Harmonising Change: Music, Communication and Social Justice

        Throughout history there have been many instances of the creative arts, namely music, being used as the driving force behind many a socio-political movement and as part of a vehicle that incites people to effect change. A vehicle that enables people to begin to define, or redefine, the kind of lives they want to live and, in some ways, the kind of nation they want to be a part of. Indeed, there are many incidences where art has intersected with political activism, from the more recent protests and uprisings of North Africa, Cairo, to the yesteryears of South Africa during the apartheid (“Cape to Cairo”, as it were). This has existed as a broad phenomenon throughout the world, including the American civil rights movement of the 1960s where artists such as Nina Simone stood at the forefront against the gross injustices perpetuated by the United States of America at the time. In Loudermilk’s (2013) journal article titled “Nina Simone & the Civil Rights Movement: Protest at Her Piano, Audience at Her Feet”, Simone is described by her fans as the essence of blackness: 

        “Regal queen reincarnate,” says her fan club founder (Nathan, 45). She’s been tagged ebony, mahogany, and obsidian. A Life reviewer exoticizes her music as “jungle jazz” (Goldman, 11) while a poet’s tribute calls her “Witch Doctor Lady” (White, 22). Her eyes are ancient, declares another poet, “Done seen and survived slavery eyes” (Ya Salaam qtd. in Tsuruta, 54). A fan at SeeingBlack.com considers her “the spiritual essence of three generations of freedom fighters” with a voice that “embodies the pain and power of the scattered African diaspora,…summon[ing] the spirits of the middle passage, of those under the overseer’s lash, of that charred fruit hanging from southern trees” (Neal). He states: “Simone’s presence as a dark-skinned black woman was so powerful that she seemed to embody not only blackness but, as well, the whole history of injustice against blacks in the United States.” (Loudermilk 2013:122)

        And in my own master’s dissertation titled “The exploration of the dynamics of the South African Indie music scene through an auto-ethnographic account of the making and marketing of my debut album, Becoming” I open my fifth chapter titled “An Imperfect Cadence” on a famous quote by Simone, attributed to her 1969 Mount Morris Park performance: 

        “Are you ready to change yourself? – You know what I’m talking about. Are you ready to go inside yourself and change yourself?” – Nina Simone (Light 2016:3) 

        These were the words called out by pianist and activist Nina Simone before her final performance at Mount Morris Park, New York 1969 – a recitation of a battle cry and poem by David Nelson called “Are you ready, Black People?” 

        This short quote and incident narrated at the beginning of Simone’s biography briefly highlights the racial relations, tensions and Simone’s defiance and resilience as a black female performer in a segregated America. I use this anecdote to highlight her determination to live and thrive as a performer despite a grossly unfair system. This is a character trait that musicians and creatives alike can all emulate, one that seems necessary for independent artists to keep at it – to survive. As Light recalls, “her fight for acceptance had to do with her race, no question, but also with her uncompromising aesthetic and personality” (Light, 2016:14). Simone’s life work was not to single-handedly change or cure American society, but rather to expose the inequalities embedded in it. As she herself mentions:

        “I am just one of the people who is sick of the social order, sick of the establishment, sick to my soul of it all. To me, America’s society is nothing but a cancer, and it must be exposed before it can be cured. I am not the doctor to cure it. All I can do is expose the sickness.” (Simone in Proudly Afrikan, n.d.).

        Though I have started this article by mentioning Nina Simone and some of the socio-political injustices of the global North, I intend to bring this discussion closer to home as there are many examples of music as a voice for social justice on my African continent. Two of these I would like to discuss in further detail. I am to explore social justice communication through music by means of these examples starting from the premise my aforementioned thesis is founded upon. And that is: “Music as a communicative praxis”. This theoretical framework has long been substantiated by the works of Simon Frith, Tia DeNora to name but a few (both of whom I have referenced in my own work).  

        In an article titled “Whose Music, Whose Country? Music, Mobilization, and Social Change in North Africa”, its author, Robertson states the general idea posed by Frith, which is that  “Music has long been documented as a means through which to manage personal, social, and cultural identities (Frith 1996 in Robertson 2015). Frith takes an approach that places emphasis on how music constructs the people and how they derive their own meanings through their experiences of popular music. He says, “The question we should be asking is not what does popular music reveal about ‘the people’ but how does it construct them” (Frith, 2007:261). Frith continues to state that “music can stand for, symbolize and offer the immediate experience of collective identity. Other cultural forms – painting, literature, design – can articulate and show off shared values and pride, but only music can make you feel them” (Frith, 2007:264). 

        This reiterates that music, at its very core, is a communicative praxis – one that amplifies messages, mobilizes communities and inspires change.

        To quote Frith; “music gives us a way of being in the world, a way of making sense of it: musical response is, by its nature, a process of musical identification; aesthetic response is, by its nature, an ethical agreement” (Frith, 1998:272). This quote demonstrates to us how the communicative nature of music provides a context through which people can experience themselves and the world around. 

        This would be no different for what we can consider as protest music. As seen in the first example I wish to discuss, of North Africa, Robertson states: “Social change began to rapidly emerge in many North African states in 2011 and 2012, and this process continues today. Music has been embedded within this process from the beginning and has been a key feature in street protests and expressing group identity that opposed the status quo at the time.” (Robertson 2015:66)

        Robertson writes: “As the events of the January 25 Revolution in Cairo unfolded in early 2011, with the constant coverage on official world news networks and on social media, it was clear that a momentous social change was occurring. Another easily observed occurrence was the near-constant sound of music: protesters singing and skilled musicians performing on makeshift stages in Tahrir Square. (Robertson 2015:67) He adds: “Graffiti, on the other hand, was used in the regions to express frustration with the regime. It, along with its association with hip hop music, break-dancing, and flash mobs, and the rise of youth anger, was well documented by Al-Jazeera” (LeVine 2011).

        In this example, we can so clearly see how music and the creative arts stirred the people of Egypt and surrounding countries to make a change. Which ultimately resulted in the ousting of some political leaders. Of course, these changes were not solely due to music or the creative arts but through this we see how the creative arts became a voice that facilitated that change. What this shows us is the way in which the creative arts interacts with hegemonic power structures. Furthermore, it brings to light the relationship between musical activity and identity politics, memories, emotions and social behaviour.  

        Although music may not hold sole responsibility or take full credit of bringing about change, what it does is provide a space for people to express themselves, and, to quote Simone once more, “to reflect the times” and circumstances people are living in. 

        As a post-apartheid South African, I too am not new to this phenomenon. In fact, the creative arts and protest music in South Africa predates the example of North Africa. One cannot mention South African jazz without referencing it as, and I quote, “a multidimensional social and sound world that exists simultaneously on multiple levels as: a field of production; a set of compositional, performance, listening, and other “musicking” practices; a body of compositions, recordings, writings, and images; a product of, and response to, race capitalism and its historical, political and social effects; a record of colonial and apartheid oppression and the resistance it engendered; a space of imagination, memory, and amnesia.” (Ramanna 2016:7)

        During the fight against apartheid, music played a crucial role in the eventual reform of the South African government as it served as a means of expressing the gross injustices of the apartheid. It is the music of the likes of trumpeter Hugh Masekela, singers Miriam Makeba and Letta Mbulu to name but a few, whose music was the backdrop in the transition from apartheid to democracy. 

        As Manuel (2023) notes, in songs such as “Senzeni Na?” by Mbulu, meaning “what have we done?” the question or phrase “What have we done?” is emphatically repeated over and over as a question with a double meaning, that is: “What have we done to deserve this?” but also, “What have we done to fight this oppression? and what more should we do?” (Manuel, 2023)

        The current South African national anthem, ‘Nkosi Sikelel’ Afrika,’ which was banned during the apartheid due to its association with the ANC (the current ruling party), became a symbol of the liberation movement as it was frequently sung as an act of defiance against the regime at anti-apartheid meetings and demonstrations. (Manuel, 2023) 

        Music provided a space in which people could not only express themselves, but could collectively dream and move through conflict and division in reimaging a better life for themselves. One that is fair and inclusive.

        There are a plethora of examples where music is used as a communicative praxis to highlight social injustices. Even more recent examples include global Afrobeat superstar “Burna Boy’s”  heartfelt song titled  ’20 10 20′, which references the date of the tragic events in Lekki, Nigeria, where security forces fired on a peaceful crowd protesting police brutality by the Special Anti-Robbery Squad (SARS) (Pareles et al., 2020). And an even more recent development includes new music in the works Delaina Dixon from Ebony Entertainment reported that The Fugees (made up of Lauryn Hill, Wyclef Jean and Pras Michel) are currently working on their first album together in 28 years and Wyclef Jean predicts that the music “will not be pretty.” Jean states: “We just create tunes, things that are relevant to the time—we are going through a tough time, right? So I’m sure the music is not gonna be pretty,” (Dixon, 2024).

        Indeed, if music is meant to “reflect the times’ as it were, then musicians all across the globe have fervently risen to the occasion. From poignant protest songs to stirring anthems of solidarity, artists are channelling their creativity towards addressing pressing issues, offering hope and inciting change. 

        In summary, music and communication are not merely just accompanying forces but are essential drivers in the pursuit of a fairer and more inclusive world. They create a shared space where communities can unite rather than divide, and play a crucial role in shaping and redefining our collective response to the challenges we may face.