Had he survived the cancer that decimated his body and
plucked him from this earth prematurely at age 36, Bob Marley would have turned
67 years old today. He dedicated his
short life to fighting to bring about the change he wished to see in his native
Jamaica
and ultimately the world. His lyric and delivery
is inescapable and haunting.
The tragedy of Bob Marley is not only that his voice was silenced too soon, but moreover that he isn’t remembered for what he truly was – a revolutionary. He chose music over violence as a vehicle to affect change and in a world devoid of the ability to see past the surface, the underlying theme of his life’s struggle is too often lost. Years after Marley’s death, Dave Thompson, a writer more eloquent than I wrote:
"The machine has utterly emasculated Marley. Gone from the public record is the ghetto kid who dreamed of Che Guevara and the Black Panthers; who believed in freedom; and the fighting which it necessitated; whose heroes were James Brown and Muhammad Ali; whose God was Ras Tafari and whose sacrament was marijuana. Instead, Bob Marley today is smiling benevolence, a shining sun, a waving palm tree, and a string of hits which tumble out of polite radio like candy from a gumball machine. Bob Marley was worth far more."
I’m not religious and certainly don’t pretend to fully grasp the tenets of Rastafarianism but if those beliefs produce the level of understanding of the human condition that Marley possessed then maybe we should all convert. So he got high. Who cares? I’ll expound on my theory on why all drugs should be legalized sometime later but if all you think of when you hear his music is smoking a fat bowl you’re missing the point. The fact that he smoked should be no more an indictment of his character than the fact that I like a good steak should be an indictment of mine – neither says a damn thing about the person.
I don’t have the frame of reference to understand the hardship of growing up in Nine Mile, Jamaica but Them Belly Full is still in heavy rotation on my iPod. It resonated with me, a white kid who grew up in Mississippi, and still does. That was / is the power of his music and message. It’s as impacting now as it was the first time I heard it and it’s still relevant. Though this is an overused statement made about far too many musicians, his music truly transcends the passage of time.
On the way to work this morning I listened to what I’ve always thought to be his seminal work, War. The song is perceived to be about actual bleeding and killing war and it is, but there is a deeper metaphor to be found within. The war that I see and hear in this song isn’t one that is waged on a battlefield; it’s the war within ourselves that we sometimes knowingly but more often unknowingly engage in everyday. The war that Marley writes about is what we feel. What leaves a deeper scar on a society than the battle is the idea that killing one’s enemy in the name of an ideology will solve the problem, whatever we perceive the problem to be. What murders the soul of our humanity is our collective inability to contemplate any other alternative for fear of being labeled unpatriotic. It’s our collective lack of understanding that ensures that war will always exist.
I’m not naïve enough to believe or even allow myself to hope that war will ever end completely and yes in some scenarios it’s not only unavoidable but necessary. But if I say that Afghanistan isn’t one of those scenarios, does that mean I don’t want the US to kick their ass? If I say this is the wrong war, does that mean that I’m for the other side? If I say bring our troops home as soon as possible, does that mean I don’t fully support every single soldier that is on the ground right now? The answer is a resounding no to all of these questions. Then why do I feel somehow guilty for saying it out loud? One answer is because I’ve known at least one, and sometimes several dudes who have been in harm’s way in one war or another it seems constantly since the early 1990’s. Another answer is that I don’t want my friends who have strapped up to think I don’t support their success, respect their sacrifice and hope for their safe return. And yet another answer would be that maybe I too have been sucked in by the propaganda vacuum that exists in this country as a defense against the chaos that would ensue by upsetting the herd. It could be that the same machine has made me doubt my own convictions – has made me question my deeply held, life-long anti-war position.
I readily acknowledge the pipe dream nature of these convictions but I stand behind my belief that war only creates more war – and it never brings about any lasting peace. Rather than get bogged down in the futility of that idea, I choose to hear the significance of the message that Marley delivers. I choose to attempt to be a part of the vision that he had for this world. I choose to believe in true equality, in true freedom and true justice – not just the stylized, clichéd catch phrases that these principles have become. I choose to not be a part of the problem by allowing myself to fall into the trap of racial or cultural superiority. I hold no illusion that these choices will appreciably alter the collision course this world is on with itself, but if we all made those choices and honestly committed to them, it might. I think that is what he was trying to say all along and why I think this world would be a better place if Bob Marley was still in it.
Read his words. Let them marinate. Allow yourself to hear what he was saying.
The tragedy of Bob Marley is not only that his voice was silenced too soon, but moreover that he isn’t remembered for what he truly was – a revolutionary. He chose music over violence as a vehicle to affect change and in a world devoid of the ability to see past the surface, the underlying theme of his life’s struggle is too often lost. Years after Marley’s death, Dave Thompson, a writer more eloquent than I wrote:
"The machine has utterly emasculated Marley. Gone from the public record is the ghetto kid who dreamed of Che Guevara and the Black Panthers; who believed in freedom; and the fighting which it necessitated; whose heroes were James Brown and Muhammad Ali; whose God was Ras Tafari and whose sacrament was marijuana. Instead, Bob Marley today is smiling benevolence, a shining sun, a waving palm tree, and a string of hits which tumble out of polite radio like candy from a gumball machine. Bob Marley was worth far more."
I’m not religious and certainly don’t pretend to fully grasp the tenets of Rastafarianism but if those beliefs produce the level of understanding of the human condition that Marley possessed then maybe we should all convert. So he got high. Who cares? I’ll expound on my theory on why all drugs should be legalized sometime later but if all you think of when you hear his music is smoking a fat bowl you’re missing the point. The fact that he smoked should be no more an indictment of his character than the fact that I like a good steak should be an indictment of mine – neither says a damn thing about the person.
I don’t have the frame of reference to understand the hardship of growing up in Nine Mile, Jamaica but Them Belly Full is still in heavy rotation on my iPod. It resonated with me, a white kid who grew up in Mississippi, and still does. That was / is the power of his music and message. It’s as impacting now as it was the first time I heard it and it’s still relevant. Though this is an overused statement made about far too many musicians, his music truly transcends the passage of time.
On the way to work this morning I listened to what I’ve always thought to be his seminal work, War. The song is perceived to be about actual bleeding and killing war and it is, but there is a deeper metaphor to be found within. The war that I see and hear in this song isn’t one that is waged on a battlefield; it’s the war within ourselves that we sometimes knowingly but more often unknowingly engage in everyday. The war that Marley writes about is what we feel. What leaves a deeper scar on a society than the battle is the idea that killing one’s enemy in the name of an ideology will solve the problem, whatever we perceive the problem to be. What murders the soul of our humanity is our collective inability to contemplate any other alternative for fear of being labeled unpatriotic. It’s our collective lack of understanding that ensures that war will always exist.
I’m not naïve enough to believe or even allow myself to hope that war will ever end completely and yes in some scenarios it’s not only unavoidable but necessary. But if I say that Afghanistan isn’t one of those scenarios, does that mean I don’t want the US to kick their ass? If I say this is the wrong war, does that mean that I’m for the other side? If I say bring our troops home as soon as possible, does that mean I don’t fully support every single soldier that is on the ground right now? The answer is a resounding no to all of these questions. Then why do I feel somehow guilty for saying it out loud? One answer is because I’ve known at least one, and sometimes several dudes who have been in harm’s way in one war or another it seems constantly since the early 1990’s. Another answer is that I don’t want my friends who have strapped up to think I don’t support their success, respect their sacrifice and hope for their safe return. And yet another answer would be that maybe I too have been sucked in by the propaganda vacuum that exists in this country as a defense against the chaos that would ensue by upsetting the herd. It could be that the same machine has made me doubt my own convictions – has made me question my deeply held, life-long anti-war position.
I readily acknowledge the pipe dream nature of these convictions but I stand behind my belief that war only creates more war – and it never brings about any lasting peace. Rather than get bogged down in the futility of that idea, I choose to hear the significance of the message that Marley delivers. I choose to attempt to be a part of the vision that he had for this world. I choose to believe in true equality, in true freedom and true justice – not just the stylized, clichéd catch phrases that these principles have become. I choose to not be a part of the problem by allowing myself to fall into the trap of racial or cultural superiority. I hold no illusion that these choices will appreciably alter the collision course this world is on with itself, but if we all made those choices and honestly committed to them, it might. I think that is what he was trying to say all along and why I think this world would be a better place if Bob Marley was still in it.
Read his words. Let them marinate. Allow yourself to hear what he was saying.
War
Until the philosophy which hold one race superior
and another
inferior
Is finally
and permanently
discredited
and abandoned –
Everywhere is war – me say war.
That until there are no longer
first class and second class citizens of any nation.
Until the colour of a man's skin
is of no more significance than the colour of his eyes –
Me say war.
That until the basic human rights
are equally guaranteed to all,
Without regard to race –
Dis a war.
That until that day
the dream of lasting peace,
World citizenship
Rule of international morality
Will remain but a fleeting illusion to be
pursued –
but never attained –
Now everywhere is war.
Until the philosophy which hold one race superior
and another
inferior
Is finally
and permanently
discredited
and abandoned –
Everywhere is war – me say war.
That until there are no longer
first class and second class citizens of any nation.
Until the colour of a man's skin
is of no more significance than the colour of his eyes –
Me say war.
That until the basic human rights
are equally guaranteed to all,
Without regard to race –
Dis a war.
That until that day
the dream of lasting peace,
World citizenship
Rule of international morality
Will remain but a fleeting illusion to be
pursued –
but never attained –
Now everywhere is war.
Robert Nesta Marley
6 February 1945 –
11 May 1981
