"Kazem, Kazem, Kazem." The crowd at the Berkeley Community Theater was calling for the Arab world's most popular singer to come out on stage, and when he did -- dressed in a dark blue suit and acknowledging their cheers -- the audience got even louder. Within minutes, fans were throwing roses and other flowers near his feet. Kazem al-Sahir said he felt at home.

Al-Sahir, who grew up in Baghdad, performed Friday night in a concert that was cathartic for his admirers, many of whom know an Iraq that is different from the one now associated with a looming war and the search for weapons of mass destruction. In the Iraq that al-Sahir sings about, people long for connections with lovers or lament the passing of relationships that once seemed promising. There is beauty and pain in al-Sahir's cascading voice.

"His is the only music I like from the Middle East," says Riyadh Haddad, 28,

of San Francisco, one of more than 3,000 people who attended Friday night's concert. "The Middle East is all sadness and trouble. If you listen to his music, you feel the real sadness. He talks about relationships in a different way -- in a social way."

In the front of the theater, Mohsin Sharif, a 23-year-old college student from Oakland, sat with an Arab kaffiyeh headdress rolled up in one hand. Sharif, who grew up in Yemen, was one of scores of people who tossed flowers on stage.

"People came here to show their support," Sharif said. "Iraq has been tortured so much in the past 12 years."

"It's hard," Sharif said of the threatened war in Iraq.

Middle East activist Hanan Rasheed, who introduced al-Sahir on stage, said the night was "dedicated to peace and humanity." (The concert was a benefit for Iraqi children.) Al-Sahir, speaking in Arabic, said he wanted to deliver "a message of love and peace to the American people." That he did, with a repertoire of songs that brimmed with intensity, and with the help of a 16- piece orchestra that featured Bassam Saba, a master of the nay flute who has performed with Yo-Yo Ma, and Michel Merhej, a virtuoso of the riq drum.

Al-Sahir can take a tune and infuse it with the kind of epic drama that is usually reserved for opera librettos, as in "Me and Laila" (Ana Wa Laila), which was ranked the world's sixth-best song in a BBC poll taken last year. On Friday night, al-Sahir stretched the tune past 10 minutes, exclaiming about a love that he tries to forget.

"What transpired with the object of my cries?" al-Sahir cries in the song. "Two years and she didn't hear the melody of my strings. . . . I suffered. But I do not reveal my sorrow."

"When you listen to it," said

Haddad, "you feel like you're somewhere else. It's incredible."

Baghdad was a subject of several songs Friday night, including the finale, "Beauty and His Love," in which al-Sahir compares the city he adores to his girlfriend, who becomes jealous because she thinks his affection is for another woman. The audience relished the chance to say the words with al-Sahir.

"Baghdad!" they sang, turning the Berkeley Community Theater into an echo chamber where -- for a moment or two -- the name of Iraq's capital was synonymous with joyous fervor. During the night, many in the crowd danced in their seats or in the aisles.

The Berkeley Community Theater has witnessed many great performances over the years, from Joni Mitchell to Bruce Springsteen, but Friday night's concert was a first: a night where an Arab pop superstar calmed nerves and became a conduit for people's concerns about a potential war.

Al-Sahir was in the right place at the right time. When the concert was over, he shook the hand of every member of his orchestra and stood quietly as a representative of Mayor Willie Brown's office read a proclamation that pronounced Friday "Kazem al-Sahir day" in San Francisco.

"This guy comes from the people," said Haddad, whose mother is from Iraq and father is from Yemen. "I had a chance to meet him two years ago. He's a very simple guy. He never shows off that he's a big star. You can talk to him as a friend. He has a very nice personality, compared to other people.

"Other (singers) just come here for business to make money. The money from tonight's concert is going to different foundations. That's fantastic."

Said Sharif: "You don't have to be from Iraq to like this music."