Tag Archives: conscious hip-hop

From rapper to political leader: 4 songs by Balen, Nepal’s future prime minister

Nepali rapper and Kathmandu mayor Balendra Shah performing
Snapshot from the music video for “Balidan” by Balen.

When people think of protest music entering politics, the examples that usually come to mind are folk singers addressing different issues in their lyrics and sometimes even performing on the streets – surrounded by people demanding justice. One former hip-hop artist in Nepal did exactly that – only he took it a few steps further.

Balendra Shah, or Balen, is a musician who first rose to fame as a socially active rapper in the emerging Nep-hop scene (Nepalese hip-hop). His songs dealt with issues such as corruption and inequality and lifted up the voice of a generation of disenchanted young people in Nepal.

Nep-hop, Nepalโ€™s growing hip-hop scene, emerged in the early 2000s and has increasingly become a platform for social commentary and political criticism among young artists.

Shahโ€™s rise in politics began when he won a surprise victory as Mayor of Kathmandu in 2022, running as an independent candidate and defeating politicians from Nepalโ€™s established parties. The win highlighted a major shift in the countryโ€™s political landscape, driven largely by younger voters seeking change.

Now, after his extraordinary journey from socially conscious artist to political reformer, Shah is expected to become Nepalโ€™s next prime minister. His wild trip from underground rap battles to the top of national politics highlights just how powerful a vehicle for political change music can be.

Whether governing proves as powerful as his music remains to be seen. But if he does take office, Nepal may soon be led by a prime minister whose political vision was first delivered through music.

Here are four songs from the time Balen used a mic and a beat to effect change.

1. โ€œBalidanโ€ (Sacrifice)

One of Shahโ€™s most famous songs, Balidan is an uncompromising attack on corruption in Nepalese politics. The track calls out leaders who, in Shahโ€™s words, have betrayed the people they claim to represent.

The song resonated widely among young listeners who felt locked out of opportunity by a political system dominated by old elites. It quickly became an anthem for frustration with corruption and mismanagement.

2. โ€œMa Nepal Haseko Dekhna Chahanchuโ€ (I Want to See Nepal Smiling)

While sharply critical of political leaders, this song carries a hopeful message. Shah imagines a Nepal where citizens live with dignity and opportunity rather than political instability and corruption.

The trackโ€™s vision of a better future made it particularly popular among youth activists and students calling for reform.

3. โ€œSadak Balakโ€ (Street Child)

In Sadak Balak, Shah turns his attention to social inequality. The song tells the story of children forced to survive on the streets, shining a light on poverty and social neglect in Nepalโ€™s cities.

The track showed that Shahโ€™s political consciousness extended beyond party politics to broader questions of justice and human dignity.

4. โ€œNepal Hasekoโ€ (Nepal Smiling)

Another widely shared track, Nepal Haseko continues Shahโ€™s theme of imagining a happier and more just country. Its hopeful tone contrasts with the harsh political criticism found elsewhere in his catalogue, but the underlying message remains clear: Nepal deserves better leadership.

The song has often been used at youth rallies and reformist gatherings, reinforcing Shahโ€™s connection with a younger generation of voters.

Tunisiaโ€™s rap revolution: 5 women who are redefiningย hip-hop

A female rapper performing outdoors at night, wearing a purple top and camouflage pants, with urban scenery in the background.
Snapshot from Medusa’s music video for the song ‘Harissa‘.

Jyhene Kebsi, Macquarie University

Women rappers were not really a feature of Tunisiaโ€™s typically masculine and chauvinist hip-hop scene until the revolution that overthrew Zine al-Abidine Ben Ali in 2011.

Now there are several politically conscious female voices rising in the rap scene. Gender studies scholar Jyhene Kebsi has published a research paper on how their lyrics highlight the multiple inequalities that women in Tunisia โ€“ and the world โ€“ must overcome.


How have male Tunisian rappers generally treated women in their songs and videos?

The gender politics of Tunisian menโ€™s rap is complex, but we can talk about one of its tendencies. Although there are men whoโ€™ve supported their female colleagues and collaborated with them on songs, their portrayals tend to lump women into one of two groups: virtuous or promiscuous; madonnas or whores.

This is clear in their use of obscene words that aim to degrade the โ€œfallenโ€ women they rap about. Their sexual references can be seen as a way to debase the โ€œeasy girls and immoral womenโ€ who challenge patriarchal norms.

This is in sharp contrast to the love and indebtedness they express towards their mothers and sisters. In contrast to western rap, the mother figure is central in Tunisian rap.

The sacredness of the mother in Tunisian Muslim culture is seen in songs full of gratitude towards those who brought them into the world.

Their reliance on this male-centred division between โ€œrespectableโ€ and โ€œunrespectableโ€ women spreads a toxic masculinity that supports harmful gender stereotypes.

This strengthens menโ€™s social dominance and their policing of womenโ€™s bodies. Having said that, it is very important to highlight that sexism is not limited to the Arab rap scene. As I explain in my paper, many western male rappers objectify, humiliate and degrade women in their songs too.

Who are the four female rappers you discuss?

The four Tunisian women rappers I analyse are Sabrina, Medusa, Queen Nesrine and Tuny Girl.

Thereโ€™s a common perception that Medusa was Tunisiaโ€™s first female rapper. In reality, Sabrina began performing rap in 2007 and Tunisiaโ€™s other female artists joined the rap scene after the 2011 revolution.

Medusa is Tunisiaโ€™s most famous female rapper in the west โ€“ her migration to France boosted her international profile. Although Tuny Girl and Queen Nesrine have not gained the fame of Medusa or Sabrina, theyโ€™ve released powerful feminist songs that criticise the status quo in post-revolutionary Tunisia.

These artists have mainly relied on digital media to share their songs with the public through social platforms like YouTube and Facebook. Unfortunately, all four of them have faced opposition because theyโ€™re women.

Rap is considered a masculine musical genre. Tunisian womenโ€™s initial entry into this male-dominated world was not easily accepted. Attitudes towards female rappers have evolved thanks to womenโ€™s gradual success in attracting a larger fan base.

But these four artists share a strong resistance to sexism. Most importantly, while being aware of patriarchal pressures, theyโ€™re conscious of the many different forms of oppression that intersect to keep women less equal than men.

This is evident in their songs, which reflect a strong awareness of intersectionality.

What is intersesectionality?

The black US feminist Kimberle Crenshaw coined the term โ€œintersectionalityโ€ in 1989 to describe the double discrimination of sexism and racism faced by black women. So, she used the term to discuss the multiple forms of inequality that compound themselves and create interlocking obstacles that shape black womenโ€™s experiences of discrimination.

Intersectionality highlights the experiences of multiple forms of discrimination when these categories of social identity interact with and shape one another.

We see an understanding of intersectionality in a song like Hold On, where Medusa raps about illiteracy, political struggle and motherhood:

I am watching the floating misery / Illiteracy has spread and made us go from one extreme to the other / Where is the freedom for which activists struggled? / I am the free Tunisian who exposed their chest to bullets / I am the mother, the mother of the martyr who has not gotten his revenge.

Or, in her song Arahdli, Sabrina raps about a range of social ills:

Leave me alone / The police catch you and harm you / Donโ€™t believe the corrupt state / Unemployment and poverty will not make you happy.

I found that what Medusa, Sabrina, Queen Nesrine and Tuny Girl have in common is their rejection of, as Crenshaw puts it, the โ€œsingle-axis frameworkโ€. The one-sided narrative that reduces womenโ€™s problems solely to men and patriarchy.

Instead, these artists highlight the damaging impact โ€“ for women โ€“ of the intersection of gender inequality, political corruption, unjust laws, ineffective local policies, the collapse of Tunisiaโ€™s economy and the countryโ€™s weak position in the global geopolitical landscape.

Their songs are united in their recognition that Tunisian womenโ€™s lives are shaped by all these overlapping power structures, exposing them to marginalisation and discrimination.

So, their songs identify hidden, interrelated structural barriers to their freedom. Misogyny is just one element that needs to be considered alongside other local and global issues when we discuss gender politics in Tunisia.

What other new trends are female rappers ushering in?

Women are at the forefront of innovation in Tunisian rap. Take Lully Snake. Sheโ€™s a Tunisian-Algerian rapper based in Tunisia. This 24-year-old artist was previously a breakdancer. Her passion for hip-hop culture and her love for US artists like Tupac, Kool G Rap, Queen Latifah and Foxy Brown led her to start rapping.

Like all Tunisian women rappers, she considers her entry into rap to have been a long and difficult journey. Starting in 2019, her first song was only released in 2024.

Lully Snake first uploaded her debut song Zabatna Kida on Instagram. Its uniqueness lies in its combination of rap and mahraganat, an Egyptian street music that emerged in Cairoโ€™s ghettos. Its success encouraged her to carry on rapping in both Tunisian and Egyptian, alongside other western languages and Maghrebi dialects.

Lully Snakeโ€™s experimentation proves that female rappers are innovating while spreading messages that empower women. This has ultimately enriched Tunisian rap.

Jyhene Kebsi, Director of Learning & Teaching (Gender Studies), Macquarie University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Kneecapโ€™s stance on Gaza extends a long history of the Irish supporting other oppressedย peoples

Ciara Smart, University of Tasmania

Love them or hate them, thereโ€™s no doubt Irish hip-hop trio Kneecap are having a moment.

Their music โ€“ delivered in a powerful fusion of English and Irish โ€“ is known for its gritty lyrics about party drugs and working-class life in post-Troubles Ireland. More recently, the group has made headlines for its outspoken support for the Palestinian people.

British police have charged member Liam ร“g ร“ hAnnaidh (known by his stage name Mo Chara) with a terrorism offence. ร“ hAnnaidh was charged in May, after being accused of displaying a Hezbollah flag at a London concert in November.

But this isnโ€™t the first time an Irish republican group has courted controversy for backing other oppressed peoples. This has been happening for almost two centuries.

Unsanitised and vocal support

Ireland is composed of 32 counties. Twenty-six are in the Republic of Ireland, while six are part of the United Kingdom in Northern Ireland. When the British government withdrew from most of Ireland in 1921, the Irish Free State was largely Catholic, while Northern Ireland was more heavily Protestant. But these divisions are becoming increasingly irrelevant.

While Ireland is still split across two nations, public support for Irish unity remains strong, particularly among citizens of the Republic.

Kneecapโ€™s members are from Belfast, the capital of Northern Ireland. They are also fierce republicans, which means they want to see Ireland united as one nation. One of their most popular songs, Get Your Brits Out, calls for the British stateโ€™s withdrawal from Northern Ireland.

The group has experienced a meteoric rise in recent years, helped by a semi-autobiographical film released last year.

They have reclaimed the term โ€œFenianโ€, often used as an anti-Irish slur. Their decision to rap in Irish is also a cultural milestone, as the language was suppressed in Northern Ireland for most of the 20th century, only achieving official language status in 2022.

Despite being undeniable provocateurs, they claim they arenโ€™t interested in reigniting Catholic-Protestant conflict. They celebrate the similarities between both groups, rather than highlight their differences.

ร“ hAnnaidhโ€™s alleged terrorism offence came after he waved a Hezbollah flag at a London gig and chanted โ€œUp Hamas, up Hezbollahโ€. Both Hamas and Hezbollah are considered terrorist groups in Britain. He will face court on August 20.

Irish-Mฤori solidarity

Kneecap is carrying on a long tradition of Irish groups who faced controversy for denouncing the oppressive acts of powerful states.

In the 19th century, several Irish nationalist groups expressed solidarity with other colonised peoples, especially Mฤori in Aotearoa New Zealand. Groups such as the Irish Republican Brotherhood (whose members were called Fenians) arguably saw Mฤori and Irish as co-victims of a tyrannical state.

Irish nationalist newspapers often wrote sympathetically about the colonisation of New Zealand, and tried to inspire Ireland to resist British subjugation, like Mฤori seemed to be doing.

A historical depiction of a violent skirmish in a dense forest, showing soldiers in conflict with Mฤori warriors. The scene captures intense action, with soldiers producing weapons and Mฤori fighters in a defensive stance amidst foliage.
This painting by Kennett Watkins, The Death of Von Tempsky at Te Ngutu o Te Manu (circa 1893), portrays conflict in 1868 between armed constabulary and Mฤori forces. Wikimedia

In July 1864, the Fenian newspaper The Irish People stressed British hypocrisy. It wrote, โ€œsavages we call [Mฤori], using the arrogant language of civilisation, but, honestly, they deserve to be characterised by a much better wordโ€.

It also scoffed at the โ€œunconquerable propensity of the Anglo-Saxon to plunder the lands of other people โ€“ a propensity which manifests itself most strikingly alike in Ireland and New Zealandโ€.

Similarly, in December 1868, the nationalist newspaper The Nation contrasted โ€œvaliantโ€ Mฤori with โ€œterrifiedโ€ British. It sarcastically described Mฤori as โ€œrebels (men fighting for their own rights on their own soil)โ€ and mocked the British forces as โ€œvaliant men who could bully a priestโ€.

The article finished on a sombre note: โ€œMere valour will in the end go down before the force of numbers and the cunning of diplomacyโ€.

Rumours of a secret rebellion

Other Irish leaders, such as the nationalist Michael Davitt, saw inspirational parallels between the nonviolent campaign of Charles Stewart Parnell, the 19th century leader of the Irish Home Rule movement, and Mฤori leader Te Whiti-o-Rongomai.

In Ireland, Parnell encouraged poor tenant farmers to pause rent payments to their British landlords. In New Zealand, Te Whiti encouraged Mฤori to dismantle colonially-constructed fences and plough the land for themselves. Both were arrested in 1881 within three weeks of each other.

A historical poster advocating for tenant farmers to refuse rent payments during the Land War in Ireland, emphasizing solidarity and resistance against landlords.
The โ€˜No Rent Manifestoโ€™ was issued on 18 October 1881, by Parnell and others of the Irish National Land League while in Kilmainham Jail. National Library of Ireland

So strong was the sense of kinship between Irish and Mฤori that, in the 1860s, there were persistent rumours of a joint Irish-Mฤori rebellion reported in the media and even New Zealandโ€™s parliament.

In March, 1869, the conservative New Zealand newspaper Daily Southern Cross reported a large number of Mฤori โ€œhave decided on joining the Fenian Brotherhood, and have adopted the green flag as their national emblemโ€.

Later that year, the paper reported the supposed Fenians told a Mฤori resistance group that, โ€œlike the Maori, they hate the British rule, and are prepared to make common cause [โ€ฆ] to overthrow that rule in New Zealandโ€.

However, these rumours were probably no more than a conspiracy fuelled by racist anti-Irish paranoia.

Actions and outcomes

Any tangible results of cross-cultural sympathy from 19th century Irish nationalists were mixed, at best. My ongoing research shows solidarity with Mฤori was partly motivated by humanitarian motives, but was also often used to make a point about Ireland.

Identifying with another oppressed peoples within the context of a corrupt empire was a powerful way to argue for improved political recognition within Ireland. Irish nationalists generally didnโ€™t do much other than declare their sympathy.

Kneecap, on the other hand, seems willing to bear the legal and financial consequences of being vocal about human rights abuses in Gaza. Some of their shows have been cancelled, and funding providers have withdrawn.

While curated rebellion can be lucrative in show-business, Kneecap says the controversy following them is a distraction. They insist the world should focus squarely on Gaza instead.

Ciara Smart, PhD Graduand in History, University of Tasmania

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Logo of Shouts Music Blog in circular format with distressed typography.