BAGHDAD — Dhia Jabbar hides his oud in a sack when he walks down the street in his Baghdad neighborhood.
Joao Silva for The New York Times
An oud maker in his workshop in central Baghdad. Residents rarely play
the oud in public now for fear of angering militants critical of
secular music.
Dhia Jabbar, in Baghdad, was threatened by militiamen who destroyed another oud.
He used to teach students in the
back room of a photo shop, where the sound could not be heard. But last
week, militia gunmen invaded the store, destroying one of his
instruments and ordering him to stop teaching. He had dreamed of a
performing career, but now he has lost hope.
“Iraq is dead,” he says.
Seven thousand miles away, Rahim Alhaj, who fled Iraq in 1991, carries
his oud without a second thought through the streets of Albuquerque,
where he now lives. In New York, Washington and other cities, he plays
for audiences of hundreds. An album he recorded was recently nominated
for a Grammy Award.
The two musicians are bound by their passion
for the oud, a pear-shaped instrument whose roots run deep in Iraq’s
history. Some say that in its music lies the country’s soul.
Both men trained at the same prestigious conservatory in Baghdad. Both have a deep love for traditional Iraqi melodies.