Remembering Ziad Rahbani: a voice of rebellion whose words still echo in Lebanon

Report by Yazbek Wehbe, English adaptation by Karine Keuchkerian

Ziad Rahbani wasn’t just a creative genius—though he rejected being called one—he was also a popular philosopher and a sharp critic in his own unique way. He wasn’t concerned with pleasing anyone as much as he was driven by rejection of, and rebellion against, the reality around him. His entire life was an expression of that resistance, in his own voice.

Rahbani was a philosopher of the people—a mirror for those who felt he was speaking their pain and truth, especially during the civil war and in a country fractured along sectarian lines.

Coming from a communist, leftist background, he despised classism and fought it.

Many of the phrases he used in his earliest plays became part of everyday speech, passed down from generation to generation. His lyrics turned him into a cultural compass for those seeking to describe specific social realities.

Themes of livelihood, daily struggle, and survival frequently appeared in his work because they reflected the concerns of ordinary people.

He described sectarian and religious conflict in his own way, and many still quote his words today.

One haunting question, which he and many Lebanese wrestled with, became the title of one of his plays—a question still repeated today: بالنسبة لبكرا شو؟ (What about tomorrow?)

He never ruled out anything happening in Lebanon. To him, everything was possible: "In this country, anything can happen."

For the many political, military, and economic analysts who claim to understand everything, Rahbani had much to say—and he wrote accordingly: حاج تحلل وحياتك تسلملي تحليلاتك (Stop analyzing, for the love of God. Spare me your analyses).

One unforgettable scene that mothers still reference today comes from one of his plays: waiting anxiously for their children’s school grades: إبنك حمار يا ثريا ، علاماتو تحت الصفر...عم يدرس بسيبيريا (Your son is an idiot, Thourayya. His grades are below zero—it's like he's studying in Siberia).

Romantic relationships, with all their complications, were also present in his music and theater.

Ziad Rahbani was a true mirror of society. He avoided concealing any detail. That was his distinction—his words remain relevant across time and place: before, during, and after the war, in a country called Lebanon, where joy is scarce, sorrow is common, and contradictions abound. He portrayed them all in his own way.

His plays offered a vivid panorama of Lebanese society. That’s why they entered the minds and hearts of audiences without resistance and became part of everyday conversation.

Rahbani’s quotes have become cultural trends. Few are unfamiliar with them—and they are certain to remain in the collective memory of generations for years and decades to come.