My ears and artistic memory became attuned to Saleh Al-Kuwaiti’s songs during my early teenage years, and his melodies continue to bring me immense joy.
I have written ten articles about him, compelled by the need to revisit and reflect on his biography and that of his brother, Daoud, as well as their artistic legacy.
Ezra, their father, emigrated with his family and whatever savings he had left at the end of the 19th century to Kuwait, forming the nucleus of the first Jewish community there.
The family excelled in trades that others hesitated to pursue, such as tanning, wine-making, organizing events, and selling fabrics in the alleys.
They were possibly among the first to practice currency exchange -- a point my grandfather once alluded to when defending their reputation. He spoke of their integrity and how they settled all their debts before immigrating to Israel.
The lives of Saleh and Daoud changed forever when an uncle returned from a business trip to India, bringing them an oud and a violin as gifts. This moment became a turning point not only in their lives but also in the history of musical heritage in Kuwait and Iraq.
Saleh studied the oud under Kuwaiti artist Khaled Al-Bakr, and his growing fame soon outgrew Kuwait’s borders. Seeking broader horizons, Saleh and his brother moved to Iraq to further their artistic careers and record their music.
The Ezra family returned to Iraq, carrying the surname “Al-Kuwaiti,” which their descendants in Israel and abroad still bear with pride.
Saleh’s fame grew as he mastered the ancient Iraqi maqam under the guidance of the artist Azzour . He became renowned for composing and playing the violin, creating iconic melodies for "Salima Murad," often referred to as the Umm Kulthum of her time.
Shlomo Ben Saleh recounts how he, his father, and uncle continued to cherish Arabic as their primary language even after immigrating to Israel. Saleh passed away in 1986 at the age of 78, with his brother Daoud preceding him. Shlomo dreams of visiting Kuwait, a country etched in his heart and identity.
Though geographical borders, political enmities, and religious divides may separate us from those we admire, art remains a universal language unbound by such limitations.
Saleh once said in a radio interview: “I was born and raised in Kuwait, where my father worked. Since childhood, I’ve been drawn to music and deeply moved by it, just as I am by Arabic poetry. At the age of ten, I attended school, where I learned a little English, Arabic, and religion.
“Later, I wanted to study music. There was an oud player, Khaled Al-Bakr, from whom I learned.
“Eventually, I shifted to the violin and became skilled at performing Kuwaiti and Al-Jazeera songs. My brother Daoud and I also learned maqamat and songs from Egyptian and Iraqi singers through records we brought from Iraq.
“My first song was ‘Wallah Ajabi Jamalak,’ followed by ‘Ya Badi’ Al-Jamal.’ I sang the latter at a gathering of sheikhs, and their encouragement fueled my passion.
“Daoud and I performed at events hosted by merchants and sheikhs such as Ahmed Al-Jaber and Abdullah Al-Mubarak. Kuwait remains the best country I have ever known -- where safety and equality thrived, where one could sleep with their door wide open.
“As our fame grew, the need to record our music arose, but when recording companies stopped visiting Kuwait, we had to move elsewhere.”
On the centenary of Saleh Al-Kuwaiti’s birth, a grand celebration was held at London’s Albert Hall. In Tel Aviv, a street was named in honor of the Al-Kuwaiti brothers.
Shlomo Saleh Al-Kuwaiti reflects on how his father pioneered modern music in Iraq. However, the transition to Israel was marred by disappointment, as their music -- seen as the "enemy’s music" -- was rejected.
Despite this, the brothers always identified as Kuwaitis, both by birth and by heart. It is our hope that Kuwait continues to honor their legacy by broadcasting their timeless songs and keeping their memory alive.
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