Video on YouTube, impossible to verify, shows a man purported to be Mr. Qashoush with his head lolling from a deep gash in his throat. Residents say security forces shot him, too. But people in Hama dwelled on the detail that stands as a metaphor for the essence of decades of dictatorship: That the simple act of speaking is subversive. “They really cut out his vocal cords!” exclaimed a 30-year-old pharmacist in Hama who gave his name as Wael. “Is there a greater symbol of the power of the word?”

In a rebellion whose leaders remain largely nameless and faceless, Mr. Qashoush has become somewhat celebrated in death. “The nightingale of the revolution,” one activist called him.

Image Antigovernment protests are a regular occurrence in Hama. Credit... The New York Times

But the revolt remains largely atomized, with protesters in cities connected first and foremost by the Internet, and rumors have proliferated about Mr. Qashoush himself. Even in Hama, where protest leaders in one neighborhood often do not know their colleagues in another, some residents have suggested that Mr. Qashoush was not the real singer, that two men had the same name, that he was really a government informer killed by residents, that he is still alive.

One resident insisted the man killed was a second-rate wedding singer.

“Every day in the street, just while you’re sitting somewhere, you can hear five or six rumors, and they turn out to be wrong,” said an engineer who gave his name as Adnan.

Many here see the government’s hand in everything. Lists of informers have circulated, but some believe security forces compiled them, hoping to discredit protesters or smear the reputations of businessmen helping them. When residents hanged an informer last month, some people in Hama suggested that government agents did it to make them look bad.

“We’ve heard this,” said a 23-year-old activist who gave his name as Obada.

Obada and others insisted that the song was actually written by a 23-year-old part-time electrician and student named Abdel-Rahman, also known as Rahmani. Sitting in a basement room, Rahmani celebrated what he called “days of creativity.”