Rap inspires revolution abroad; apathy at home
OPINION - Since the end of the golden era, roughly around 1992, hip-hop has lacked any discernible political voice...
Much has been made of the role social media has played in fomenting the North African/Arab Spring uprisings. Twitter has been credited as being the medium used to disseminate information quickly. Lesser known, however, is the role that rap music has played spurring the youthful populations toward rebellion.
In Senegal, rappers Fou Malade (“Crazy Sick Guy”) and Thiat (“Junior”) have led demonstrations in the street as well in song against the government of President Abdoulaye Wade.
Rap was considered so dangerous in Libya that it was treated as a criminal offense under now deposed leader Muammar Gadhafi. Eighteen year old aspiring emcee Boge recalls two of his friends being arrested by secret police. Now, he rhymes “Our families are dying but yeah we’re still tough, Gadhafi is trying to assassinate us,” in a market in Benghazi, where the revolt against Gadhafi began.
WATCH A KARL BOSTIC REPORT ON RAP’S ROLE IN ARAB SPRING:
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It’s interesting that he names KRS-One, Ice Cube and Nas among his musical heroes. All three have been known for their outspoken nature and willingness to tackle political and social issues in their music. Missing is any influence of rappers who have debuted in the recent era of hip-hop. As rap finds its political voice overseas, here in the states it continues to exist as a near apolitical force.
The political consciousness hasn’t totally disappeared and has shown itself in spurts. In 2005, Kanye West was making his now infamous proclamation that “George Bush doesn’t care about black people,” while Mos Def was arrested outside of Radio City Music Hall and MTV’s Video Music Awards while performing his song “Dollar Day” which heavily criticized the Bush administration for its response (or lack thereof) to the crisis in New Orleans that followed Hurricane Katrina. Two years later, he was in the streets among the protesters calling for justice in the case of the Jena Six, while vocally challenging his peers to come join him.
His disdain is shared by fans and critics alike. Since the end of the golden era, roughly around 1992, hip-hop has lacked any discernible political voice. It has existed in pockets that are few and far apart. Young Jeezy and Ludacris penned tracks in support of then candidate Barack Obama’s presidential run, but on community issues like the killing of Oscar Grant, rappers have been relatively quiet.
That pervasive sense of apathy and disengagement has shown itself again with the execution of the possibly innocent Troy Davis. As Davis languished on death row approaching his final hours, support poured in from throughout the world. Absent from the roster, however was any major push from rappers to use their platform to help ensure his freedom.
Pittsburgh based rapper/activist Jasiri X, best known for his song “What if the Tea Party was Black?”, should be commended for the track “I Am Troy Davis (T.R.O.Y.)” on which he flips the Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth classic “They Reminisce Over You” into a brief history lesson on Davis’ case and a call to action.
A few rappers, most notably Big Boi of Outkast and Ghostface Killah of Wu-Tang, took to Twitter on September 20th to ask their followers to sign petitions, call and email the district attorney and judge who could commute the death sentence for Davis. But the case has been public knowledge and part of activist agendas for years, and up until his execution hip-hop was largely silent.
WATCH ‘TODAY SHOW’ COVERAGE OF THE EXECUTION OF TROY DAVIS:
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The rebellious spirit that defined hip-hop in its early days has been bought, sold, co-opted, diluted and commodified. As pop culture has embraced hip-hop and rappers have seen the financial benefits of being part of the establishment rather than trying to dismantle it, the potential for on wax or in the streets activism has been greatly reduced.
But as we lose that spirit of resistance here in the states, it has found a home abroad. But when the dust has settled and the revolutions in Senegal and the middle east are over, when the goals have been achieved, will the leaders who once found their voice in rap music be voluntarily silenced? Will they be able to sustain the level of political consciousness they found to help propel these movements, or will they allow it fizzle out like their American counterparts?
Anyone who believes in the power of art to affect change will certainly hope not.
