Although scholars—for example, Cohen and Katz (Palestinian Arab Music, University of Chicago Press, 2006), Kaschl (Dance and Authenticity in Israel and Palestine, Brill, 2003), Rowe (Raising Dust, I. B. Tauris, 2010), and McDonald (My Voice Is My Weapon, Duke University Press, 2013)—have extensively addressed dabke in Palestine, there has not been much attention dedicated to dabke in other contexts. Advancing this conversation, Shayna Silverstein’s Fraught Balance addresses the social and political implications of Syrian dabke, related to gender, class, ethnicity, and state power. Although in most scholarship (except Kaschl) dabke appears only as one aspect within a more general focus on Palestinian dance or music, Silverstein centers dabke as the core subject of her study. Based on nearly two decades of fieldwork, digital ethnography, and archival research, Silverstein’s book presents dabke as a performative dance music practice, inextricably embedded in daily social interactions and inevitably caught up in the cultural politics of Syria. In her approach, the embodied participation in dabke enables expressions that strengthen communal groups while simultaneously recreating divisions. Ultimately, the monograph is a compelling attempt to disentangle the power dynamics specific to dabke as they intersect with societal structures, highlighting how the hierarchies of an authoritarian Syria are continuously enacted and negotiated.

Intended as a “poetic homage” (19) to the rhythmic six steps of the dance music tradition, the structure of Fraught Balance mirrors the aesthetics of dabke and is divided into three sections, each consisting of two chapters. But there is also a chronological rationale behind this organization. Part 1 (chapters 1 and 2) outlines the development of the staged, folkloric dabke from the second half of the twentieth century onward, whereas parts 2 (chapters 3, 4) and 3 (chapters 5, 6) turn to the everyday practices of dabke in the 2000s and the dance’s role amid war and displacement in the 2010s, respectively. Each part opens with an additional interlude, situating the chapters that follow in their relevant, broader Syrian political, social, and economic environment.

Relying mostly on archival texts and pictures, chapter 1 examines how nation-building efforts transformed the localized social practices of dabke into raqṣ shaʿbiyya (folk dance) by adapting it as a choreographed performance beginning in the 1950s. Silverstein posits that this “folklorization” of dabke as national cultural heritage involved staging a rural, female peasant subject (fellaha) to represent the homeland.

Continuing with the main theme of chapter 1, the next chapter draws on state-supported TV media, live performances, and a scholarly manuscript to uncover the creation of legitimate and illegitimate national differences based on provincial regions as well as ethnic and religious identities. The chapter describes how, despite attempting to privilege cultural pluralism among Syrians, such representations of dabke reproduced the marginalization of religious and non-Arab ethnic communities within the Assadist framework.

Focusing on the communal aspect of dabke performance based on four years of fieldwork in prewar Syria, in chapter 3 the author describes how intersubjective, playful “flow states” (102) emerge between and among dabke dancers and musicians, and how they contribute to the production of hegemonic and nonhegemonic masculinities through embodied, corporeal interactions, coined as “relational masculinity” (104–105) by Silverstein.

The fourth chapter presents the argument that social bonding between dabke participants occurs in a space with intensified, loud, and distorted audio, which constitutes the “liveness” (145) of the listening experience. This acoustic excess, which Silverstein terms “sonic spectacularity” (137), reveals class relations insofar as, in gentrified urban areas, such aesthetics of dabke are often devalued as inappropriate.

In chapter 5, Silverstein extends her argument on relational masculinity and homosocial play and pleasure (chapter 3) in the context of armed conflict. Due to limited access to fieldwork in Syria, she anchors this analysis in digital media: videos of popular propaganda songs, dancing soldiers in active war zones, and dance circles among Kurdish women. Emphasizing the “politically fluid” (175) nature of dabke, she argues that dabke as an embodied performance should not be exclusively understood as an effort of resistance against state powers. Rather, both pro-regime and anti-regime actors appropriated the dance during the conflict.

The final chapter shifts focus from Syria to the diaspora. Instead of carrying the meanings associated with dabke in their home country, Syrian artists in the West reframe dabke through choreography and pedagogy. According to Silverstein, they challenge the feminization of male refugees and forge new perspectives on Syrian masculinity in displacement.

Overall, Silverstein’s writing style is rich with colorful anecdotes that illustrate her fieldwork encounters and the analyzed video and picture materials. Such portrayals are especially engaging when they serve as a vivid introduction to the main themes of the chapter. These written descriptions are complemented by the companion website available at https://shaynasilverstein.com/fraughtbalance-media/, where readers can find multiple videos and images mentioned in the monograph. These accessory resources are clearly cataloged for each chapter, facilitating a smooth navigation of the online platform. When watching a materialized dabke performance with music at a folk festival or wedding, it is difficult not to acknowledge the added value of this supplementary resource.

Moreover, Silverstein manages to weave a variety of sources into a convincing narrative of dabke as a flexible, multilayered practice, filled with context-specific meanings. Her interpretation is based on careful reflection and addressing the topic from a range of angles, resulting in a well-rounded sense of what dabke is and what it can be. As indicated, Silverstein’s analysis is grounded against the backdrop of wider, societally relevant conditions. But this is not its only strength; she also aptly reflects on her methods and positionality and their impacts on the final product. This is epitomized by honestly admitting that her representation of Syrian dabke is still only partial because of the lack of access to Kurdish and Bedouin communities.

However, although this work thoroughly covers dabke’s relationship to aspects of gender, class, ethnicity, and nationhood, one wonders how religion comes into this picture. This is particularly intriguing because religion has often been a pressing matter in Syrian society. There is a sense of loss here; Silverstein’s PhD dissertation (University of Chicago, 2012), on which a large portion of Fraught Balance was built, does discuss dabke in relation to the ritual processes of three religious communities. Still, this is a promising area that future research may choose to explore.

In addition, after a close reading, the reader might notice a consistent pattern throughout the book. Silverstein repeatedly integrates certain concepts from other scholars into her work without much elaboration on those concepts—see, for example, “sociological solidity” (142) or “architectonic legacy” (224). For those unfamiliar with these terms, the scattered deployment of specialized concepts over the chapters may hinder clarity and invite scrutiny about the extent to which such concepts accurately apply to the book’s argument.

Undoubtedly, however, Fraught Balance is the single most comprehensive English-language academic account on dabke in Syria. It is an illuminating contribution that pushes readers to think critically about cultural performance and social interactions over multiple decades of Syrian life.