Spreading some salaam Spreading some salaam (May 16, 2003)

Jihad or no jihad, MV Muslim brothers' hip hop has a following

By Candice Shih

Prior to 9/11, the word jihad didn't mean too much to the average American. But since then, it has taken on a whole new meaning, and Amaar and Siege Zaheer, two Muslim rapping brothers, don't have a name for their act anymore.

Growing up Muslim in a Pakistani-American family, the Zaheers were mostly exposed to classical Middle Eastern music. But they found that hip-hop music spoke best to them.

"We always related a lot to it. ... We never felt we fit in anywhere because we moved around so much," said Amaar. Born in Pullman, Wash., the Zaheer family moved to northern California and hopped from town to town. Both eventually attended Mountain View High School and then graduated from Los Altos High School, Amaar in 1996 and Siege in 1997.

As kids in the early '90s, they started experimenting with producing and rapping, but didn't get serious about it until meeting manager Billy Vidal in a San Francisco club in 1998.

They produced a full-length record and a "radio-friendly" EP under the name Jihad, which means "struggle." Although they called themselves Jihad before 9/11, afterwards it was politically useful because it gave the Zaheers an opportunity to explain what it means to them.

But a few months ago, the stigma of the name became too much. "Extremists hijacked the religion," said Siege. If the name was going to keep them from reaching more people, it wasn't worth it, he added. They now go by "Amaar and Siege" but welcome suggestions for a new name for their act.

Amaar and Siege, who are a financial analyst and a trust accountant by trade, consider themselves to be conscious rappers, as opposed to artists who glorify violence, drugs and sex. In fact, in the spoken word piece "Jihad," featured performer tyson says: "My brothers please keep our eyes / Low off that sister's thigh / She was not created for us to objectify."

And in "One World," they say "Different shades of skin / and names for men / but what's within is one heart / Let's begin to heal scars."

It's their responsibility as Muslims to correct injustices, they said. However, their songs are not all about loving one another. In "Cherish the Day," Amaar said he's speaking to God when he raps "But I know when they attack / It's you who protects me / While other bodies laid in ditches / I walked away in stitches."

Indeed, Amaar sports a scar on the right side of his forehead from a bullet wound. Somehow the bullet missed his brain, and he thanks God (he and Siege insist they weren't in gangs, but were shot at more than once for "getting caught in the middle").

It's their unique background, which also comes through in the Middle Eastern-influenced melodies, and street credibility that seems to gain them followers. How many other artists who have had a song played on WILD 94.9 also perform at car shows and Indian cultural festivals?

At their shows in the Bay Area, Minneapolis, and Washington, D.C., they've noticed a variety of fans, from Middle Eastern kids with no previous interest in hip hop to middle-aged Caucasian men.

Because ethnic Pakistanis rapping seems so unusual, the Zaheers say they are often mistaken for Puerto Ricans. But apparently they're not so misunderstood -- they do a brisk sale of CDs at their shows and Tower Records in Mountain View.

But for all their hard work in promoting their music, they remain rather private. Their parents didn't know about it until a few years ago and still don't quite understand hip-hop.

Added Siege, "I don't think people in my office know I rap."

E-mail Candice Shih at cshih@mv-voice.com