Breadcrumb
In medieval Muslim-ruled Iberia, during the golden age of Al Andalus, a certain chamber music was born. It evolved and echoed for centuries in the royal palaces, noble courts and culture of Córdoba, Seville and Granada.
This music was forged over time and, quite literally, through movement: musicians, poets and theorists arrived from across the Muslim world and the wider Mediterranean, bringing to the royal courts their repertoires, instruments and ideas, which were refined locally into something unmistakably Andalusi.
One emblematic figure was Ziryab, who travelled from Baghdad (in present-day Iraq) to Córdoba in the 9th century, helping shape courtly taste and performance culture.
Over the centuries (between the 9th and 15th), this music developed into a classical tradition, structured and disciplined, poetic and meant to unfold slowly, like a suite rather than a song, corresponding with a specific hour of the day or night, with language at its centre.
And despite the "Arabo-Andalusi" label, the tradition was never narrowly "Arabic"-sounding.
Yes, the words are mostly Arabic, a form of muwashshaḥāt (strophic poems composed for singing) and zajal (vernacular, conversational lyric poetry), but the music's DNA remains Andalusi: a blend of Arab, Berber and Iberian influences.
Today, Andalusi music is recognised as classical music across the Maghreb: Algeria, Morocco, Tunisia and Libya and Andalusia itself.
Under the Caliphate of Córdoba, al-Andalus experienced a surge in cultural, scientific, and economic prosperity.
During this time, Islamic civilisation was significantly more advanced than the surrounding European societies.
But this golden age weakened with the collapse of Córdoba in 1031, shattering the once unified state into fragmented, factional kingdoms ravaged by war.
Taking advantage of this division, northern Christian kingdoms (Castile, León, Aragon, Portugal) began rapid territorial expansion, initiating the Reconquista, a centuries-long campaign to retake Iberian territories under Muslim rule, a process of pressure, violence, and displacement that gradually dismantled al-Andalus.
Major cities like Toledo and Seville fell during this time, culminating in 1492 with the fall of Granada, the last Muslim stronghold in Iberia.
Musicians, families, and learned circles fled mostly to the southern shores of the Mediterranean, finding new names, new local flavours and new homes.
Exiled Andalusians and Moriscos (converted Spanish Muslims) settled across the Maghreb, their music in tow. This influx profoundly influenced the cultural landscape of the Maghreb, particularly Algeria, Tunisia and Morocco.
The Andalusians' musical repertoire didn't survive in one single form; it re-rooted, diversified, and became local. In the Maghreb, generations, including mine, grew up with its sound informing the musical context of family life, education, public culture and celebrations.
At the heart of this repertoire is the nūba: a long-form suite organised around a mode, unfolding through rhythmic sections which gather momentum as they go. The voice carries the poetry, the ensemble holds the frame, and instruments like the oud, the kwaitar, the mandole, the violin, and the bendir shape the pulse.
While all three Maghreb nations (Algeria, Morocco, and Tunisia) inherited this musical tradition, Algeria's particular approach to preserving multiple, distinct styles has made it highly regarded in studies of this genre.
It is often described as one of the clearest maps of the tradition because it boasts three distinct regional schools that reflect different Andalusian influences.
Sanâa school is anchored in Algiers and its surroundings. It is traditionally linked to Córdoba as a key Andalusi reference point.
Malouf school is rooted in Constantine, often associated with its lineage, and part of a wider eastern Maghrebi continuum shared eastward with Tunisia and Libya.
Gharnati school is centred in Tlemcen, bearing its Andalusi reference in its name, Gharnata (Granada), and extending westward across borders into eastern Morocco, where related Gharnati practice is also found.
To this day, this musical tradition is sustained by an expansive ecosystem of musical associations, ensembles, and master-apprentice lineages, and it remains largely oral in its transmission.
Vocal delivery remains foundational to performance; texts can be compiled and printed, but the real knowledge, ornamentation, phrasing, tempo, logic, ensemble etiquette, and vocal placement are learned through proximity, rehearsal, and years of listening. (This "patrimony" dynamic, and the social work of authenticity, lineage and transmission, is analysed in The Lost Paradise: Andalusi Music in Urban North Africa.)
This polyphonic tradition continues to survive because it is maintained, not just performed, through teaching, rehearsal, documentation, and the slow discipline of transmission by rigorous and respected custodians.
Among them is Lila Borsali, internationally celebrated for bridging Europe and North Africa and for her commitment to the classical Algerian repertoire on international stages.
Lila was preceded by masters such as Abdelkrim Dali, Fadila Dziria, Larbi BenSari, Sid-Ahmed Serri, Mohamed-Tahar Fergani and Beihdja Rahal, who played crucial roles in carrying the repertoire forward, recording, teaching and keeping the Arabo-Andalusian nūba tradition audible and learnable across generations.
In North Africa, Arabo-Andalusi classical music has the same cultural significance as classical music in Europe, highly revered and sanctified.
And this February, London will have its first taste at the Royal Academy of Music when Lila Borsali performs with her orchestra in A Night in Andalusia with Ya Ghorbati on 14 February.
We sit down with Lila Borsali to explore the history, nuance, and enduring legacy of this centuries-old musical tradition.
The New Arab: For someone hearing Arabo-Andalusi music for the first time, what are they listening to?
Lila Borsali: It is an opportunity to enjoy a sophisticated musical tradition dating back to medieval Andalusia.
This music was developed at the crossroads of several civilisations and survived the centuries, being passed down and transformed while retaining a remarkable aesthetic continuity.
Listen to the depth of its poetic texts, the richness of its melodic lines and the sophistication of its rhythmic structures.
What is a nūba in simple terms, and how should the audience follow it?
The nūba is not an isolated piece, but an organised ensemble, governed by precise rules of form, rhythm and modality.
It is a long, structured musical suite consisting of sung poetry set to music in a unique mode.
This suite unfolds through a progression of rhythmic cycles, from the slowest and most solemn to the fastest and most dynamic, forming a musical journey.
On 14 February, however, I will not be presenting a nūba in its classical and complete form.
Instead, the concert will revolve around a theme: exile. It will bring together pieces from the nūba, as well as forms derived from it, such as the ḥawzī, and more contemporary songs.
The aim is to highlight musical and aesthetic continuity: to show how this Arab-Andalusian heritage is being extended, transformed, and kept alive while remaining faithful to its foundations.
People often try to box this music as either "Spanish" or "Arabic." How do you describe its identity without shrinking it?
The music that we now refer to as Arab-Andalusian cannot be understood through a single cultural or geographical affiliation.
As practised in Algeria, it is the result of a long process of blending: born in medieval Andalusia, it then sprouted and transformed in its new Maghreb environment, specifically in Algeria.
Although the poetry is mainly in Arabic, the identity of this music is not limited to a strictly Andalusian origin or Arabic definition.
It is the product of successive circulations, adaptations and reappropriations, which have shaped its forms, aesthetics and practices. It is precisely this plurality of influences, embraced and integrated over time, that constitutes its richness and uniqueness.
When you perform internationally, what misconception do you most often meet, and what would you like audiences to understand before the first note?
Most often, Andalusian music is elitist, even difficult to access. This perception sometimes stems from its formal complexity, which can be intimidating at first glance.
What I would like the audience to understand is that this music is above all an expression of experience and emotion.
It speaks of love, exile, relationships, openness and deeply human and universal values. Far beyond its scholarly framework, it is timeless. You just need to listen to it with an open mind and heart to grasp its power and resonance.
If the audience remembers one thing about Arabo-Andalusi music after your London concert, what should it be?
The one takeaway should be the deep Algerian identity that inhabits this music. A musical tradition passed down orally, which has survived the centuries without ever losing its beauty or uniqueness.
Through the theme of exile, present in the nūba as well as in the ḥawzī, Algerian chaâbi and berber folk songs, it shares a universal human experience: the pain of leaving one's homeland, of living one's identity far from home, but also the ability to transform this distance into memory, strength and hope. May this music allow us, if only for a moment, to look at exile with greater meaning and light.
As Jonathan Holt Shannon argues in Performing al-Andalus: Music and Nostalgia across the Mediterranean (Indiana University Press, 2015), al-Andalus is not only a place in the past; it is an idea performers keep remaking across the Mediterranean.
This music belongs in concert halls and classical playlists; it carries centuries-old stories that have been sustained and protected for generations through rigorous apprenticeships.
That is also why today's cultural catalogue can struggle with it. Platforms like Clean Categories often flatten traditions that were never meant to fit inside a tag.
Arabo-Andalusi repertoire deserves to be heard for what it is: a classical tradition from North Africa, built on poetry, modes, and the nūba suite, refined over centuries and still transmitted today.
Stay tuned as The New Arab heads to the event with full coverage. Click here to find out more and buy tickets to A Night in Andalusia with Lila Borsali | Royal Academy of Music
Rachida Lamri is a writer and multi-faceted creative behind many artistic initiatives in the UK. She is the founder of the Cultural Organisation Culturama and of DzFest and takes great interest in Arab and African culture and civil society movements
Follow her on Instagram: @dida0223 and on X: @rachidalamri