For Iraqis, an Idol to Rival Sanjaya
March 31, 2007 — -- It was a contest that captivated a nation.
In Iraq, it was a reason to celebrate and escape the daily grind of violence and car-bombs as Shada Hassoon, the Iraqi contestant in this year's Star Academy competition, won first prize in an emotional finale on the Middle East's version of "American Idol."
As the announcement was made, Hassoon burst into joyful tears and proudly draped herself in the Iraqi flag as the presenters adorned her with flowers and fans besieged the stage to worship their star.
The 26-year-old singer, nicknamed the "Daughter of Mesopotamia," was born in Casablanca, Morocco, and was educated in Paris. Hassoon is only half Iraqi -- her mother is Moroccan and her father is from Hilla, a town 60 miles south of Baghdad, and is a member of a mixed Sunni-Shiite tribe. In the Middle East, nationality is determined by the father.
For Iraqis, there was no doubt from the start that Hassoon was one of their own, representing a bright future amidst a bleak landscape mired by sectarian violence.
No one knows exactly whether she is Sunni or Shiite, and it would seem that has made her all the more popular, as Iraqis look to her as a symbol of hope and unity regardless of which sect she hails from.
Shada-mania swept the country. Every Friday since December, Iraqis were glued to their TVs, eagerly devouring her performances.
In one show she performed "Baghdad," a classic made famous by Lebanese diva, Fairuz. During rehearsals, she was so moved by the significance of the song, which powerfully portrays a city overwhelmingly rich in beauty and history, that she broke-down in tears in a display that sent many Iraqis swooning with emotion. In other episodes, she was seen to protest the violence in Iraq that she complained was distracting the attention away from her and her votes.
Voting Despite Violence
But Iraqis did vote. They voted in millions in the past week, taking advantage of the reduced cell-phone tariffs that had been slashed to a third of the normal price to encourage as much voting as possible.
The Iraqi satellite channel, Al Sharqiya, launched a campaign to support Hassoon, allocating hours of time devoted to their new heroine. People texted in messages of support that were then broadcast in banners across the screen.
Hassoun also represents another image of Iraqi women that is more befitting to the highly-manufactured image represented by the glamorous Lebanese singers that dominate the music charts in the Middle East.
Since the war in 2003, women have undergone a significant change in their public appearance. The escalating violence between each sect has forced women to dress in a far more modest manner so as not to attract attention.
In public, the great majority of women, Muslim and Christian alike, don the Hejab -- the Islamic headdress -- which, in many cases, has been enforced in areas guarded by militia groups affiliated to Islamist organizations.
Nevertheless, many Iraqis were carried away by the "Shada-fever" that was dominating both the media and local chit-chat alike. In one neighborhood, a normally stingy local electricity supplier kept the community generator running all night so people could watch the finale at a time where there is a huge shortage of city power.
A school headmistress urged her teaching colleagues to vote and lent her phone out to those who did. The gesture cost her $60, no menial amount here where the average teacher's monthly salary is $250.
As Hassoon's cheeks streamed with tears of joy, the sound of gunfire pelted the night sky here in Baghdad. But, for a change, the celebratory shooting was ringing-in the victory of their new "Daughter of Mesopotamia."