Dancing to a Spiritual Beat

Arie Hasit
Harvard University
KOACH Senior Intern

"Hayam ra’ah v’yanos, HaYarden yisov l’ahor." "The sea saw and fled, the Jordan retreated." These words, according to Jewish tradition, are used to pray to God as part of the Hallel service. However, they recently made it not only to the ears of Jewish davveners (those who pray), but also to all lovers of Israeli music. The 2002 hit "Medabrim al Shalom" ("Talking about Peace"), Mookie’s smash hip-hop ballad, featured these lines as the introduction to his song about peace, politics and Israeli society.

While the incorporation of tefillah and Israeli music may not be surprising, hip-hop may not seem like the type of music most likely to do so. Mookie, however, was no stranger to Jewish allusions, quoting the Haggadah at the beginning of his band Shabak Samech’s hit, "Nofel veKam" ("Fall and Get Up") and neither are most members of the Israeli hip hop scene. While bling bling and bikinis aren’t absent from Israeli hip hop, you’re just as likely to hear about Torah or God as you are about cars and parties.

Religion’s relationship with Israeli hip-hop dates back to the beginning of Israeli hip-hop itself. Before moving thousands of dancers with "HaFinale" and inspiring Zionism with "Tikvah," superstar Subliminal recorded a song called "Mitpallel." In this song, Subliminal takes the topics hip-hop is known for, feeling oppressed and marginalized, and turns them to God. HaDag Nachash does the same in their song "Elokim Sheli, Ratziti Sh’Teda" ("My God, I Wanted You to Know"), in which they are clearly yelling at God, a Jewish concept that dates back to Abraham’s argument with God over the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah.

While these artists have topped the charts with their pleas to and arguments with God, the producers of Israeli hip-hop feel even stronger about keeping God in the hip-hop scene. Chulu, the D.J. and rapper who first produced Subliminal, often introduces reggae to his rappers, hoping that reggae’s religiousness will influence them. "The one thing still missing from hip-hop that reggae has is God. When they sing about Jah, they mean the same God we worship," he said. Daddy G, another of Israel’s hip-hop pioneers, has gone as far as to record reggae/hip hop recordings of classic Jewish texts, such as Esa Einai. He feels that hip-hop expresses the upbeat attitude that he wants in praising God, and brings in other artists to record with that mentality.

Like all popular imports in Israel, the future of Israeli hip-hop is uncertain. Depending on which Israeli one asks, hip-hop could fall off the charts by next week, or it can remain popular in Israel for as long as Israelis listen to music. One thing is for certain, though: as long as hip-hop remains in the Jewish state, it will have a Jewish bent.

[Posted 9/15/04]