“To hear her voice is to make life livable,” Egyptian theatre director Hassan el-Gueretly once said of the legendary Lebanese singer and actress Sabah. “It makes you think she has a lot more life than many people who are living.”
Extravagant, unapologetic, and endlessly glamorous, Sabah was a light for the Arab world. With her towering blonde hair, glittering camp attire, and a voice that could command any room, she set the gold standard for what it meant to be a true diva.
Her playful persona earned her a string of iconic nicknames—Shahroura (the singing bird), Sabbouha (a diminutive of her stage name), and Al-Ustura (the legend). Yet few know her by her birth name: Jeanette Feghali.
Born on Nov. 10, 1927, in the village of Bdadoun near Mount Lebanon, Sabah’s journey to stardom began at just thirteen. By the 1940s, she had captured regional attention, eventually breaking into Egyptian cinema—the crown jewel of the Arab entertainment industry at the time.
Her debut film, El Qalb Louh Wahid (The Heart Has Its Reasons, 1945), where she first adopted the name “Sabah,” catapulted her to fame and cemented the persona that would endure for decades. According to Raseef 22, She was only 18 years old, when poet Saleh Jawdat reportedly chose to call her “Sabah.”
Other rumors have it that Assia Dagher published a photo of the promising star in As-sabah Al-Masriya magazine, asking its readers to choose a name for her. They later chose the name of the magazine in which she appeared, as they felt it captured the brightness of her face. According to critic Khayriyah Al-Beshlawy, both accounts are likely to be true.
Sabah’s presence was as powerful as her voice, and her refusal to conform to societal norms throughout her six-decade-long career made her a trailblazer in every sense of the word. She embraced controversy, challenged traditions, and redefined femininity with a spirit as boundless as her talent.
Her convictions, and overall persona which reflected in every aspect of her personality were probably so innate to her that she was not aware that she was breaking many taboos, essentially being ahead of her time. She lived life the way she wanted, sometimes known as someone who “scandalized the Arab world” by being unapologetically herself.
Today, Sabah is a household name. Her prolific career spanned nearly 100 films, 25 theatrical productions, four radio musicals, and an astonishing 3,000 songs. Working alongside renowned Egyptian composers, she mastered the mawwal, a form of traditional Lebanese folk music. Her powerful renditions of classics like Zay el-Assal (“Your Love Is Like Honey on My Heart”), Yanna, Yanna, and Akhadou el-Reeh (“They Took the Wind”) evoked deep nostalgia and showcased her unparalleled ability to merge sentimentality with artistry.
Sabah’s influence extended far beyond the Middle East. She graced the stages of world-renowned venues, including Olympia in Paris, Carnegie Hall in New York, London’s Piccadilly Theatre, and the Sydney Opera House. Wherever she performed, she left an indelible mark, captivating audiences with her magnetic presence and commanding voice.
But Sabah was not only a pioneer in music—she was a fashion icon too. Known for her avant-garde blonde hairstyles, bold silhouettes, glitter-drenched ensembles, and unapologetic glamour, she embraced camp long before it became mainstream.
She rejected suffocating ideals of what an Arab woman “should” be, famously declaring in a 1975 interview: “I am a woman, I can be everything,” when an Egyptian reporter asked if she considered herself a housewife. Notably, in 2011, there was an exhibition dedicated to Sabah’s life and costumes at The Beiteddine Festival, in which she attended herself.
Whilst many chose to focus on her numerous marriages, and the men that she chose to spend her life with, Sabah’s legacy goes far beyond her love life, and the endless tabloids that surrounded her, stripping her away of her commitment to individuality and artistry, which is what she was all about.
On Nov. 26, 2014, Sabah passed away at the age of 87, leaving an unmatched legacy. News of her death sent shockwaves through the media, with thousands flooding the streets of Beirut to honor her life. Her songs echoed through the city as fans mourned, remembered, and celebrated the incomparable diva who had given them decades of joy.
Sabah had predicted long before she had passed away that her name would still be on the mouths of many, long after her death, saying “Even in my death people are talking about me. I will call it a celebration not a funeral”. In another interview with Radio Monte Carlo she went on to say that “Death is not scary. I have had enough from this world, let me go and experience something new.”
Images: @lebanesefashionhistory
