We don't know, and it's OK

Believe it or not, it has been over a month, but I’m still riding the high from the recent student recital experience I had the privilege of sharing with the audience and my fellow dancers. Raqs Shamadan—oh, how I love thee now, though it wasn’t love at first sight.

Like many of us, I once believed the candelabrum belonged solely to wedding celebrations, particularly the Zaffat. The Zaffa is an Egyptian wedding procession, and the most familiar to us is Zaffa al-Arous — the bridal procession that carries the bride from her childhood home to the new home she will share with her husband.

Since it's safe to say that most of us here in the West will likely never have the chance to witness—let alone participate in—an Egyptian wedding, I had always regarded the shamadan as a challenging, quirky prop with no real place in the average hobby dancer’s toolkit. What fun rabbit holes one can fall into while trying to learn more!

As always, I started with my go-to book: 

“The candelabrum dance/ Raqs al Shemadan is a perfect example, starting with a professional performer wanted to do something different in the wedding zeffa (procession) for which she was hired, so she danced with a large, lit klop (an oil lamp) on her head. As a result, she became known as Zouba el Kloptiyya: “Zouba, the lantern lady”. Then Shafika el Koptiyya (Shafika, the Copt) decided to dance with a lit candelabra on her head. The audience liked those dances, so other performers did them and it became something expected in a bridal zeffa - traditional.” (Dinicu, C. Varga. You Asked Aunt Rocky: Answers & Advice About Raqs Sharqi & Raqs Shaabi. RDI Publications, 2011.)

There’s a lot to unpack in this citation from Morocco’s wonderful—though not always evidence-based—book. Let’s take it one assertion at a time:

• Prior to this instance, the zaffat did not include dancers balancing lit up props  

• The act in question was so significant and well-attested that it gave the dancer her name

• Only later did another dancer expand on the idea of live fire on the head, and thus the tradition of shamadan-lit wedding processions was born.

At first glance, none of the assertions I listed seem impossible. However, when the principle of Occam’s razor is applied, the chain of events appears less probable. It also becomes more mundane—and perhaps takes away some of the magic we tend to associate with the early days of raqs sharqi.

At the age of 13, Zouba al-Klobatiyya was married off to a man whose job was to light gas-powered street lamps at night — a common practice before widespread electrification. The lamps were globe- or 'klob'-shaped, and unsurprisingly, the profession of lighting them at dusk was called klobati. Taking a stage name is neither new nor unusual — artists do it all the time. So, assuming that Zouba’s early marriage contributed to her nickname isn’t far-fetched. She did go on to marry several more times, but we know and love her as Zouba, the Lantern Lady. 

In this 2017 article, Youssef El Sherif’s 1960 interview with Zouba al-Klobatiyya is cited from his book What Happened in the Land of Egypt. In the interview, Zouba explicitly states that she did not invent the shamadan dance. Rather, she observed a man—remarkably, a male performer—dancing with a candelabrum at one of the prominent dance halls of the period and chose to emulate him. Given the later popularity of the shamadan tradition, it is reasonable to assume that, had she been its true originator, Zouba would have claimed credit during an interview with a respected journalist. Notably, she demonstrates no reluctance in highlighting her widespread acclaim during the peak years of her career.

Let us assume, for the sake of argument, that the oil lamp performance occurred as described by Morocco. Could it have inspired Shafiqa al-Qibtiyya to “elevate” the idea by incorporating it into her own wedding procession performances? Not without a time machine! 

Historical records place the peak of Shafiqa’s career between approximately 1890 and 1910. While future digitization of archives and other primary sources may reveal further insights into the life of Shafiqa The Copt, one fact remains clear: Zouba could not have been the source of her inspiration. Zouba’s most active years—roughly 1930 to 1950—came at least a decade after the presumed death of Shafiqa, who is believed to have passed away sometime in the 1920s.

As for the shamadan’s role in Egyptian wedding zaffat, we simply lack a reliable source that definitively identifies the time and place of the first candelabrum-lit procession. The absence of documentation presents a challenge, particularly within a Western epistemological framework that often favours certainty and linear historical narratives. Nonetheless, it is important to acknowledge the limitations of the available evidence. It may not be easy, but we must accept that, when it comes to the earliest instance of a shamadan being incorporated into a wedding celebration, all we can say with relative confidence is that the practice gained popularity around the turn of the 19th to the 20th century.

The same considerations apply to Raqs Shamadan as a distinct dance style. Its rise in popularity coincided with the peak of Shafiqa Al-Qibtiyya’s prominence as an almeh in Cairo. Could she have been the first professional entertainer to introduce this particular dance to the world? Yes. Is it highly highly likely? Nah. To date, no primary sources have emerged that definitively attribute the candelabrum dance to Shafiqa as its originator. 

Furthermore, we know that balancing acts, including the balancing of lit candles, were already part of the broader pre-raqs sharqi tradition long before Raqs Shamadan became a specific dance style. You can refer to my previous post on the matter: photos from 1900 Exposition Universelle in Paris are as primary a source as one can get. 

What conclusions can we draw from all the facts and propositions I’ve presented?

We don’t know who invented Raqset al-Shamadan, and that’s OK, because at the end of the day, does it really matter? 

In my completely unbiased and totally objective opinion, what truly matters is that every dancer should get the chance to strut their stuff with a glorious candelabrum on their head! Floorwork and finger cymbals? Well, those are negotiable.

Are you candelabrum-curious? Get in touch and let me know! 

askauntiehelen@gmail.com