In My Bed: Habiba Msika
Words by Rami Soudah
The Middle East and North Africa experienced a phenomenal awakening in the early 20th century, popularly called the Nahda, in primary reference to the Middle East and Egypt waking from five centuries of Ottoman conquest to fight for independence and revolutionize their local cultures that had been dominated by Ottoman rule for 400 years. Needless to say, an era marked by defiance brought with it an army of notable figures who sought to revolutionize and modernize in their own way by resisting social conservatism through open defiance of gender roles and the “tabooization” of sex.
Many Arab artists from this era, mainly theatre actors and singers (given the first Arabic film would not be made until 1927) sang about sex through innuendos and euphemisms and crossdressed for entertainment — a part of our culture that remains ignored and hidden for reasons too many to discuss here. Though the list of artists who thrived in this environment is long, there is one that drew particular attention for being well ahead of her time, known by her stage name, Habiba Msika: a Habiba of the masses, and Msika from the Arabic word for perfume, misk.
Like many figures of the turn of the century, Habiba Msika’s year and place of birth are topics of debate: her birth year ranges from 1898 to 1903, putting her age at the time of her death anywhere from 27 to 32. Likewise, her place of birth is anywhere from the Jewish quarter of Tunis, to the town of Tastur, nearly 76km inland from Tunis. What is known is that Habiba, born Marguerite, was a niece of Tunisian singer Leila Sfez (1874-1944), a major figure in modernizing the Tunisian song who worked to revive Tunisian folk music and eventually ran her own cabaret in Tunis. Sfez discovered and nurtured her niece’s talent and gave her her first singing opportunities. Habiba would eventually adopt her stage name, and amass a fanbase, primarily comprised of young Tunisian men infatuated with her, called Askir El Leil (Soldiers of the Night). Msika’s rise to fame was meteoric thanks to her fans’ obsession with her, and they were able to elevate her to sex symbol status, in line with her countercultural image. Many of her soldiers were also known to financially spoil her, allowing her to live lavish and large, though her successes in acting and singing afforded her a comfortable, independent lifestyle.
During her time in the spotlight, Habiba would record many successful songs, producing a staggering 100 records in her brief career. One of her best-preserved surviving record is her rendition of Sayid Darwish’s popular tunes, namely, Zorouni Kol Sana Marrah. Habiba would also gain great controversy for her song Ala Srir El Nom (In My Bed), a song full of euphemisms and drinking, of a fun and private night in with her lover, and a song called Cham El Cocaine (Snorting Cocaine). Habiba’s proclivities and her sex life were heavily reported on, and contributed to her sex symbol status. Though she starred in many major roles, such as Desdemona in Shakespeare’s Othello, Habiba was known to gravitate towards male roles, allegedly because they had more stage time. In a showing of Romeo and Juliet, in which Habiba took on the titular role of Romeo, she kissed the female actress playing Juliet, a move which caused a great uproar at the event, and Habiba’s Askir had to jump into action to escort her out of the venue safely.
Habiba’s proclivity to stirring controversy would not stop at revolutionizing perceptions of sex and sexuality, but would also include great patriotism and nationalism in the face of French occupation. It was even alleged that Habib Bourguiba, the first president of independent Tunisia, was a member of her Askir. In one incident, Habiba emerged on stage draped in the Tunisian flag and sang for independence, crying “Vive la liberte!” causing French authorities to quickly put an end to that night’s event. Habiba’s alignment with nationalist movements and her views on French occupation were clear, and she was not shy to vocalize them either if anyone was unsure. These nationalist tendencies would get some of her records – which were hugely successful at the peak of her career between 1924 and 1930 – to get banned by French authorities for their nationalist implications.
Her success on stage, through talent and through garnering attention allowed her to join some of the most prestigious theatre troupes in Tunisia, some of which traveled Europe. Habiba performed in France, and was said to have met with the likes of Pablo Picasso and Coco Chanel. Habiba’s life was just as busy in public as it was in private, however, as media constantly reported on her stream of lovers and interests, one of which was 77-year-old Eliyahu Mimouni, a member of her Askir, who spoiled her rotten with a villa of her own and an effective blank cheque, though Habiba was said to have never reciprocate his feelings and even refused to step foot in the villa he got her.
Habiba’s life would come to a shocking and tragic halt on the night of February 20, 1930, when Eliyahu broke into her house with an oil canister, doused her in oil, and burned her in her bed. Habiba awoke, likely in shock and great agony, and reportedly flung herself at Eliyahu, who stood by and watched her burn. Habiba would perish the next day, while Eliyahu would suffer serious injuries as a result. Her funeral was marked as a moment of great unity for Tunisians, who rallied over one of the most vocal activists, who used her charming voice and her reach to preach of independence, and who lived an irreverent life, willing to cross any societal boundary simply because she could. At the height of her career, Habiba was working with Gramophone and Baidaphone, two of the first and largest recording companies in the Middle East and North Africa, and her record sales boomed after her passing, which eventually prompted French authorities to impose the ban on her music.
Though many women in Habiba Msika’s position would not be remembered fondly, especially for her music about sex and drugs, her army of male suitors, and her on-stage kiss with a woman, Habiba is in fact remembered as a pillar of Tunisian music, a phenomenon gone too soon. Though there was great outrage at her actions during her life, her legacy is looked at with fascination at her great boldness, her no-nonsense approach to her personal life and her emotions, and her unbound ambition in pursuit of the arts. Habiba, after all, sought the biggest roles, subdued the two greatest recording companies at the time to her will, and had the entire population of Tunisia entranced by her life and her music. It is a remarkable tragedy when an army’s leader is its first and only casualty.