Beirut’s sun never sets
The death of Lebanon's immortal diva Sabah sparks memories of the magic of Beirut, still luring admirers through war and turmoil.
The moment I landed in Beirut, I learned the famous singer Sabah had died Nov. 26 at the age of 87. The immortal diva had been a household name for all those familiar with Lebanon and Arab music and cinema, especially the Egyptian films that influenced the region far and wide, including Turkey’s film industry of the 1950s, 1960s and even the 1970s for good measure.
Thousands of Sabah's admirers, from statesmen to average citizens, filled a downtown Beirut church Nov. 30 to say farewell to the legend. Beirut's Daily Star reported: “Perhaps the most touching of all tags was the one written by the other legendary icon of Lebanese art, Fairouz, 'Your sun never sets,' she wrote.”
Beirutis said Sabah in her will had asked not for mourning, but for joy and music at her funeral. The most touching tribute came from the Lebanese army, which sent its band to play the songs she sang lauding and supporting it during the civil war (1975-90). Walid Jumblatt — the veteran Lebanese politician and Druze leader and one of my Twitter followers whom I in turn follow — tweeted of Sabah in English: “Sad news today. The legendary singer Sabah died. With her passing away an entire beautiful past of Lebanon passes away.”
As I have always done when in Beirut, I asked while passing by the Raouche neighborhood on the seafront, where Fairouz has her residence, “Is she still around?” My Lebanese friends confirmed that she was. As long as the other legend is around, Beirut’s sun never sets.
