Music is a universal language that needs no translation. It is the strongest vector for conveying emotions, speaking to the soul and touching consciences.

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In recent years, acts of hatred, racism and anti-Semitism have been on the increase in France and around the world. Faced with the horror and violence that have invaded our streets and our daily lives, barriers have been created between different populations, out of a security reflex.
So how do we get together and communicate with each other in a climate of trust and sharing?

For generations of people from diverse backgrounds, whose national borders remain closed to one another, music is a means of building bridges and bringing them together. It softens hearts and resentments. It transcends fears and prejudices. It penetrates the soul, making anything possible.

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Many artists have naturally chosen to use music to bring people together, singing of hope and peace between peoples.
In unison, and mixing their styles, they succeeded in coming together, putting aside their differences, to proclaim with one voice the need for peace in the hearts.

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A project with three voices and a thousand paths

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They didn't know each other before, yet they sing lyrics filled with love, respect and cohesion.

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Between them, they embody a large part of humanity.

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The "Ensemble" trio of singers, made up of three men of faith: Farid Abdelkrim, a committed Muslim comedian and actor, Philippe Darmon, a cantor in a Paris synagogue, and Matthieu de Laubier, a Catholic priest, share their voices on the same album entitled "Liberté" to celebrate and inspire living together and tolerance. They are three voices, three traditions, three people in a single brotherhood.

An ambitious artistic project, which might have seemed angelic, but whose symbolic force is important since it brings together people from the three great monotheistic religions in the service of inter-religious dialogue, in an era troubled by the resurgence of fanaticism and terrorism.

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The voices of the three singers intermingle in a soothing symphony in unison, extolling the humanist values common to the Torah, the Bible and the Koran: "This is my faith, my hope, my love, my joy," for "if a sky divides men, the Earth unites them."

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A single voice for commitment

Like these two singers, one Jewish-Israeli, the other Arab-Israeli, Noa and Mira Awad are militant ambassadors for a dialogue of peace and hope in the Middle East.

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The singers first teamed up in 2002, at the height of the second Palestinian intifada, to address dialogue through their recorded version of the Beatles song "We Can Work It Out", which was performed in both Arabic and Hebrew. A few years later, in 2009, the duo was chosen to represent Israel at the Eurovision Song Contest with the song "There must be another way".

Although the two women come from very different backgrounds, their courageous and determined commitment illustrates the efforts of many organizations in Israel to promote peace and cooperation through joint projects such as economic development centers, extra-curricular sports and bilingual and bicultural schools.
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"Everyone is responsible for putting in their two cents for peace and coexistence. Our contribution is music," says Noa of the singing duo "We have a real friendship. Of course, we argue. But the beautiful thing is that we offer an example of what coexistence could look like."

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Joining forces to soothe

They gathered in the courtyard of the Invalides, for the national tribute ceremony to the victims of the November 13, 2015 attacks, which claimed the lives of 131 people and left 350 injured.
The trio of singers from different backgrounds and with very distinct vocal timbres - Nolwenn Leroy, the Breton, Camélia Jordana, the granddaughter of Algerian immigrants, and Yael Naim, the Franco-Israeli - covered Jacques Brel's iconic song "Quand on n'a que l'amour".

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Together, with their soft, strong, hoarse voices and pacifist lyrics, they responded to the terrorists who have plunged Paris into mourning and sought to destroy the cohesion of French society.

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In unison, they united their voices to respond to violence and barbarism. Singing so as not to remain silent.

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Singing to soothe resentment, the desire for revenge and the rejection of others. Singing to touch the soul and remind us of the absolute necessity of fraternity. Together they set an example of unity in the face of horror, whatever their origins
or religious convictions.

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Our differences, our wealth

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They're different but similar, they share a common history and values, and they all have the same goal: to show that understanding is possible, and that setting an example is all it takes to inspire.

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They came together on stage in Paris in January 2015, in reaction to the heavy attacks that struck France, around a symbolic track entitled "Pourquoi ne pas y croire..."

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The lyrics are all the more meaningful when written and sung by an eclectic trio of French, Moroccan and Israeli singers. On this occasion, singers Patrick Bruel, Youness Elguezouli and Idan Raichel have committed themselves to advancing history and writing it together with a universal song performed in French, Arabic and
Hebrew.

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Bruel's bold choice of Raichel, a Jewish-Israeli singer renowned for his cross- cultural collaborations that have changed the face of popular Israeli music by portraying a young, tolerant, multi-ethnic Israel, and Raï star Youness, a popular Moroccan-Muslim singer, to perform this song full of hope and fraternity perfectly illustrates the desire to embark on the path of dialogue and peace.

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Music is a marvellous instrument for making one's voice heard and expressing one's feelings. Using it to help raise awareness, engage in dialogue, and advocate understanding and coexistence is the noblest way to resist violence.

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