Ahmad Zahir, widely regarded as Afghanistan’s greatest singer, remains a beloved voice decades after his death. Often called the ‘Elvis of Afghanistan’ for his sideburns and stage presence, he blended Afghan melodies and instruments with Western pop, rock and jazz and with Indian and Iranian influences, and set classical and modern Persian poetry to new sounds.
A Kabul childhood
Ahmad Toryalai Zahir was born in Kabul on 14 June 1946 into a family from Laghman province. His father, Dr Abdul Zahir, was a physician at the royal court and later served as prime minister in 1971–72. At Habibia High School the young Ahmad played accordion and sang in the school’s amateur band.
After graduating from Kabul’s teachers’ college and spending time in India training as a teacher of English, he worked as a journalist for the Kabul Times, while performing at private parties and national celebrations. Live broadcasts on Radio Afghanistan, and soon television, made him a national star.
A new Afghan sound
Zahir led his band from the harmonium, with electric guitars and trumpets alongside the Afghan rubab and tabla. He worked with leading Kabul composers such as Nainawaz and Shah Wali Taranasaz and recorded more than twenty albums; his first official album, Dilak am, appeared in 1973. Before that he had made privately commissioned recordings from the mid-1960s, which passed from hand to hand in Kabul on cassette, and afterwards he re-recorded much of his catalogue at the Radio Kabul studios. He also gave concerts in Kabul and Herat.
Most of his songs are in Dari, with many in Pashto and a few in other languages. He drew lyrics from Rumi and Hafez as well as from modern poets such as the Iranian Forugh Farrokhzad, and gave Afghan arrangements to Western songs, including Elvis Presley’s ‘It’s Now or Never’. Well-known songs include ‘Tura Afsoon’ and ‘Ajab Sabri Khoda Darad’. His songs of love and longing reached listeners of every background.
Death and legacy
Ahmad Zahir died on 14 June 1979, his 33rd birthday, near the Salang Pass north of Kabul. The official account gave a car accident as the cause, but his family and many admirers have long disputed it, and the circumstances remain unclear.
Afghan music channels still play his songs every day, Western labels have reissued his recordings, and the US broadcaster NPR has counted him among the great voices of the 20th century. Each year on 14 June, fans gather at his rebuilt tomb in Kabul’s Shohada-e Salehin cemetery to lay flowers and remember him.
