring,” MCs like Tunisia’s El General have helped galvanize youth to revolutionary action and documented conditions on the ground. But activists there and in countries such as Libya and Iraq can face brutal reprisal from governments and militants for speaking out.

As an American in L.A., Offendum can rhyme with relative safety. He’s not fighting in the revolution, but he feels he must use his music to help explain what’s happening — both to America, and to himself. In “#Syria” he uses hip-hop taunts to rail against Assad: “Second guessing the protesters / Was a recipe for Assad to address his own doom. … Look who’s got you shook / Doctor don’t know how to act now.”

Maher Hathout, founder of the Muslim Public Affairs Council, has been a mentor of Offendum’s and empathizes with the rapper’s struggle to write about something so immediate and difficult as war, especially when Offendum is unsure of his own place in it.

“I sympathize with him, when you’re so preoccupied it’s hard to suppress that,” Hathout said. “But Omar is very consistent. He feels the pain of the people and his heart’s in the right place, but he’s never claimed to be physically participating in the conflict. His contribution might be even more important — creating awareness.”

Offendum was born in Saudi Arabia after his family fled the previous Assad regime. After moving to America in 1985 (he became a naturalized citizen in 1993), he attended a cosmopolitan Islamic school in D.C., where he met other recent immigrants as well as local Muslim American children. It was an experience, he said, that helped him form a pan-Arab identity growing up. At the same time, he discovered American hip-hop and began noticing subtle allusions to Islamic culture in some of his favorite songs.

“When Jay-Z and Timbaland sampled the Egyptian artist Abdel Halim Hafez for ‘Big Pimpin’,’ even my mom recognized that song,” Offendum said. “I knew I wanted to hear someone rapping about my issues, and once I got to college and 9/11 happened, I thought I could be that person.”

While attending the University of Virginia to study architecture, he crafted beats and rhymes in his dorm, and after moving to L.A. in 2004, he helped assemble a compilation of hip-hop tracks with peers like the Iraqi Canadian MC the Narcicyst and the American rap-underground figure Immortal Technique to benefit a documentary film on Palestinian hip-hop culture.

Offendum was a natural MC — charismatic and commanding, with authoritative riffs on the Sykes-Picot Agreement (which set many Middle Eastern borders after World War I) spliced with internal rhymes that evoke golden era greats like Black Star and A Tribe Called Quest.

The rapper freelances for an architecture firm alongside his tours, which often eschew the club circuit for college dates paired with guest lectures on Syria and Arab American culture. This month he performed at Soundscape in Anaheim and the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. His music was featured in a documentary about the Syrian conflict, “The Suffering Grasses,” screened at the Arab Film Festival at the Writers Guild Theater.

For Muslim American hip-hop artists like Offendum, the revolutions in Tunisia, Egypt and Libya brought mixed emotions — joy, hope and nervousness about what comes next — as well as the pressure of being seen as spokespeople for the young Arab world.

“I fear that the, once again, temporary coverage of our musicians during this time of conflict will both pigeonhole the artist, the growing scene and the genre,” said the Iraqi Canadian rapper the Narcicyst, who has collaborated with Offendum. “As an Iraqi, it was very discouraging to see how the world forgot about Iraq, like it never happened. Unfortunately, the problem in Syria will not change with a song, or a movement; it is a deep-seeded issue that has proven deeper and more protracted than assumed.”

Even in Arabic and Arab American hip-hop circles, Offendum says he’s heard pro-Assad rap tracks that belittled the protesters as tools of the West, and some pro-Assad Syrian Americans tried to shut down his recent show in Cleveland (though the set went smoothly in the end). He admits to struggling with how to write about the war — “I’ve never been comfortable glorifying death and martyrdom,” he said.

He knows the revolution is a dominant event in his life, and his new music inevitably will reflect that. Yet Offendum’s L.A. life is far away from the street fights of the Free Syrian Army. He last visited Syria in 2010 and almost certainly would be detained if he tried to go back while Assad is in power. Yet media such as Al Jazeera have turned to him, as a Syrian American with a powerful voice on Syrian youth culture, to comment on the revolution.

Over lunch in at a vegan restaurant known for macrobiotic fare and earnest menu item titles like “I Am Present” and “I Am Elated,” Offendum admits he can only witness the Syrian civil war via secondhand news. But he’s drawing on the revolution to make music reflecting his own vantage point, and sending that sound across America and back to Syria with a message: We hear you.

“There’s a tradition of nighttime chants whenever someone came back from the Hajj [a religious pilgrimage to Mecca], where people would praise them with call-and-response and hand drumming,” Offendum said. “It’s freestyling, and now they’re singing about the revolutionaries.”

august.brown@latimes.com

Syrian American Hip Hop Artist Omar Ofendum (@Offendum) discussing Syria in this month’s issue of ‘Islamic Horizon’s magazine. 

The past year has been 30-year-old Syrian-American rapper Omar Offendum’s biggest to date. He’s played universities, festivals and clubs all over the U.S., Canada, Australia, Europe and the Middle East, promoting his debut album SyrianamericanA. Since March, Offendum has played 10 different charity events for Syria in the U.S. and Europe that have raised several hundred thousand dollars of aid money for those suffering as a result of the current uprisings in his parents’ homeland (Offendum himself was born in Saudi Arabia and his family emigrated to the U.S. when he was a kid).

And while his pro-revolution stance has brought positive feedback, with many fans at his shows telling him they’ll see him “next year in Syria, inshallah,” others have suggested he’s not doing enough (“You should have written 15 songs about Syria by now”). He’s also faced threats from supporters of the Syrian regime, ranging from the less-than-scary “Don’t you dare release this song” to the seriously intimidating “We should have killed you all in 1982,” a reference to a government-led massacre in Offendum’s father’s hometown of Hamah. Offendum has learned he’s now officially persona non grata in Syria – “Not something I’m surprised by, nor something that I want to test,” he says.

I first met Offendum back in March 2011, not long after the release of “#Jan25,” a collaboration with Iraqi-Canadian rapper The Narcycist, honoring the courage of the Tunisian and Egyptian protestors who kickstarted the Arab Spring. “If it can happen in Egypt, it can happen anywhere,” he told me at the time. But he hadn’t anticipated that his own people would soon attempt to overthrow Bashar Al Assad.

“I can’t lie, when I first saw footage and heard the Syrian accent [coming from those] being attacked [by security forces] and from the chanting, it struck me differently than it did in Egypt and Tunisia. It hit a lot closer to home,” Offendum says. But concern for those family members still living in Syria has meant the rapper has had, on occasion, to hold his tongue. “It’s very difficult,” he says. “I’m trying to be vocal, and careful at the same time.” He adds that Assad loyalists can be found everywhere, reporting back to Syria on the local diaspora communities. “I’m sure Syrian secret police have shown up at my concerts; sometimes I’m asked way too many detailed questions.”

His fears are not just based on speculation. He cites the example of Ibrahim Qashoush, the singer (and originator of the popular chant “Yalla Erhal Ya Bashar”  [Come on Bashar, Time to Leave]) who was killed by Syrian security forces and had his vocal cords ripped out.

In spite of the threats he had received, Offendum decided to release “#Syria” on March 17th this year (the anniversary of the uprising in Syria). “I waited until my immediate family gave their blessings - both those inside and outside,” he explains. That same day, he performed the track at a rally for Syria in front of the White House.

“#Syria,” with its chorus of “Alsha3b yureed isqaa6 al-nitham” [The people want to overthrow the regime] quickly gained over 100,000 views on YouTube.

“The reception was overwhelmingly positive despite the haters. I got more support than I lost,” he says. “You can’t please everybody. I am doing this not just to empower people with my messages, I am also empowering myself and [using] the therapy that is involved in making music.” His next album, he says, has been stalled by the Syrian uprising. “The emotional toll that this has taken on me, my family and my community will be one of the themes I explore on the next record,” he adds. “I am happy to stand on stage and present a confident, strong face to inspire people, but when I am constantly reminded of the bloodshed, I admit I hit a wall some days myself.”

At Songs for Syria in New York on May 31st (which, together with an event in Boston two days later, raised $140,000), Offendum explains why he’s focusing on so many charity events. “Writing and putting the message out there is great,” he says. “But to use my art to help raise so much humanitarian aid is especially gratifying.”

It seems the pride is mutual. A group of activists inside Syria has created stamps commemorating the Syrian revolution. On one, Offendum is pictured side by side with Qashoush.

Before an audience of Americans of Arab origin, Offendum takes the stage. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me to be here tonight,” he says. “I have performed at fundraising events for other humanitarian causes for 10 years, and now it seems I have come full circle performing at Syrian events.”

He starts rapping his satirical track “Arab Superhero,” just one of his earlier songs that has taken on a new meaning over the past 18 months.

“I wrote ‘Superhero’ from a pretty cynical state: The only way we could solve these problems, which I had heard about my whole life, was if a superhero came flying out of the sky,” he explains after the show. “Lo and behold, the superhero was actually the youth of the Arab world.”

DSHADE x THE NARCICYST x OMAR OFFENDUM: “They Want It All” (Official Music Video) 

“The People Want The Downfall Of The Regime. The People Want The Downfall Of The Regime.”

Syrian-American hip-hop artist Omar Offendum’s new song “#Syria” opens with one of the most powerful political slogans of the year. The chant has reverberated from the streets of Tunis to Libya’s Benghazi to Egypt’s Tahrir Square, echoing the demands of millions for their countries’ rulers to step down.

Offendum’s new song — which has lyrics both in English and Arabic — is a testament to the deep crisis in the artist’s native Syria.

“Stand in solidarity with all your fellow citizens/ Peacefully protesting for an end to all the militance/ Torture & imprisonment/ Murdering of innocence/ Proving that this lying/ lion leader’s rule is illegitimate.”

The song’s video compiles footage of shattered houses, massive protests and injured civilians in Syria. Over the past year, more than 9,000 Syrians have been killed in a merciless crackdown on protesters by the regime of President Bashar Assad, according to UN estimates.

Click the title to read more…

Omar Offendum | #SYRIA (Prod. by Sami Matar) - Excellent track in support of the Syrian Revolution by one of the best independent hip hop artists in the Middle East. 

“If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.” - Archbishop Desmond Tutu

#SYRIA (MP3 Download) — http://soundcloud.com/sami-matar/syria-omar-offendum-sami-matar 

#SYRIA (lyrics+links) — http://offendum.blogspot.com/2012/03/syria.html

OMAR OFFENDUM - STRAIGHT STREET (DEBUT VIDEO)

One of the Arab world’s best hip hop artists debuts his latest video from the album SyrianamericanA

Here is a an excerpt from an interview on Omar’s inspiration for the song:

Another story on my album is called The Street called Straight – it’s about different people I met in my life and during my time in Damascus. They say that Damascus is the longest continuously inhabited city on Earth. And the street called Straight in Damascus might very well be the longest continuously used street. They talk about it in the Bible. It’s where Saint Paul got his sight back.  

So I made up this little tale about these three individuals I met on the street. I try to relate it back to the folks about the street in a hip-hop sense. Because hip-hop is urban – city – in the streets. So I’m just talking about the oldest one, a street called Straight.  

‘Met a spiritual teacher, predecessor to the pusher man.’ The medicine man is the predecessor to the pusher man. The last fellow I meet in this song is a carpenter – ‘predecessor to the architect.’ Biblical references. They all tell me in the end to ‘follow the middle path on a street called straight.’ And following the middle path is a philosophy inherent in a lot of different world religions and life teachings. So I played with that idea.

The Middle East is coming to Montreal - New artwork, installations, collaborations, performances, music - a multimedia experience. 

Catch The Narcicyst and Omar Offendum performing live.

Friday, December 2nd, 2011 at the Under Pressure Fresh Paint Gallery in Montreal (180 Ste. Catherine Street East)  

On January 25, 2011, the day of the first major demonstration in Tahrir Square in Cairo, the 28-year-old Syrian-American rapper Omar Offendum, aka Omar A Chakaki, went to his studio in Los Angeles and wrote a verse calling for the overthrow of the former president Hosni Mubarak.  

He called a fellow rapper, the Iraqi-Canadian and Dubai-born Yassin Alsalman - more widely known as The Narcicyst.  

“Yo, Yassin,” he said. “Do you have time to write a verse?”  

The Narcicyst did and recorded it that same day in Montreal. Quickly the stars aligned: The HBO Def Poet Amir Sulaiman sent in a third verse from Atlanta.  

Freeway, an American Muslim MC, sent a verse from Philadelphia. And finally, the Palestinian-Canadian R&B vocalist Ayah did the hook. Everything was produced by Sami Matar, a Palestinian-American composer from California, and within three days #Jan25Egypt hit YouTube:  

“First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win.”

Click the title to read more….

PBS NEWSHOUR: CONVERSATION - SYRIAN/AMERICAN RAPPER OMAR OFFENDUM