
Welcome to The Mantle’s third virtual roundtable, and the second in our series on the roles of individuals in times of conflict. In our previous discussion, "Pens and Swords," three talented writers addressed their roles in the face of violence. In "Future Weapons," we pose the same question to four musicians from around the world whose music cuts across not only genres, but also transcends boundaries and cultures.
The musician plays a unique role in times of conflict, a role that is not always obvious. The approaches musicians take in the face of conflict are unique to the person and to the situation, as Omékongo Dibinga (USA/Democratic Republic of Congo), Obaash (Tehran, Iran), Sheba (USA/Ethiopia), and Aaron Shneyer (Jerusalem, Israel/Palestine) attest. As we shall see, conflict is not always marked by bullets and bombs. Structural violence caused by unseen forces and tension amongst people forced to live through difficult circumstances represent conflict of another kind. But this conflict hardly escapes the mind of the musician.
The backgrounds and experiences of Omékongo, Obaash, Sheba, and Aaron may differ, but they all share the conviction that a musician cannot stand idly by in the face of injustice. They must do what musicians do best: with their beats and lyrics they move the masses on the dance floor, lift spirits, and hopefully move them to become better actors in society.
To follow the roundtable that asks, “What is the role of the musician in a conflict zone?” see my introductory remarks below. Then click on each of the participants to read their essays and responses. At the bottom of this page you can view my concluding remarks. Letters regarding this roundtable are welcome and can be sent to letters(at)mantlethought.org.
As an added bonus, MP3s of music by all of our participants (and special guest Bob Marley) can be heard here.
Enjoy!
- Shaun Randol, Editor in Chief. October, 26, 2010

illustrations by Sarah D. Schulman
Moderator's Introduction
What is the role of the musician in a conflict zone?
The very question assumes that a musician has a duty to act during a time of conflict. That is, asking a musician about his or her role in a conflict zone assumes that there is an artistic, rather than just a civic, role to play. There is something special about music that speaks to what it means to be human in this world, in times of both peace and conflict. In regards to the latter, Bob Marley and Fela Kuti provide a precedent as to how a musician might react when faced with difficult circumstances. In contemporary times, such likenesses could be drawn on Bono, Angélique Kidjo, Youssou N'Dour, and even Michael Jackson and Shakira.
Musicians have microphones and amplifiers; they are meant to be heard loud and clear across distances. Radio and television, and now online venues like MySpace and YouTube, increase their audiences—and their influence—vastly. When conflict emerges, then, the musician occupies a unique position in culture and society. Should their music and lyrics reflect the upheaval and anxiety that surrounds them and larger society? Or, no matter what they sing about, does the musician's very presence on stage become an act of courage, or disobedience, or leadership?
But, must they act at all? Musicians are meant to be heard, after all. Could the muting of a microphone and the ushering in of a deafening silence have a much greater impact in the face of adversity? Perhaps the more significant act a musician can take is to take no musical action at all, to enact a protest of silence.
Thanks to Omékongo Dibinga, Obaash, Sheba, and Aaron for tackling this provocative issue. The floor is theirs.
(Don't forget: MP3s of music by all of our our participants and special guest Bob Marley, can be heard here.)
(Shaun is the Founder and Editor in Chief of The Mantle, as well as an Associate Fellow at the World Policy Institute in New York City).
To Be the Spark
Life is a dangerous proposition. At any moment in time, any number of unfortunate things can cut us down and end us in an instant. This unpleasant reality is something we human beings would like to distract ourselves from. That is perfectly reasonable (who wants to think about that?). But the uncertainty of our lives is a truth. Ultimately, there is not one aspect of our lives that we can be certain of; this is the conflict that lies at the essence of humanity. It is why we bother fighting for our food. Our ancestors learned this the hard way while trying to stay alive in the desert. Our DNA carries in it a coded fear that our wants are not promised. At a biological level we are constantly worried that the next meal could be our last. This is why we really fight. Uncertainty is a crisis for us. It’s scary. It’s dangerous. It requires faith. Life… is a conflict zone.
I am a musician.* For the most part I understand that my opinions may never impact policy. Even if my opinions were heard by the world at large, chances are sheer popularity would taint my credibility. The paradox of popularity is that pointing out serious issues tends to be sacrificed in the pursuit of reaching the masses. Very few musical artists escape this stigma (yes, Bono happens to be one of them). For the most part in the music business, this is what we are told when we try to sell our songs: “Don’t go over peoples’ heads. Everybody just wants to have a good time.” In the words of the incredible Mary J. Blige, “Don’t bring no hateration, to the dancerie.” If my goal to is reach as many people as Blige does, this is advice I might want to take. And don’t get it twisted: it is my goal.
So, by virtue of the fact that I actually consider myself a Pop Artist, some people would recommend that I don’t answer the question put forth by this roundtable. They might suggest that I play dumb or mute, or pretend that I was on tour or in the studio, or too busy being fabulous to answer. Maybe I should answer the question in slang, or tweet it so that the response is less than 140 characters. Some would advise me not to alienate fans by appearing to actually have an opinion about this. I might not want to sound too smart. Or too much like a smart ass. Many people would say there is a formula for pop music success, and it does not involve saying anything that rocks the boat. There are some that would suggest I should say nothing and simply, to quote the Dixie Chicks, “Shut up and sing.”
But here is the thing: I love this question and I can't shut up about it. I’ll take it step further and say that asking “what is the role of the musician in a conflict zone?” gets at the heart of why I am a Musician. I think I should care about conflict zones on this planet. It’s a good thing that I believe my audience is not flattered by playing down my concern for the world, or the fact that I have deep respect for their intelligence. So out of respect for them, I will not maintain the illusion that I am drinking Crystal champagne in the back of a limousine that I have turned into a traveling nightclub. Why should anyone care to answer this question? I think we are all responsible for making a difference on this planet. Even though, for the most part, I can assume that my lights are going to stay on tonight, that I am going to have a decent meal for dinner and a roof over my head, somewhere in the world babies are dying, politicians are lying, and the planet is undoubtedly burning. And sitting in the land of milk and honey, doing nothing about that, seems like a ridiculous, arrogant, and obnoxious thing to do in the face of this sobering reality.

I feel compelled to say or do something about the quality of life on this planet if I can, in any small way, and somehow I think that would make my life worthwhile. I have a fantasy that I can somehow connect my real concerns about affecting life on this planet for the better to music that makes people want to dance and revel in a celebration of life. I concede that this experiment might be highly deluded. Yet, for some reason, I believe that in a moment of awareness of the space where all human beings are connected by the same threads of concern for the fragility of life, with all of its uncertainty, there is a sublime opportunity to celebrate the gift of life itself. In those moments, we are free from fear and full of boundless and limitless possibility. I may never change the world, but in the words of the brilliant rapper Tupac Shakur, maybe "I'm not saying I'm gonna change the world, but I guarantee that I will spark the brain that will change the world."
I’m going to give it my best shot. I hope I get it right. If I wanted to guarantee that I would affect policy, I would have become a politician or lawyer. I chose music and music chose me. I consider it a blessing. I believe a musician’s role in a conflict zone is to spark our brains with sounds that somehow help us navigate the tricky terrain of lives that are themselves, a minefield of crisis and conflict. Life itself is the conflict zone. Music has a magical quality of making you aware of the dangers of life in one moment, and making you forget how dangerous your life is in the next instant. Music can inspire you to stand up for injustice or remind you to enjoy the beautiful matrix of life connecting us all. Music is our soundtrack to uncertainty; it gives us hope when we have no clue what’s coming next. When you embrace the uncertainty of life, anything becomes possible. And when anything is possible, everything is possible. And when you wake up to that, you just feel alive. In the words of the one the greatest leaders of our time, Bob Marley, “when [music] hits you feel no pain.”
Music is the antidote to conflict. It disarms, it diffuses, it restores. When music is playing in our hearts as we dance with the unknown, we are lifted. I carry these words in my soul: "Music is the weapon. Music is the weapon of the future.”—Fela Anikulapo Kuti. What's better than a weapon that brings us together instead of tearing us apart?
I am not trying to minimize the terror of someone who must daily traverse fields pregnant with landmines, or someone who faces daily anxiety that their child might be snatched in the middle of the night and forced to be a soldier; or compare these realities to the odds of my getting hit by a bus on 42nd Street in New York City. But I think that the fear of not knowing what happens in the next moments of our lives is the one thing we all have in common. We all have to negotiate and try to make sense of the unpredictability of our lives; our happiness is dependent on how gracefully we accept the unknown. I have no cure for these variables, just a song, a beat, and some lyrics that I hope are good enough to engage people in feeling alive. My goals might be ambitious, but they speak to the best contribution I think a musician can make in dealing with conflict. At best, all I can do is inspire a spark in the brain of someone who might actually go out and change things.
I am neither Nelson Mandela nor Ban Ki-moon, but I do care for the world with the same passion, and will always hope that one day I can stand on a platform large enough to start a foundation for AIDS patients in Ethiopia, or raise money for a recent immigrant to the United States who needs a scholarship in Chicago, or feed hungry children in Bangladesh, or build a home for a family in Haiti. Until then, I’m going to make music, share it with you, and hope that we can connect long enough to celebrate this unpredictable life together. What happens after that, well, we’ll just have to see. I’m just going to keep making music and play my role the best way I know how.
October 26, 2010
*To learn more about Sheba and her music, visit here website here and her MySpace music site here.
Responses

Given your tendency toward “positive” rap/hip-hop in your own musical career, what do you make of hip-hop music that promotes what many see as “necessary violence?” Here, for example, I think of The Coup or Dead Prez who advocate militant action against unjust socio-economic systems. Is the propagation of violence for the “good” okay in hip-hop and music in general?

I don't believe, support or condone violence under any circumstances: period. And I think peaceful resistance in a world that is overwhelmingly violent is revolutionary.

You spoke about having a fantasy of being able to connect music to worldly concerns? Who in your mind fulfills that fantasy? Which musicians, past and/or present? (In a sense, who are your musical idols in this respect?)?

It's a really transcendent thing when songs can lift your spirits and raise your awareness at the same time. Michael Jackson was a master at this, songs like "Man in the Mirror" and "Wanna Be Starting Something" are social commentary, but they also musically elevate you. There are more names I can mention, Bob Marley, Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye, Fela Kuti, U2, but the list isn't too long. It's what's made the greats, great in my opinion. It's what separated the ones that were just musically gifted from the ones that impacted and shifted culture.

Can you speak to the role of women musicians specifically in conflict zones? Are they as prevalent? Are they doing as much or more as the men in similar situations? Immediate musicians that come to my mind are Fela Kuti, Bob Marley, Bono, Rage Against the Machine, the emergent K’Naan, and Wyclef Jean. At the risk of appearing ignorant, I have to strain to think of women who would be of equal stature. Certainly they are out there—you are proof—but the female musicians who are politically engaged are likely less well-known than those men I just listed.

I am interested in popular music so I'll speak to that: there are a couple of well known female musicians of equal stature whose names deserve a shout out: Lauryn Hill, Nneka and to some degree Shakira, to mention a few that are widely known. To be fair, I am not sure if it is because female artists lean on other things to sell music, or if it is because they are not really given the same platform to showcase their bravery and intelligence. All I know is that we exist, and that a woman who speaks up for issues that affect humanity is a powerhouse worth listening to.

Who is your intended audience for your music? Americans? Ethiopians? Others? How do you reach them?

My goal is to bring as many people to the party as I possibly can. I make music to speak into the hearts of people of walks of life. I think my life experience having grown up living and interacting with people all over the world has given me as sense that I belong with everyone and everyone belongs with me. I grew up in the United Nations community, so that's more than just a worldview, it's my life. But, also, if you look at the demographics of my fans, they also come from everywhere. I've been running my label alone, by hiring out teams of people in different markets around the world, hopping on a plane and going out to promote in person. I'm not afraid to go anywhere, I feel like I can relate to anyone.
Ultimately though, it's the Internet that is allowing us to connect with each other in a way that has never been possible for human beings. It's a tremendous gift and it's all about figuring out ways to use it to connect the dots to your fans worldwide. One of the greatest things about the Internet is that it's a lot less costly to promote an artist like myself who speaks to demographics across continents. I feel like I am making music at a time that really benefits me.
Music is a Balancing Act
Throughout history we have seen that some of the greatest works of art were created under pressure. Take, for example, rock and roll music during the 1960s and 1970s while the United States was at war with Vietnam, or great literature produced during World War II. Some of this artwork was more effective in fighting a cause than social and human rights activists were. Why?
When we say a country is in conflict, what does it mean? For me it means that something is causing an imbalance. The minority of society may receive more than what the majority perceives is just, so the majority tries to manipulate the scale to create a new balance, in the name of equal treatment. In a conflicted country, we seek balance. Art is a symbol of balance. A song, a film, a painting, they are all symbols of balance. When a musician puts notes on a scale it's very much like a politician attempting to put elements of society in perfect balance. The same analysis applies to painting, filmmaking, poetry, and other art forms.
To repeat: Art is a symbol of balance. An artist is the creator of this balance. A society in conflict seeks the balance. An artist in a society experiencing conflict becomes a symbol for this balancing act.
Let’s see it from another perspective. We (the Yellow Dogs*) are an underground band from Iran, a country in conflict, in which the government thinks that they are the voice of the majority of society. The government only wants the people to hear their own voice, and their side of story. They want to balance society too, but in their own way. Instead of creating balance, however, they are isolating large segments of society. Musicians and artists like us are the voices of the isolated part of the society.
It is our duty to show the rest of the country that the isolated, unheard elements are alive! We don't want to change others; we only want to be visible, to express our opinions, and to show others that all of us have the right to be part of this big puzzle called society.
When people see and hear different styles of thinking and living it will affect their acceptance of the other's ideology. For a country in which many peoples’ politics are based on one ideology, it means certain death to some. But over a long time, seeing and hearing other ways of thinking will foster a renaissance for the society at large.
We need to create space in society for everyone to fit into, so that all elements of society are counted and represented. This is our ideal. When we all accept this increased space, we complete the puzzle, a piece of art, a symphony. But when we hide some of the puzzle pieces that we don’t like, for whatever reason, we will fail to achieve the ideal. A puzzle with pieces missing doesn’t work. The social role of a musician in a conflict country is to encourage the people to create that idealistic landscape.
***

We, the Yellow Dogs, truly are the voice of an isolated part of Iranian youth. We had a small fan base, but word got out about our story and music. The government became curious about us, and because the government doesn’t like us back home, they do not allow us to play freely. So, being an illegal band made us special among the other musicians who try to obtain favor from the government by adopting their music to fit with government norms. We didn't want to make these concessions, and we tried hard not to box ourselves in the bubble that society and authorities expect us to live in.
In Iran it was always a dream for us to play a legal concert, but we couldn't because Western music (as they say) is illegal. We can only dream of playing for the Iranian public. Twice in 2007, however, we performed two concerts with our close friends, a progressive band called Free Keys, in a basement. The atmosphere was great, because 90 percent of the people had never been to a real concert with a dance floor and light show. It was like Shangri-La. You can't experience the same emotion and energy anywhere else, not even in New York.
One of our most important tools for showing ourselves to Iran and its people is the Internet. Right now in Iran there's a lack of entertainment among the younger generation. Instead of spending their time outside of their houses, they spend it in front of their computers. The Internet provides a way to escape from the boredom of day-to-day life, for in this artificial world there are no boundaries, laws, or authorities. Although the government filters a lot of web pages, people still find a way to us.
Our actions will give courage to others to find their own way. As I said before, a society is like a puzzle. But a puzzle with pieces that look exactly the same does not exist because pieces do not fit together.
October 26, 2010
*To learn more about Obaash and the Yellow Dogs, visit their MySpace page here.
Responses

There is a call for musicians to boycott performing in Israel. The clamor has reached new heights since the Israel raid of the Gaza flotilla in May. Gil-Scott Heron and Elvis Costello, for example, announced their boycotts. In issuing his announcement, Costello said it was sometimes better for musicians to remain silent rather than add to the static surrounding a conflict. Do you agree with the Israel-artist boycott? Is it sometimes better to remain silent in a time of conflict?

No. Actually this is exactly what the regime wants to do with the artists, to isolate them and not let their voices reach the people. I think totally in the opposite way. Right now the situation in Iran is depressing and art, especially critical art, talks about the problems of people and society. So this strategy isn't going to work for Iran.
In Israel it's another story. There is still a lot to complain about in Iran, and the population of artists is growing right now. They are the driving force for the youth for a better tomorrow.

Do people in Iran trade music secretly with CDs or MP3s as a way to exchange ideas? What effect does this have on the culture?

Yes they do, they also use the Internet for sending films, music, and pictures to each other. Right now the Internet is one of the only ways to exchange ideas, and because of it awareness in society has increased. The public news and media is under control of the government so they are not true most of the time, and they are using it as some sort of brainwashing machine. But on the Internet people will get anything that they want.

What role did musicians play in the recent Green Revolution in Iran?

They really support the movement—it really inspired the artists, especially musicians. I think all the well known Iranian bands and artists sang something about the whole movement.

Which musicians around the world or in history do you find to be inspirational? Which ones provide a model for how musicians in Iran can work against the current system?

There's a lot of them. For me it's Ian Curtis, Iggy Pop, a lot of ‘60s and ‘70s bands, but I really like to be inspired by the people, places and feelings rather than music, because I have my own specific story to tell (which everyone does), and I like to tell it my way.

Will you have a bigger influence on Iranian culture if you are in exile and underground, or if you are popular and known by everyone in Iran?

The thing is that in Iran you can be underground and also famous, but 90% of this kind of musician gets out of Iran after a while because it's really hard for them to handle the pressure. When they are outside they have more courage in their songs. Popular artists have more influence, but they don't have a deep influence. They don't criticize, they just sing about love, revenge, and other themes. That's why we prefer being underground more than being mainstream.
The Fight for Freedom
The American rapper Bomani “D’Mite” Armah once said that “music is the language of spirits.” In a conflict zone, however, music can literally be the language of life and death. Conflict can take many forms. Many in the realm of social justice are most likely to think of conflict zones as war zones such as those in Sudan, Burma, or the Democratic Republic of Congo (D.R.C.). The truth of the matter is that the term “conflict” applies to many aspects of society. Conflict exists in every day society, in “developed” countries, inner city neighborhoods, suburban enclaves, religious institutions, and even in our educational institutions.
Chuck D of The 1990s popular rap group Public Enemy once referred to rap music as the “Black CNN.” When he made that statement, he was referring to the fact that in the United States, mainstream media depictions of life in inner-city Black neighborhoods primarily portrayed the Black community negatively. As someone* who grew up in an inner-city Black neighborhood and still lives in one today, I attest to Chuck D’s sentiment. The media, even today, but especially in the Eighties and Nineties, primarily shows images of Black people in the city as gangsters, drug dealers, and as other forms of uneducated crime perpetrators and victims. Rap music helped paint a more balanced perspective of Black community life.
While we were dealing with the pejorative issues portrayed by mainstream media in our communities, most rap music, particularly during the “Golden Age” of the late Eighties and early Nineties, also helped portray a community where education was valued, church participation was vibrant, our history respected, and family life cherished. Music groups like Public Enemy, Boogie Down Productions, De La Soul, A Tribe Called Quest, and Brand Nubian helped many of us in the inner-city community keep our heads high even while much of the nation (and world) had an unfavorable view of us.
As it relates to our educational system, many of us in Black America looked at our schools as a conflict zone, and this is no exaggeration. In our schools, we were taught that our origins began with the trans-Atlantic Slave Trade and not with the great kings and queens of Africa. As Malcolm X said, “Once you think your people never did anything, you think you can never do anything.” We were taught that there was no reason to be committed to our people because we would end up slain like Malcolm and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. We were taught to aspire to be athletes and musicians because the great contributions of Black people to America only came in those forms, save for the few posters of Black academic achievement that appeared on the walls during the 28 day celebration entitled “Black History Month,” which was often sponsored by beer companies.

It was during this period that rap music truly served as our educational tool of empowerment and served as a counterbalance to the brainwashing that was our educational system. When teachers were dragging me to the office and calling me a “fucking punk,” KRS-One (referred to by many of us as “The Teacher”) was telling me in songs like “You Must Learn” that:
What do you mean when you say I'm rebellious
'Cause I don't accept everything that you're telling us
What are you selling us the creator dwellin' us
I sit in your unknown class while you're failing' us
'Cause you don't know that you ain't just a janitor
No one told you about Benjamin Banneker
A brilliant Black man that invented the almanac
Can't you see where KRS is coming at?
With Eli Whitney, Haile Selassie,
Grand Bill Woods made the walky-talky
Lewis Latimer improved on Edison
Charles Drew did a lot for medicine
Garrett Morgan made the traffic lights
Harriet Tubman freed the slaves at night
Madame CJ Walker made a straightin' comb
But you won't know this if you weren't shown
The point I'm gettin' at it might be harsh
'Cause we're just walkin' around brainwashed
For those of us that looked at education as a conflict zone, rap music for many of us was our only saving grace and tool of empowerment. In fact, many successful Black Americans under the age of 40 who came from the inner-city will definitely reference positive rap music as an important part of their upbringing and creation of self esteem, even if they grew up in a positive household.
*
It should be easy by now to understand how music helped many of us survive the conflict zone I describe as inner-city America. Having explored that topic, it is now important to turn to music in war conflict zones. Across the globe and throughout history, music has served as a tool to not only inspire and motivate the suffering, but to liberate them as well. Music in, about, and from conflict zones can also educate the masses on conflicts that they are not aware of. A recent example—and the one that I am most familiar with—is the Democratic Republic of the Congo.1
The D.R.C. has been engulfed in a bloody war since the mid-1990s, a war that has taken many incessant forms. Since the beginning of this conflict, over five million people have died. What began as Rwandan and Ugandan forces invading eastern Congo to allegedly prevent rebel invasions into their own countries has turned into a war where over 20 rebel groups now occupy eastern Congo, fueling their movements by raping both the country of its natural resources and its people. Many of these resources funnel their way through Uganda and Rwanda, who are now leading exporters of diamonds and gold, resources they do not even possess! What has been sad for many of us is that most of the world knows nothing of our plight.
The ignorance by the global majority that their electronic products, such as televisions, cell phones, game consoles, and computers, are coming from the world’s deadliest conflict since World War II has fueled my work as a musician. As a Congolese-American, protesting against violence and exploitation in the Congo has become the family business. As far back as the 1800s, my family has been fighting against Arab enslavement, King Leopold’s occupation, Belgian colonialism, and neocolonialist policies. After exhausting many efforts to reach the public and raise awareness on the Congo through traditional academic means, I realized that the best way to reach, educate, and motivate the masses to action in this multimedia age was through music.
While working in Congolese refugee camps in 2002, I experienced the crisis first-hand. I worked with 5,000 internally displaced persons who had fled eastern Congo. Though I had written songs that had given an historical perspective on the Congo before: the dead bodies, the people we drove to the hospital who died the next day, losing my 22-year old cousin who died from a common cold on the same day I met him, and having bodies being found bloated because they hadn’t been embalmed, told me that I needed to use music to speak to the masses on this plight. While in Congo, I wrote “Welcome to the Congo,” which detailed my eyewitness account of the Congo (excerpt below):
I’ve visited Congolese refugee camps
To find thatthere’s not even any refuge for refugees
Abandoned Congolese mothers and children
Living in tents made out of empty rice bags
While lice drags through their hair
And their daughters living in despair,
Start having babies at 12-years-old
With 50-year-old married men with no humility
Who pay them $0.25 for their virginity
And the possibility of exchange for AIDS
Along with several other artists, music has become the tool to inspire the masses to take action on the crisis in the Congo. I, along with other non-Congolese artists such as Norah Jones, Mos Def, Damien Rice, Angelique Kidjo, Bat For Lashes, Rodrigo y Gabriella, and Amadou & Mariam, have lent our voices to an album entitled “Raise Hope for Congo” designed to raise awareness and funds for the people of Congo. Student groups like STAND NOW, which originally began as a Sudanese advocacy organization, have also taken on Congo as one of its primary causes. Across the U.S., protests have taken place demanding that legislators adopt tough conflict mineral legislation (HR 4128); in front of organizations like Apple, Dell, and Microsoft; and against colleges and universities that patronize the aforementioned companies.
While music is not the only reason that there is increased activism on the Congo, in this multimedia age in which we live, music is the primary and most easily recognizable vehicle to, as they say, “comfort the afflicted and afflict the comforted.” Any musician who has been given the gift from above to communicate the voice of the voiceless, inspire action, and save lives but refuses to do so is committing a criminal act. To quote the late, great artist and activist Paul Robeson, “the artist must elect to fight for freedom or for slavery. I have made my choice.”
October 26, 2010
*To learn more about Omékongo Dibinga, visit his website here.
1. Omékongo Dibinga is featured on the "Raise Hope for Congo" album, a project aimed at raising awareness of the crimes against humanity occurring in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Other artists featured on the album include Norah Jones, Mos Def, Angelique Kidjo, Sheryl Crow, and many more. To learn more about the "Raise Hope for Congo" album, visit here.
Responses

I deeply appreciate the insights Omékongo offers here. Where have CNN and the BBC been while millions have died and been displaced in the DRC? So many of us around the world remain ignorant to what's happening, ignorant that we are all connected to this situation. There are two problems here: the powerful don't want us to know the truth AND we don't want to know the truth - because we like our mp3 players and flat screen TVs. How can truth be profitable? It's painful and confusing to know that we purchasers of computers and cell phones are all in some way responsible for the atrocities taking place in the Congo. Only when we take a minute to listen and reflect on our priorities will something really change. Of course, after understanding the problem, we need to have some idea of possible solutions, alternatives - practical steps each of us can take. It's much harder to stay in bed when I know there are things I could be doing. I hope Omékongo’s music can be heard by the whole world, not just the people of the Congo. We need more of the truth.

What do you make of concerts/programs like Live 8, where musicians from around the world give concerts to raise awareness and funds for a cause that is often so distant from the musician’s reality? Or what about individual musicians/bands that promote a singular cause, again, often far away from their own country and day-to-day interactions? Do they do more harm or good? The intention is there, but…

I think the intentions of the artists are good, but something happens between the time the concert starts and the music hits the audience. Somehow, people are led to believe that by attending these types of events, and giving some money, their work is somehow done. Particularly in this day and age, everyone believes that there are quick fix solutions to real problems such as genocide, hunger, etc. There needs to be a way where these artists can link their causes to real education about say, for example, how the foreign policies of their host governments play into the chosen crisis. We’re not mentally able to think on that level in this quick-fix generation.

Are you concerned with tendencies in hip-hop and rap music that seemingly (and sometimes blatantly) celebrates violence and misogyny? Do such groups do a disservice to the “education” that much of Black America (and the rest of America, for that matter) receives? Many argue that rappers just reflect their reality, but in many cases the same rappers exaggerate or belabor the violent themes. You mentioned great acts like KRS-One and De La Soul as being positive influences, but these are not exactly mainstream acts these days.

It’s not just hip-hop that celebrates violence, misogyny, and (I will add) prison culture. In America nowadays, notoriety sells. Lil’ Kim went to jail for lying and came out a bigger star, but so did Martha Stewart, and I’m sure Lindsay Lohan will be back on the screen soon too. Furthermore, America in general hates women and fathers. On TV the shows are basically soft porn. You have to be an extremely attractive female to be on the news today. Sex tapes get females celebrity status and no one ever hears about the guy in the video. This is why guys like KRS-ONE are not mainstream. As rapper Lloyd Banks said: “Fuck being positive ’cause negativity sells faster.” Getting arrested, making sex tapes, cursing someone out on YouTube; these things get you record deals and book deals nowadays, whereas before you would be shamed. Rap is a reflection of that, and let’s not talk about the fact that it’s the White-owned record companies that are putting out this music (unless you want to). I could write about this for days. Just YouTube Antoine Dodson. Some white guys make a video from a TV interview in the hood of a black girl who fends off her would be rapist. The video gets over 10,000,000 hits and Antoine Dodson is a star profiting off a song someone spliced from the attempted rape of his sister. You can’t make this stuff up. Nowadays guys just have to look stupid on YouTube and they get paid. Why go to school and get degrees when people only listen to celebrities and YouTube fools?

On the flipside, what do you make of hip-hop music that promotes what many see as “necessary violence?” Here, for example, I think of The Coup or Dead Prez who advocate militant action against unjust socio-economic systems. Is the propagation of violence for the “good” okay in hip-hop and music in general?

I don’t have a problem with people advocating self defense but I DO have a problem with espousing violence of any sort. Furthermore, at the top of Dead Prez’s record label is a white person so I’m not really for people acting like they’ll kill white people when they rely on white people to release their music. How revolutionary is that really?

Is it ironic that the materialistic tendencies of American rappers, especially in regards to diamonds and electronic devices, fuel conflict in places like DRC? Or, is there a disconnect between Black American rappers (or Black America) and the people of Africa?

It’s more sad than ironic. There is a huge disconnect between blacks here and Africans. My whole life has been spent trying to bridge that gap. As Malcolm X said, people have a vested interest in seeing that Black Americans do not connect with Africa. As is the case with rappers like Paul Wall, once they are exposed to atrocities like the diamonds from Sierra Leone, they tend to change their approach. Lastly though, there is an American disconnect with the African continent. It’s not just rappers buying cell phones and other electronics that are killing people back in Congo. America is disconnected from the rest of the planet.

Is hip-hop the next revolutionary music? Is it the 21st century version of 1960s rock and roll?

Hip-hop (in the U.S.) WAS the next revolutionary thing, but it hasn’t been for about 15 years. It’s gone way too commercial now. It was the late 1980s/1990s version of rock & roll. It’s all about the money now. Hip-Hop is as American as apple pie right now.
The Mic is More Powerful than the Gun
On September 21, 2008, Heartbeat Jerusalem,* a community of Israeli and Palestinian musicians using music to build understanding and create change, held its first concert ever. For nine months our first group of 12 Israeli and Palestinian musicians, ages 13-18, defied the status quo of separation, hatred, and fear. We met once a week for eight months to study and create music together. Over 300 Palestinians, Israelis, and internationals attended their debut concert at the stunning YMCA-Three Arches Concert Hall in Jerusalem. The audience came to state their common desire for peace and their support for the young musicians’ cooperative effort. The Heartbeat youth played and sang their hearts out. After the show, the audience lined up to congratulate the band members and thank them for their performance. The New York Times1 and Al-Arabiya TV produced excellent features on the event, and numerous local Israeli and Palestinian papers covered the concert too, writing kind articles (albeit often for the third page of the paper's arts section). For a “peace program,” we received terrific media coverage.
The next evening, on September 22, 2008, as I walked up the hill to pay our soundman for the previous night, I witnessed an 18 year-old plow into a crowd of Israeli soldiers with his father’s BMW. Within moments a mob of mostly orthodox-Jewish men, who lived nearby, gathered at the scene of the incident. According to the crowd’s telling of the events, and the subsequent Israeli and Western media coverage, this young Palestinian man had committed a suicide attack. We later learned that he had broken up with his girlfriend earlier that night. Apparently he had a few drinks, took his dad’s car, and was on an angry “joy-ride,” presumably to blow off steam, when he saw a crowd of Israeli soldiers crossing the street. In the end, none of the soldiers died, although 13 were injured. Other soldiers at the scene shot the young driver dead and his car skidded into a nearby electrical box. Reports of his “attack” flew around the world, making headlines on major news channels and newspapers. Within moments of the incident, a mob of 500 Jewish men gathered. I saw two Arab men in the crowd. One was running for his life, being chased away by over one hundred orthodox Jewish men. The second tauntingly tossed an object into the crowd and was promptly beaten, thrown on the ground, and kicked to a pulp by six young men. The Israeli Defense Minister, Ehud Barak, promptly announced his support for re-intensifying the home demolitions of all those related to terrorists, as a form of deterrence. All this for one kid and his spur of the moment act of violence. Of course, one can never get the full story...
Isn’t it amazing how mesmerizing violence has become? Has it always been this way? This shocking night has marked a defining moment in how I view music’s power and my role in helping to end the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. How can one man’s violence be so much more powerful than hundreds using peaceful means? In fact, millions of men and women living in Israel and Palestine live peaceful lives and have no intention to attack or harm the other side. Why should we give more reverence to one man's violent act than we do to the peaceful acts of 300 at a concert, or millions quietly sitting at home? Is this because violence stirs more emotions? Is it because it gets better television ratings? There are those of us who seek other means to stir emotions and have our voices heard.

In this conflict zone, musicians seem to be some of the few people thinking clearly. While there are always exceptions, musicians share an understanding that music is music. We love to make great music. In my three years in Jerusalem, I have been extremely blessed to witness countless musicians come together, despite their political differences. Almost without fail, if two musicians can sit in a room together, they will play together. Music provides an opening, an incentive for an interaction that most of society has prevented. Moreover, musicians hold a unique power to bring their nuclear experience—from within the studio, song-writing session, or even a political dialogue—out into the community. A song created by four Israelis and Palestinians in a small studio in Jerusalem could, potentially, reach millions. A great song could dramatically transform people's understanding of “the other.” It could shake someone to a new awareness of the complexities of the conflict, the suffering of others, the fear, hopes, and love that we all experience. A song can take us where we want to go.
To go a step further, the musician is blessed with the responsibility to be creative. While so many professions demand that we be "practical," musicians are encouraged to reach beyond the limits. Our music can reflect today, take us back to yesterday, and paint pictures of tomorrow. It is our opportunity and responsibility to express ourselves and, if possible, to be a voice for others. Just by attaching our words to a nice melody and a catchy groove, people listen to us, challenge authority, question society, upset the status quo, or offer hope. That is… if we choose to.
Some choose to remain silent. In recent years, and increasingly in the past several months, many international artists have cancelled their concerts in Israel and Palestine. Some are simply afraid of seeming biased in one way or another and have no interest in taking sides—potentially to be labeled as “pro-this” or “anti-that”—unwillingly sucked into the conflict. Others had only planned to perform in Tel Aviv and Ramallah (Palestinian Territory) and were subsequently convinced not to perform for Israeli audiences as long as the Occupation persists. They hope their boycott will help drive Israelis to disrupt the status quo. Perhaps this is an effective method to wake up the Israeli public and force them to push for changes, rather than enjoying a raucous evening of mass opiate music. On the other hand, if an artist cancels his concert in Tel Aviv, he is written off as anti-Israel and joins the litany of people around the world who reinforce the mainstream Israeli mentality that says, “The world is against us. We must fight harder.”
I believe that the strongest approach is to use music to actually effect change. What does that mean? Some artists choose to utilize their music, media power, and their ability to bring people together, to actually bring people together, challenge the status quo of separation and fear, and actually do something for both Israelis and Palestinians. If Elvis Costello or Gil Scott Heron really wanted to help end the Occupation, they could play their concert in Jerusalem to a mixed audience. They could lift us up, speak their minds clearly and openly, and create a space for us to share and experience something positive together. They could set the example for the people here and for the world. As long as Israelis and Palestinians remain separate, the conflict will persist.
Consider this a call to all musicians in the world. Use your music to defy boundaries. Use your music to bring people together, to understand each other, to reflect on where we are and where we should be.
Heartbeat has traveled a fascinating journey in the nearly two years since that first concert. We have brought together over 50 Israeli and Palestinian youth and we have made great music. Through their music, the Heartbeat youth have expressed the brightest and darkest areas of their lives, they have detailed their opinions and experiences in the conflict, they have laughed hysterically, they have deeply offended each other, and most of all, believe it or not, they have built trust. Original recordings are on the way to the public’s ear. Hopefully many people will listen.
We say “The Mic is More Powerful than the Gun” and we believe that one day our motto will become true. In the meantime, we're just working on turning our amplifiers up a little louder, and we hope you are too.
October 26, 2010
*To learn more about Heartbeat Jerusalem, visit their website here. A documentary of Heartbeat Jerusalem can be viewed here. To learn more about Aaron Shneyer, visit his MySpace music site here.
1. See the video, "Jerusalem Journal: Teen Concerts Combat Animosity between Arab and Jewish Youth in Jerusalem Amid Recent Violence," on the New York Times website here.
Responses

What do you make of concerts/programs like Live 8, where musicians from around the world give concerts to raise awareness and funds for a cause that is often so distant from the musician’s reality? Or what about individual musicians/bands that promote a singular cause, again, often far away from their own country and day-to-day interactions? Do they do more harm or good? The intention is there, but…

I appreciate any musician who gets involved and decides to use his/her mass media / popular power for good. Yes, there are plenty of issues that get overlooked, both at home and abroad, but each artist can only focus on what moves her; she can put her energy towards where she feels she can make the most impact. Problems arise when a foreigner comes in and doesn't listen to what the people on the ground want, or somehow disempowers locals from doing more for themselves. As long as an artist truly listens to as many voices as possible and works to support the work of people on the ground, then she can have a meaningful impact.

There is a call for musicians to boycott performing in Israel. The clamor has reached new heights since the Israel raid of the Gaza flotilla in May. Gil-Scott Heron and Elvis Costello, for example, announced their boycotts. In issuing his announcement, Costello said it was sometimes better for musicians to remain silent rather than add to the static surrounding a conflict. Do you agree with the Israel-artist boycott? Is it sometimes better to remain silent in a time of conflict?

Silence is a very loud statement out here. These days artists are rarely boycotting Israeli audiences because of their opposition to Israel's policies, but simply because they are afraid of being dragged into a political nightmare they have little understanding of or connection to. That said, some artists do hold strong opinions and hopes for their boycott. In principal, I respect the call for boycotts, but they completely fail as a tactic against Israel's policies. By boycotting performances for Israeli audiences, it seems these artists (or more accurately, the ones who force them to boycott) hope their boycott will help drive Israelis to disrupt the status quo and end the Occupation. Through their silence they hope to wake up the Israeli public and force them to push for changes, rather than enjoy a raucous evening of mass opiate music. I agree that most Israelis are painfully ignorant of their government's policies and actions and that the status quo cannot continue. I fully support any effort that would inspire Israelis to learn more and take more responsibility for ending the Occupation. However, I doubt that this will happen as a result of the artistic boycott. We are not dealing with South African Apartheid. Central to the Israeli mindset is the belief that the world is against them simply because they are Jewish. Upon learning of these boycotts the vast majority of Israelis (many of whom had never before heard of Elvis Costello or Gil-Scott Heron) interpreted their refusal to play as another case of "the world is against us." The artists are written off as anti-Jewish and people ask, "Are they boycotting China, Russia, or the US for their military policies? Why just Israel?"
Imagine Gil-Scott Heron on stage in Tel Aviv in front of two thousand adoring fans. Before the concert begins he asks the audience, "Let's hold a moment of silence to commemorate all those who've lost their lives in this conflict." He says, "Let's pray that the forces of hate, power, fear and violence cease to control us." He can then hold his two hour concert infusing his audience with whatever opinions he wants. He could say, "Let's remember the Palestinian family that sleeps in the street outside their house tonight in Sheikh Jarrah, while 25 Israeli settlers sleep inside their home." He could say, "Let's remember the 1300 people who died last year in Gaza." If he wants to be more neutral he could just quote himself and say, "You cannot stay home, brother. You can no longer plug in, stay in and cop out." He could make it very clear by saying, "You hold power and responsibility. If you don't work to change the situation, then who will? What will you do?" He could live up to his lifetime of working to empower the masses. Sadly, he chose silence and others put the words in his mouth.
For many artists, directly addressing Israeli-Palestinian politics is no easy step to take. How many foreigners understand the situation here well enough to offer a worthwhile opinion to the locals? Most are confused by the complexities of the conflict and prefer to stay away rather than being branded as pro-one side or the other. Those artists who want to perform on both sides will almost inevitably be boycotted by the Palestinian boycott and divestment campaign, making it nearly impossible to play for Palestinian audiences if they play for Israelis.
Performing artists and public figures are influencing people whether they intend to or not. As they stand on stage or just live their lives they are in the public eye, they are setting an example. What does Gil-Scott Heron or Elvis Costello believe when it comes to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict? Their silence was very loud, but did it say what they truly think? Do they want to see an end to the conflict and the Occupation? Would they like to see a de-segregation of the Israeli and Palestinian communities? What if they held a concert in Jerusalem to bring Israelis and Palestinians together? What if they did songwriting workshops to help empower Heartbeat's Israeli and Palestinian youth musicians? Their music could build trust between the two communities and challenge the fundamental reasons the conflict exists. There are many ways to take a stand. Anytime Gil-Scott Heron, Elvis Costello, or any other artist wants to use their voice to go against the status quo and compel others to do the same, we are ready to work with them.
Moderator's Conclusion
Speaking on the importance of art in a social struggle, the eminent philosopher Cornel West explains that artists use bits of reality in their work to get people to see reality in a new light. "It's about vision by means of imagination," he opines. "It's about empathy in terms of looking through this world and seeing the possibilities of a new world, a better world, a more decent, a more compassionate world."
Art is inseparable from politics. Successful artists (in this case musicians) that emerge from and transcend conflict (of whatever manifestation) do so by empathizing with the pain and suffering of the downtrodden and the afflicted, and then using these experiences to create a powerful musical piece that uplifts heavy souls and aspires to a better world. The four musicians in this roundtable, still young in their musical careers, embody this spirit of empathy and this practice of re-imagination. Each of them seeks to leverage their emotional ties to challenge the oppressed to overcome their torments and to create better realities. They seek, also, to educate the uncaring or the unaware and to move the complacent into action. Ultimately, these musicians seek to lift the spirits of us all into a better world.
With varying backgrounds, each of the musicians here approaches the question, "what is the role of the musician in a conflict zone?" from differing perspectives and offers unique answers to a vexing issue. While Aaron and Obash discuss issues of conflict emanating from the same general region (the Middle East), the realities of Jerusalem and those of Tehran are distinct. Each conflict demands its own attention, and each demands separate approaches. Both speak eloquently of the exasperation they face in their beloved cities of Jerusalem and Tehran, but to think that the role of the musician in each of those conflict zones is similar would be mistaken.
Omékongo, for his part, in speaking about an American inner-city experience and then about the violence of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, is able to transcend continents and conflicts, but his message remains the same: music is the best way to give voice to the voiceless and inspire action. While Omékongo sees music as a vehicle to amplify voices, Sheba hopes that her music will help to provide comfort for the less fortunate. Again, two ways of seeing the power of music and song.
Bob Marley, rightly so, is held to be the standard bearer of the role of a musician in a conflict zone. His lyrics are political. His music transcends cultures. Marley even took to the stage for political causes. The words from his powerful anti-war anthem, "War," remain powerful today:
Until the philosophy which holds one race superior
And another
Inferior
Is finally
And permanently
Discredited
And abandoned,
Everywhere is war*
The difficulty I had during this discussion, however, was in coming up with musicians of Marley's stature. Bono is the only one who comes close. There's no trouble in naming artists in previous decades who played the part of active musicians in times of conflict. Simply mentioning 1960s and '70s rock and folk music conjures an entire catalogue of such artists and bands. Today, efforts like Woodstock 2 and Live 8 pale in comparison to the political and social heft that the likes of Woodstock and its associated musicians brought to the socio-political scene of the United States, an effort that had global reverberations.
Where is the next generation of politically engaged musicians? Where are they in the face of unfolding injustice and violence in places like Iraq, Afghanistan, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Zimbabwe, Burma, Uganda, and a myriad of other places around the world? The answer, of course, is that they are in those very places. They simply lack the amplifiers necessary to get their music heard. Hopefully the participants in this roundtable represent a sample of a new, desperately needed vanguard of politically-motivated musicians. Let freedom sing.
*After this roundtable was published, it was brought to my attention that Bob Marley borrowed the words for "War" from a famous speech given by Ethiopian Emperor Haile Selassie on October 6, 1963 in front of the United Nations. The speech is profound. You can read the full text here, and listen to the full audio here. As an added twist to this discovery, it turns out that Emperor Selassie was a cousin to Sheba, one of our very own roundtable participants. [S.R. 10/26/10]

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