Yep, I am starting to believe he don't even live in Canada because some times he slip up and used the word "here " instead of "there" like he lives in the States.Cac like typing detected at 'I don't have to'....
Yep, I am starting to believe he don't even live in Canada because some times he slip up and used the word "here " instead of "there" like he lives in the States.Cac like typing detected at 'I don't have to'....
“We were only young. We had no examples, but we knew we had a right to be here.”
To clarify, in keeping with the views of the Polynesian Panthers themselves, Maori are included under the term ‘Pacific Islanders’. Unless stated otherwise, all references to Pacific Islanders in this text includes Maori. In the words of Tigi Ness, “We are living on the biggest Pacific Island.”
While many of you may not have heard of the Polynesian Panthers, hopefully you will have heard of the Black Panthers, a now (arguably) disbanded African American revolutionary left-wing organisation that worked for the self-defence of black people. Over time, the Black Panthers’ initial stand against police brutality in black neighbourhoods became a call for staunch black nationalism for all African Americans. The strength of the movement spawned generations of strong African Americans, to whom the Panthers provided basic human rights—such as their free breakfasts and education for children programmes—and, importantly, personal strength and pride in their heritage.
The Polynesian Panthers group was founded on 16 June 1971, borne from a large mix of Pacific Islanders, including Samoans, Tongans, Niueans and Maori. Tigi Ness, a New Zealand-born Niuean, describes the founders as “former gang members and students”, mere “teenagers in response to the racism we were experiencing in Auckland”. The majority of the founders were high school students, not university students or adults; most were from working class families and inspired by Black Panther founder Huey Newton’s concept of black unity.
The Panthers were mostly first generation New Zealanders. Their parents reaped some of the benefits of New Zealand’s economic boom in the 1960s, when they were encouraged to migrate to New Zealand to provide cheap labour. The government turned a blind eye to expired working visas and illegal migrant workers until the production boom dwindled in the mid-1970s. Although wages were higher, living conditions were often poor and Pacific Islanders were often subject to racism and police harrassment. The fortunes of many Pacific Islanders, who had uprooted their families and lives to work for wages less than the average New Zealander, took a turn for the worse as the economy started on a downward spiral. The government aggressively targeted overstayers—that is, people who illegally remained in the country past their work visa, or failed to get one in the first place—and these first generation New Zealanders were at risk of being sent back to a country, and society, they never knew. The problems many Pacific Islanders already faced in New Zealand were only compounded by this episode in New Zealand history.
On top of fears for their families, many Pacific Islanders lived in dangerous neighbourhoods, with many young people feeling their only options for survival were to join a gang or simply hide at home. The Panthers formed to provide the young with another option. They were searching for something positive—the life their families moved to New Zealand to create, as opposed to the oppressive policies and poverty keeping their cultures and communities downtrodden.
The reasons for joining the Panthers were relatively diverse. Some, like Will Ilolahia, were looking for a better way. Will remembers being a member of the gang ‘Nigs’ (because they were often called ‘******s’), but he was trying to find something more meaningful in life. He began reading American books about the Black Panthers and soon “woke up”. Some chose the Panthers initially for its more aesthetic appeal—as Tigi Ness did—with “black leather, berets, Island shoes, raising their fist”. Once initially formed, the Panthers knocked on doors of people they felt had the same ideals.
The Polynesian Panthers challenged discriminatory practices in areas such as unequal pay, unsatisfactory working and housing conditions, education, police harassment, legal rights and prison visits for families. The extent to which the Pacific Island communities felt these injustices is shocking. Before the Panthers, it was often the norm for Pacific Islander houses to have only cold water. In addition to minimal pay, they were expected to work through all breaks, including unpaid lunch breaks, to keep their jobs.
Police harassment of Pacific Islanders was common from 1974 to the late 1980s. Some were picked up by police and those who weren’t holding papers showing their legal status in New Zealand were arrested. The extent of police harassment was such that Pacific Islanders made up 86 per cent of all prosecutions for overstaying. Police began ‘dawn raids’, knocking down Pacific Islanders’ doors in the early hours of the morning, demanding passports from all occupants. In response, the Polynesian Panthers began “dawn raids” of politicians’ houses by banging on the door with floodlights, demanding to see passports, and running away as politicians came to the door. It only took a few weeks before the Polynesian Panthers effectively stopped all dawn raids on Pacific Islander communities.
Much of the Polynesian Panthers’ work was in empowering the Polynesian community to raise their quality of life. The Panthers organised strikes in factories with substandard working conditions, and the Tenants Aid Brigade (TAB) boycotted and protested outside sub-standard housing. To combat failing grades at school, the Panthers organised homework centres—locations simply with tables, chairs and a quiet space so students could do their homework. Many Pacific Islander families simply did not know their rights or entitlements, and the Panthers ensured that knowledge was passed on and utilised.
The Panthers provided much needed assistance to Polynesians caught up in legal wrangles. Pamphlets were distributed advising individuals of their rights, such as being able to ask police whether they were being arrested, and what for. Legal aid was often provided to individuals needing court representation. One of the most successful initiatives was organising buses to prisons, so families could visit, and further support was provided to prisoners who had no family on the outside. While this was a free service, prisoners gifted the Panthers substantial amounts of the money earned in prison to show their gratitude.
The Panthers, along with many Pacific Island youth, also supported Maori causes and political events, such as the 1975 Land March and Bastion Point occupation. The Panthers became adept at political lobbying, which became apparent during the dawn raids in the 1970s, and the Springbok Tour of 1981. Tigi Ness was jailed for his actions during the tour, but was eventually released without charge. Will Ilolahia, along with Hone Harawira and others, was on trial for two years, only getting off the charge after Bishop Desmond Tutu flew in to be a character witness.
Many of the Panthers voiced concern that the government’s way of control was to divide and conquer the minorities, and as a result they banded together to fight the threat to their cultures and communities. Miriama Rauhihi-Ness remembers a time when being Maori and embracing Maori culture was “literally… cut out of you at school, all of it”. She cites the 1975 Land March as a turning point, where New Zealand society began to be more accepting of Maori culture, both within Maoridom and in Pakeha society. Nowadays, all Panthers encourage Maori and Pacific Islanders to remain strongly banded together as whanau, with pride in their heritage.
Many prominent Arab hip-hop artists inspired by uprisings in the Middle East and North Africa have released music in solidarity with protesters in the region. Though the messages of these new songs are not necessarily new to Arab hip-hop, the urgency and relevance of this new music has gained these artists increasing international attention.
While Arab hip-hop started to gain its recognition in the ‘90s, tracing back the history can be difficult in light of the fact that it stems from such a complex fusion of diasporic communities, people, art and culture. In North America, for instance, artists such as Fredwreck and The Narcicyst are cited as pioneers of Arab hip-hop, while groups such as DAM are credited with jump-starting the movement in Palestine.
In a conversation with Excentrik, an East Bay music producer, "actionist" (action activist and oud player), he explained, “Yeah, there’s an Arab hip-hop scene, but it’s a global scene, it’s not like a localized scene. Unfortunately, there’s not enough cats doing quality shyt that have like a [single] place to go in any of these cities... It’s an esoteric scene, it’s random because it’s so big and so spread apart.” While there are certainly active indigenous Arab hip-hop scenes throughout much of North Africa and the Middle East, the majority of the most celebrated emcees in the global scene are based in North America and Europe, where hip-hop has had a longer history and faces less challenges in terms of censorship.
That said, artists still find opportunities to collaborate and work together across both national and international lines. “Most of us Arab rappers are very well connected,” said Rush of Cairo’s premier rap group, Arabian Knightz. Collaborations between rappers can be recorded from different studios and files can be shared with the click of a mouse. “The combination of hip-hop and the Internet, and the ability to record it and put it up online immediately and bypass all these typical media outlets and typical industry outlets is what makes it so powerful,” explained Syrian-American rapper Omar Offendum in a phone interview from Los Angeles.
In North America, Iraqi-Canadian rapper, The Narcicyst and Omar Offendum are two of the most highly acclaimed emcees in the global Arab hip-hop scene. Omar Offendum often evokes the work of Arab poets through his lyrics, emphasizing the links between poetry and hip-hop. The Narcicyst, who recently released a book entitled “Fear of an Arab Planet: The Diatribes of a Dying Tribe,” touches on themes ranging from Orientalism to homeland security in his music. One of his most popular songs, ‘P.H.A.T.W.A.’ released in 2009, is set in an airport. “We went from, supported to subordinate, can’t afford it, ordered / My motherland smothered and mortared, morbid, at borders / I’m sorted out from beardless cats that boarded the plane as I was boarding,” The Narcicyst raps.
The UK also boasts some of the world’s most recognized Arab rap artists such as Lowkey, who is of British and Iraqi heritage, and Palestinian rapper, Shadia Mansour, also known as “The First Lady of Arabic Hip-Hop.” Both are known for linking artistry and activism, rapping about topics such as Palestinian resistance, occupation and terrorism. “They calling me a terrorist / Like they don’t know who the terror is / When they put it on me, I tell them this / I’m all about peace and love / They calling me a terrorist / Like they don’t know who the terror is / Insulting my intelligence / Oh how these people judge,” raps Lowkey in the song “Terrorist.” Together, they have toured extensively and collaborated on titles such as “Long Live Palestine” which incorporates Mansour’s distinctive Arabic flow and emotive singing voice.
Rapping in the Middle East
In Tunisia, a young emcee by the name of El Général was among the first in the Arab hip-hop scene to gain international attention for his raps related to the most recent waves of political unrest in the North Africa. He released two songs “Rais Le Bled” (President Your People Are Dying) and “Tounes Bladna” (Tunisia, Our Country) which were both included on the Mish B3eed mixtape put out by ‘Enough,’ a Libyan movement voicing dissent against the Gadhafi regime.
According to The UK’s Observer newspaper, “Rais Le Bled,” released in November 2010 “lit up the bleak and fearful horizon like an incendiary bomb,” reaching audiences around the world through new media platforms such as YouTube. “My president, your country is dead / People eat garbage / Look at what is happening / Misery everywhere / Nowhere to sleep / I'm speaking for the people who suffer,” he raps in Arabic. The song was quickly banned in Tunisia, but Al Jazeera Television and Tunivision were still able to pick up on the El Général story followed by other notable media outlets such as TIME magazine. Shortly thereafter, the release of “Tounes Bladna” (Tunisia, Our Country) resulted in the 21-year-old rapper’s arrest from his family’s flat in the town of Sfax in Tunisia. El Général was released after three days of interrogation thanks to an outpouring of public protest in his favor.
The January 25 uprisings in Egypt sparked a second wave of protest music from the global Arab hip-hop scene, fueling an outpour from prominent artists such as The Narcicyst, Shadia Mansour, Lowkey and Omar Offendum. This time, the songs would be multinational collaborations, incorporating news clips from Al Jazeera and photos from demonstrations in the music videos.
On February 4, just weeks after the January 25 demonstrations, Egyptian rap group Arabian Knightz posted the song “Not Your Prisoner” featuring Shadia Mansour, and Palestinian-American producer, Fredwreck on YouTube. Lyrics alternate between English and Arabic, opening the dialogue to a larger international audience. “Destructive destruction, running my district / Antichrist running it, spittin’ evil wisdom!” raps Rush (one of three members in the group). The song became an instant YouTube success, accruing thousands of views within 24 hours of being posted.
When asked in a Skype interview about the role of their music in bringing about social change, Rush replied, “The people who started the revolution are teenagers. I doubt that the motive of the revolution, the music they were listening to while planning all these things, was ‘habibi’ music. I am sure it was hip-hop.” The ‘habibi’ music Rush refers to can be described as sentimental, easy-listening pop that is widespread in Arabic media channels. That music, according to many Arab hip-hop artists, fails to address the real concerns of youth on the front lines of protest throughout the Middle East and North Africa.
The North American Connection
A few days later, North American artists The Narcicyst, Omar Offendum, Freeway, Ayah, Amir Sulaiman and producer, Sami Matar contributed to the dialogue with a collaboration entitled “#Jan25.” The song, posted on YouTube, has drawn nearly 200,000 views, and even caught the attention of Al Jazeera, which interviewed Omar Offendum shortly after the song was released.
“I heard ‘em say / The revolution wont be televised / Al Jazeera proved ‘em wrong / Twitter has ‘em paralyzed / 80 million strong / And ain't no longer gonna be terrorized / Organized - Mobilized - Vocalized / On the side of TRUTH,” raps Omar Offendum in the opening verse of the song. The use of graphic Al Jazeera news clips and gorilla photography throughout much of the music video is illustrates the grassroots nature of the Arab hip-hop scene, using a combination of audio and visual media to communicate their message to a growing audience of listeners.
In the meantime, mounting tensions in Libya inspired 26-year-old Chicago rapper M. Khaled to release a music video entitled “Can't Take Our Freedom," featuring UK rapper, Lowkey. The first lines of the chorus, “You can’t take our freedom, or take our soul / Take our freedom or take our soul / You are not the one that’s in control / You are not the one that’s in control,” sum up the overall message of the song speaking to the Gadhafi regime.
"It was never my intention to be a political rapper, or write political songs," said M. Khaled in an interview with Arab Detroit News. Even so, this most recent release has become one of his most popular tracks to date. This song also seems to tie back to the legacy of his father, Mohamed Ahmed, who was reportedly held as a political prisoner in Libya for five years after leading student protests against the Gadhafi regime. "Like, could we be this close? Nah, couldn't be / But if the people in Egypt and Tunis could do this, decide their fate...then why wouldn't we?” raps M. Khaled.
Although the original music video for “Can’t Take Our Freedom” was removed from YouTube for reasons that are not entirely clear, several fans have reposted the song using their own personal online accounts. In addition to gaining popularity online, the song attracted the attention of media outlets such as ABC World News and CNN that profiled the story of the young rapper.
The Solidarity Rap
Each of these new protest songs in their own way illustrates a collective consciousness around growing political unrest in the Middle East and North Africa among artists in the Arab hip-hop scene. Solidarity with protesters is the central theme that runs throughout much of this new music. This solidarity is also reflected in the collaborative nature of many of these pieces featuring hip-hop artists who are spread across different cities and continents. Even on a local front, Bay Area hip-hop pioneer Davey D released a “Beats for Revolution Mixtape” that features “Not Your Prisoner” and “#Jan25,” alongside the sounds of Dead Prez, Public Enemy and Immortal Technique.
As political unrest continues to unfold throughout much of the Middle East and North Africa, many Arab hip-hop artists are optimistic, but cautious. “One thing governments cannot take away from the people is the will to live,” wrote Lebanese-Armenian Bay Area rap artist Tru Bloo in an e-mail. “I think we, in the U.S., have a lot to learn from these movements,” she added.
“There is a hopefulness and a sobering feeling,” said Oakland-based Lebanese American soul singer, Naima Shalhoub, of the ongoing events.
Still, artists involved in the Arab hip-hop scene remain inspired by the significance that music has in motivating and empowering youth. “The way kids listen to music is a really powerful thing,” said London-based rapper Logic after his concert at the University of California, Berkeley with Shadia Mansour and Lowkey last month.
Realizing the power that their music has to speak to youth in the face of adversity, Arab hip-hop artists do not take their work lightly. “Music plays a big role in influencing people,” said The Narcicyst, “and I almost think for our generation... music speaks to us louder than politics does.”
Hip-hop plays a central role in the revolts in Tunisia, Egypt, Algeria and Libya. Rap songs create an important platform for communication creating moral support and encouraging a spirit of resistance and revolt against the regime.
A new music anthology, ‘Khala’s Mixtape
Volume 1’, offers an opportunity to listen
to the sound of Arabic rap song resistance
“Music plays a big role in influencing people, and
I almost think for our generation… music speaks
to us louder than politics does.”
The Narcicyst, Montreal-based rapper with Iraqi background
“The Arabic revolutions have largely been a revolt by the young, who have made clear they are no longer willing to live in a climate of corruption, repression and hopelessness. And, like every youth revolution, this one has its own sound,” wrote Anne-Beatrice Clasmann of the US news site M&C: “Since the weight of the protests have been carried by the young, the protest songs are not the classic marches or ballads that were used when Arabic countries rose up against colonizers. Instead, today’s protest songs are all hip-hop and Oriental pop. Many of the songs aren’t available in stores. To find them, one has to go to YouTube or other websites.”
“The fact that many musicians place themselves in the front line has inspired a lot of people in the Middle East to question the rules that the system has pulled down over their heads,” told Freemuse Programme Officer Martin Buch Larsen who recently travelled in the region:
“The rappers are in their 20s, often reasonably well educated, and they see music as a way they can express themselves on the issues they are confronted with in their daily lives. They rap about unemployment, poor housing, mismanagement, corruption. And that is what makes the political leaders so furious. But the leaders’ rage has had the opposite effect: Rappers have suddenly acquired a kind of revolutionary celebrity,” he said.
Rappers mobilize
“The combination of hip-hop and the Internet, and the ability to record it and put it up online immediately and bypass all these typical media outlets and typical industry outlets is what makes it so powerful,” explained Syrian-American rapper Omar Offendum over the phone from Los Angeles in an interview with New America Media.
Most of all it is the sound of hip-hop beats and rap texts that characterize ‘the Arab Spring’, and also in countries like Angola, Sudan and Senegal it is rappers who lead the way when demonstrations are to organized. In Sudan in February the hip-hop artist Ahmad spent 12 days in jail, where he was tortured. In Angola in March rapper Brigadeiro Mata Frakuzx was taken into custody along with 16 other hip-hoppers who had read poems and distributed flyers where Frakuzx talked about fighting the ‘culture of fear’ that he believes the authorities are creating. In Senegal in March, the rap group Keur Gui was arrested for organizing a ‘protest roadshow’.
Below we have compiled information about hip-hop artists in the Middle East as well as the Arab hip-hop in the Western world:
Tunisia
In Tunisia, a 21-year-old rapper by the name of El Général was among the first in the Arab hip-hop scene to gain international attention for his raps related to the waves of political unrest and revolution in North Africa. He released two songs, ‘Rais Le Bled’ in November 2010 and ‘Tounes Bladna’ in December 2010, which led to his arrest in the beginning of January 2011, and an outpouring of public protest in his favor. He was released after three days of interrogation, and his rap songs reached audiences around the world through new media platforms such as YouTube.
The Tunisian president Zine el-Abidine Ben Ali fled office later in January 2011 under popular pressure, and dozens of revolutionary rap songs have been composed and published in the months since
‘Rais Le Bled’ and ‘Tounes Bladna’ were both included on the ‘Mish B3eed’ mixtape published by Khala – Arabic for ‘enough’ – a Libyan organisation which was formed in 2009 in response to Gaddafi’s first speech at the UN. The goal was to raise awareness of the dictatorship in Libya
Egypt
In January and February 2011, young hip-hoppers were helping to ignite the fire in Egypt’s revolt against Hosni Mubarak. One of them is 29-year-old Omar Boflot (real name: Omar Al-Missiry) and his group, Y Crew. Like most Middle Eastern rappers Y Crew record their songs on the computer and then put them on the web.
On 4 February 2011, just weeks after the 25 January demonstrations and uprisings in Egypt, one of the leading Egyptian rap groups, Arabian Knightz, posted their song ‘Not Your Prisoner’ featuring the UK-based Palestian rapper Shadia Mansour, also known as ‘The First Lady of Arabic Hip-Hop’, and the Palestinian-American producer Fredwreck on YouTube where it quickly received thousands of views.
Libya
The new music anthology from Khala, ‘Khala’s Mixtape Volume 1’, offers an opportunity to listen to the sound of Arabic rap song resistance.
A Libyan rapper, Ibn Thabit, is represented with three tracks on Khala’s mixtape. He posted the song ‘Al-Soo’al’ on YouTube on 27 January 2011, weeks before the riots began in Libya.
The lyrics go:
“I was affected more by conversations with my fellow countrymen than by anything else,” Ibn Thabit told a journalist from the Danish newspaper Information. Ibn Thabit has been critizising the regime in Libya in his rap since 2008.
‘Al-Soo’al’ (The Issue)
“Muammar: You have never served the people
Muammar: You’d better give up
Confess. You cannot escape
Our revenge will catch you
As a train roars through a wall
We will drown you”
Under Colonel Gaddafi, local rap music was never aired on state-controlled radio stations. “Musicians knew certain subjects – such as directly criticising the government – were taboo. Artists had to circulate their tracks on the internet or mobile phones,” wrote Matthew Green and Andrew England in Financial Times.
“Last April, members of Col Gaddafi’s revolutionary committees – a quasi-paramilitary force used to control cities, towns and villages across the north African nation – confiscated instruments in a crackdown on student performers in Benghazi.”
The Libyan artists veiled their criticism of the country’s autocracy by using metaphors. For example, Guys Underground, a Benghazi rock band, composed a song entitled “Like My Father Always Says” to mock a stern patriarch, a veiled reference to Col Gaddafi. After much deliberation, the band released the track before the uprising.
According to the article in Financial Times, another positive development for musicians in the opposition-controlled east is that they are able to air their work on the rebel-controlled Free Libya, composing anthems aimed at inspiring fighters – and persuading government forces it is time to rise up against the regime.
“You can burn all the bodies, you can bury them in the ground, they will rise up from their ashes, just to bring you down,” runs the refrain of a revolutionary song sung by Ahmed “Sasi”, 29, another artist tapping into the revolutionary zeal.
Syria
In April 2011, the 25-year-old Danish pop singer and rapper Mazen Ismail was in Damascus studying Arabic as an exchange student. One day he was picked up at the university by the Syrian intelligence service for a three-hour long interrogation in which he sat on a small chair in a cold interrogation room in front of an intelligence officer, being questioned about the music which he has published in Denmark with a group Lagix.
The officer asked to a specific hit song of his and whether the (Danish) lyrics contained criticism of Syria.Finally Mazen Ismail was allowed to go — with an instruction that he could not say anything bad about the Syrian society, and that he should use his music to “say something good about the regime.”
“In Denmark we often perceive music as a kind of hobby, but in Syria, the authorities are aware of the forces that lie in the music when used as a mouthpiece — it is something that can change people’s mindsets,” said Mazen Ismail who made sure to finish his study quickly and now is back in Denmark.
Gaza
“Rap, by definition, is revolutionary” told Fadi Bakheet, member of the hip-hop group DARG (Da Arabian Revolutionary Guys) in Gaza, to the newspaper MetroXpress: “Our music has a double meaning, but people understand what we mean. Two years ago, we were prohibited from making music in Gaza, but we kept doing it anyway. The music here is underground, so we’re pretty hard to track.”
Solidarity world-wide
The January uprisings in Egypt sparked a wave of protest music from the global Arab hip-hop scene, fueling an outpour from hip-hop artists based in the US and Canada such as The Narcicyst (real name: Yassin Alsalman), an Iraqi journalist and hip-hop MC who was born and raised in Dubai and today lives in Montreal in Canada, and from UK-based hip-hop artists such as Lowkey, who is referred to as “one of world’s most recognised Arab rap artists”.
In the US, many hip-hop artists inspired by uprisings in the Middle East and North Africa have released music in solidarity with protesters in the region. American hip-hop pioneer Davey D released a ‘Beats for Revolution Mixtape’ that features ‘Not Your Prisoner’ and ‘#Jan25’ alongside the sounds of Dead Prez, Public Enemy and Immortal Technique.
The Narcicyst
El Général
Youth movement in the line of fire
From Morocco to Bahrain, everyday people have taken on the cast iron hold of dictatorships and absolute monarchies resulting in an extraordinary collective awakening that has paved the way for epochal change in the region. The youth movement, which lies at the core of the uprisings, continues to play a prominent role in the pro-democracy and pro-reform demonstrations, which have swept through the region, unabated by government clampdowns or concessions.
To date, there have been revolutions in Tunisia and Egypt, a civil war in Libya, major protests in Algeria, Bahrain, Djibouti, Iraq, Jordan, Syria, Oman, Iran and Yemen and minor protests in Kuwait, Lebanon, Mauritania, Morocco, Saudi Arabia, Sudan and Western Sahara. The protests have also triggered similar unrest outside the region, including in Azerbaijan. Fuelled by unemployment, restrictions on freedom of expression and government corruption, the protests proved to be the ultimate litmus test for government’s tolerance of freedom of assembly and freedom of expression, across the Middle East and North Africa.
Graffiti of Tupac Shakur in Mauritania. (Photo: Jean-Pierre Filiu)
Rap and hip-hop were both a driving force, and a coping mechanism, for people in the Middle East and North Africa during the Arab Spring. In particular, the music of Tupac Shakur resonates with Arabs, long after the U.S. rapper's own death. But why? Michel Martin looks for an answer, along with Khaled M, a Libyan-American rapper.
[url=http://www.podtrac.com/pts/redirect.mp3/cdn.pri.org/sites/default/files/migration/PriMigrationsDamanticMediaAudioMigration/media.blubrry.com/world/www.podtrac.com/pts/redirect.mp3/media.theworld.org/audio/030520137.mp3] Jean-Pierre Filiu, a professor of Middle Eastern Studies at the School of International Studies, SciencesPo in Paris, is in Boston to lecture at Harvard on the topic revolution, Islamism and jihad in North Africa, but he stopped by our studio to talk with anchor Marco Werman about his other interest, hip hop inspired by the Arab Spring.[/URL]
During Spring 2010, Iraqi rapper Lowkey and Palestinian lyricist Shadia Mansour joined scholar Norman Finkelstein on his book tour to tell the truth about the Israeli military's attack on the Gaza Strip. Cultures of Resistance was at a number of these performances, where the artists complemented Finkelstein's talks with hip-hop tracks and spoken word. Later, Cultures of Resistance followed the artists to the studio where they discussed the convergence of their music and political activism.[/qu