It's midnight, and I'm sipping my customary pre-bedtime coffee, accompanied by the music of Julia Boutros. Tonight, I eschew her wartime ballads in favor of love songs—the kind of tunes that remind me of everyday life rather than the haunting echoes of rockets or midnight-breaking news.
As I listen, a thought strikes me: when was the last time I heard Julia’s voice? I struggle to remember, recalling only those drives to the south of Lebanon, when her music would fill the car.
Though I'm not from the south, it has always felt like it belonged to every Lebanese, a place that somehow finds its way to us no matter how far we wander. Julia’s voice, too, has carried the essence of the south throughout Lebanon, reaching the likes of Baalbek after the July War, when her performances offered a glimpse of life amid the shadows of death.
But Julia has been absent. In the past three years, she has released only five videos. Each is like a gentle touch, a reminder of her powerful past performances from 2006, a time of drums and chants that stirred a sense of strength within us. We share the videos, living in their echo for a fleeting 24 hours, before returning to the same grief and familiar question: where is Julia?
We hoped for her return post-2024 war, yet she remained silent, offering only archival footage. Her absence felt like a void. Where was the voice we relied on in times of conflict and peace? The voice that could stand firm against the backdrop of missiles?
The war returned, accompanied by its horrors—missiles, explosions, death, and dislocation. We were later informed it had ended. But how could it truly end while parts of the south remain under occupation?
And how does it end when southerners are still in Beirut? Although Beirut is also their home, their return is dearly missed. I long to return to the south as well, to meet on the road and sing, to roll down the car window and hear: “I breathe freedom, don’t cut off my air.”
But that hasn’t happened. The south hasn't returned, Julia hasn't returned, and the war... I question if it ever genuinely concluded.
I don’t know which path my country will take, nor how long we must wait for normalcy to return. However, one truth remains: “All have sold you out with words, O South.”
And I find myself, at midnight, seeking Julia Boutros’s voice, longing for that old feeling—the assurance that the war has truly ended. Thus, perhaps my anticipation isn't for Julia as an artist, but as a sign, a voice I need to hear to believe.
So, when will Julia return? When will the south come back? And when will I hear her voice again and know that the war... has really ended?