A liturgical chant sends Osama Kamal into a metaphysical reverie The light of the heart remains distant, ineffable and disembodied, difficult to glimpse except in the rare moments when the soul is clear and the mind is still; when we are at peace with ourselves and the world. But the light remains to flicker from afar, a beckoning pulse on the horizon of a world that, however inaccessible, is undeniably true. It is a world where exceptional beings dwell, basking in heavenly joy; thrilled by the possibilities of the unknown. To chant a litany is to step into a world of enchantment. To pray in melodious tones is to encroach upon the divine and turn piety into art. On the walls of ancient temples, one sees the images of banner bearers, musicians, and singers, accompanied by a chorus of dancers. Isis, Amun, and Ra all had their litanies, and had songs written in their honour and performed without fail in seasonal and religious activities. Ancient prayers are still recorded on papyrus scrolls spanning the Pharaonic and Coptic eras. Chanting for God preceded Islam, and when the new religion came to Egypt, the chanters went on with business as usual. Minor tweaking done, a world of religious singing opened up to the new faith. Islam, even when was still confined to the Arab peninsula, also had a melodious voice. The early Muslims decided to announce the times of their prayers through chanting. The azan we hear today goes back all the way to Bilal bin Rabah, the man Prophet Mohamed esteemed for his piety as well as his intonation. The prophet was not breaking with tradition when he told Bilal to call people to prayer in a melodious tone. The Bedouin tribes of Arabia knew a good song when they heard one, and they heard many and sang many to help their camels stay the course during the long caravan travel. The Ummayyad and Abbasid courts were also known for their great singers, and the Fatimids made an art of festive celebrations in which religious singing was a major event. In Egypt, there is a history of religious chanting that is still alive to this day. Who can forget the dreamlike chanting of men such as Sheikh El-Maslub, Darwish El-Hariri, Ismail Sokkar, Ali Mahmoud, and Taha El-Fashni? One of the great singers was Sayed El-Naqshabandi, a man whose voice made him a household name as well as an ever-lasting presence on Egyptian radio waves. El-Naqshabandi's voice was as sweet as the water of ablution; as translucent as the lanterns of mosques; as melodious as birds at dawn. El-Naqshabandi was born in Demeira, near Talkha, in 1920. His family was originally from Bukhara, in today's Uzbekistan. His grandfather, Mohamed Bahaaeddin El-Naqshabandi, came from Bokhara to Cairo to study at Al-Azhar. His father was a well-known scholar and one of the sheikhs of the Sufi Naqshabandi Society that traced its roots to Salman Al-Farisi, one of the sahaba, or associates of Prophet Mohamed. El-Naqshabandi memorised the Quran before he was eight years old, having studied it with Sheikh Ahmed Khalil in Tanta. As a child he had a chance to visit the moulid festivities marking the birthdays of the walis (Muslim saints) Abul-Hajjaj El-Aqsari, Abdel-Rahim El-Qenawi and Galaleddin El-Assyouti. He memorised the poetry of El-Boseiri and Ibn El-Farid before, aged 20, he started reciting the Quran in public during Ramadan. It was not much later that El-Naqshabandi embarked on a career of religious chanting. In 1955 he moved to Tanta, and his reputation as a religious singer took off. In 1966 at the Al-Hussein Mosque in Cairo El-Naqshabandi met Ahmed Farrag, a radio presenter, who recorded some of his chants for the programme Fi Rihab Allah (In the Presence of God). After this El-Naqshabandi became a familiar figure in recording studios. He recorded several chants for the programme Doaa (Prayer) which was broadcast regularly after the maghreb (sunset) call to prayer. He also took part in the television programmes Fi Nur Al-Asmaa Al-Hosna (In the Light of the Blessed Names) and the programme Al-Baheth An Al-Haqiqa (Seeker of Truth ), the latter being the story of Salman Al-Farisi. El-Naqshabandi had some of the country's greatest musicians composing for him, including Mahmoud Al-Sherif, Sayed Makawi, Ahmed Sidqi and Helmi Amin. He also composed dozens of his songs himself, including Ya Rabb In Azamat Zenubi (O God If My Sins Are Too Big), Sobhanak Allah (May God's Name be Exalted) and Aghib wa Zu Al-Lataef la Yaghib (I Disappear but the Miracle Maker Does Not). Experts say that El-Naqshabandi's register was much wider than the average, and that he could take his falsetto effortlessly into soprano and mezzo-soprano. Radio added to his appeal. For a Ramadan to go by without listening to El-Naqshabandi's songs on the radio would have been unthinkable. The best period in El-Naqshabandi's career was when he collaborated with the composer Baligh Hamdi. The person who encouraged the two to work together was the late president Anwar El-Sadat, an aficionado of religious singing if ever there was one. El-Naqshabandi was not just a singer; he had within him the essence of Egyptian religious devotion and infatuation with the divine. From ancient times, Egyptians could not figure a world without an afterlife, a world in which the priesthood or clergy did not sing the praises of heaven. Baligh Hamdi was the epitome of Egyptian innovation at the time. He was credited with introducing new rhythms and styles to oriental music, and it was not long before he transferred his virtuosity to religious singing. Many saw Hamdi as a new Sayed Darwish, the composer- singer who took Egypt by storm at the turn of the 20th century, reviving the tradition of folk singing and reformulating it for stage performances. Initially, El-Naqshabandi hesitated at Sadat's suggestion. He could not believe that Hamdi, who was specialised in romantic songs, would understand the nature of religious singing. He was about to ditch the whole idea when Wagdi El-Hakim, a well-known radio presenter, advised him to try at least one session with Hamdi. After all, you do not lightly snub an idea suggested by the president of the republic. Hakim made a deal with El-Naqshabandi. Hamdi suggested that if he liked the tunes, El-Naqshabandi would take off his turban as a sign of approval. The two went to the session, and it is said that when El-Naqshabandi heard what Hamdi had come up with he not only took off his turban but was about to dispense of his flowing robes as well. From then on, El-Naqshabandi told his friends that the best of his work was that in which he collaborated with Hamdi. The two went on to produce such classics as Mulai Inni be Babek (God I am at Your Door), Ashraq Al-Maasum (Shone the Infallible One), Ya Dar Al-Arqam ("O House of Arqam"), and Zekra Badr (Memories of Badr). Hamdi introduced short and powerful musical sentences and, in a break up with liturgical tradition, he had El-Naqshabandi accompanied by electric guitar and keyboard. The two artists started working together in 1971, a time when Egypt was fighting a low-intensity war on the Suez Canal. However, their songs became even more popular following the 1973 War. Suddenly, the hope to which they alluded became tangible. Their prayers did not only console. They were answered. The two artists gave voice to the tolerant piety of Egypt, the piety that believes in God, in the Prophet Mohamed and in all the companions of the prophet, and that tolerates other religions. This brand of faith is one that prompts Christians to attend the moulid of Ahmed El-Badawi and Muslims to flock to the moulid of Saint Damiana. God is love, and love is indiscriminate. The songs produced by El-Naqshabandi and Hamdi outlived them both, and are now the jewels in the religious repertoire. To this day, few have matched the heights the two had scaled. Since the death of El-Naqshabandi and Nasreddin Tobar, few great religious singers have come along. With the exception of Sheikh Yassin El-Tohami, the art of religious singing has fallen on hard times. And with the rise of Wahabi tendencies in the country, one doubts that the feats of Naqshabandi and Hamdi will be repeated anytime soon.
