Pulse of the People

Political Rap Music and Black Politics

Lakeyta M. Bonnette

• Publisher: University of Pennsylvania Press
• Year: 2015
• ISBN:
  9780812291131
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: Radicalism
• Index: Politics & International Relations

Hip-Hop music encompasses an extraordinarily diverse range of approaches to politics. Some rap and Hip-Hop artists engage directly with elections and social justice organizations; others may use their platform to call out discrimination, poverty, sexism, racism, police brutality, and other social ills. In Pulse of the People, Lakeyta M. Bonnette illustrates the ways rap music serves as a vehicle for the expression and advancement of the political thoughts of urban Blacks, a population frequently marginalized in American society and alienated from electoral politics. Pulse of the People lays a foundation for the study of political rap music and public opinion research and demonstrates ways in which political attitudes asserted in the music have been transformed into direct action and behavior of constituents. Bonnette examines the history of rap music and its relationship to and extension from other cultural and political vehicles in Black America, presenting criteria for identifying the specific subgenre of music that is political rap. She complements the statistics of rap music exposure with lyrical analysis of rap songs that espouse Black Nationalist and Black Feminist attitudes. Touching on a number of critical moments in American racial politics—including the 2008 and 2012 elections and the cases of the Jena 6, Troy Davis, and Trayvon Martin— Pulse of the People makes a compelling case for the influence of rap music in the political arena and greatly expands our understanding of the ways political ideologies and public opinion are formed.

Chapter 1

Behind the Music: Black Political Attitudes and Rap Music

By searching too narrowly for signs of political consciousness and revolutionary activity among slaves and freed people, we have missed other manifestations of their group consciousness, sense of pride, and use of their culture to define themselves and comment upon their status.

—Lawrence W. Levine, “African American Music as Resistance,” in African American Music 2006: 587

Uh, one thing ‘bout music
When it hit you feel no pain
White folks say it controls your brain
I know better than that
That’s game and we ready for that

—M1 of Dead Prez, “Hip-Hop,” Let’s Get Free

C’mon baby light my fire
Everything you drop is so tired
Music is supposed to inspire
How come we ain’t gettin no higher?

—Lauryn Hill, “Superstar,” The Mis-Education of Lauryn Hill

In 2005, Chicagoan rap artist Kanye West, one of Hip-Hop’s most defiant and politically incorrect rappers, decided to deviate from the teleprompter before him and instead voice his opinion on live television during a fundraiser for the victims of Hurricane Katrina and the rebuilding of New Orleans. When it was his turn to speak, West publicly stated “George Bush doesn’t like Black people.” The shocking comment caught the co-host of the telethon, Michael Myers, and the producers by surprise. After days of watching Black people in New Orleans wade through filthy water, beg to be saved from their flooded homes, and be referred to as “refugees,” West was simply stating the opinion of many Blacks. From West’s and many other Black Americans’ perspectives, the government could not possibly care about the displacement and agony the victims of hurricane Katrina, residents of New Orleans, experienced, based on its response. West identified former President Bush as the main culprit because he, as the nation’s chief executive, represented the American government. While the lack of efficient government response to its citizens shocked the world, many African Americans viewed the Federal Emergency Management Agency’s inept response as simply another link in the chain of political exclusion, lack of support and disregard experienced by a marginalized community. Even before West made his statement, the slow response had been framed as a racial and class issue. In homes, barbershops, beauty salons, churches, around water coolers, and in other gathering spots the sentiment was that if the disaster had occurred in a city where the majority of residents affected had been white and middle class, the response would have been completely different.¹

West was following a tradition of musicians who used their popularity and celebrity status to speak for those whose voices and concerns are often not considered (Iton 2008). From Scott Joplin to Marvin Gaye to, now, Kanye West, there has been a history of African American celebrities using their notoriety to demand a seat at the political table to advocate against injustice and provide a voice for the voiceless. Billie Holiday’s “Strange Fruit” about lynching of Blacks or Sam Cooke’s “A Change Is Gonna Come” are examples of discussions about the government’s lack of response to African Americans in a time of need. Thus, Blacks have used both overt and covert cultural measures to resist injustice and demand equality.

Many white viewers were shocked to hear West express his discontent with the government’s lack of response to the catastrophe that occurred in New Orleans in the aftermath of hurricane Katrina. West’s words echoed the sentiment not only on behalf of a specific racial and economic group, but also those of a generation that is often viewed as apathetic in terms of political attitudes, ideologies, and participation: the Hip-Hop generation.

It is posited that “Black music may be viewed as a symbolization of the Black experience” (Walker 1975: 2). One can gain an understanding of the various struggles and issues encountered by Blacks throughout their history in America by studying various forms of Black music during different eras. Culture—specifically Black music—historically has been a resistance mechanism that Blacks utilized to assert their visibility in arenas whose majority players deemed them invisible. Blacks have used culture to disseminate information, increase solidarity, fight against injustice, and maintain political and social movements. This is evident in the illegal demonstration by rapper Yasiin Bey, formerly known as Mos Def, outside the 2006 VMAs; he protested, again, the lack of response in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina. Similarly, Marvin Gaye decided to discuss more political issues in his songs, including anti-Vietnam war sentiments and the refusal of Ray Charles to sing in segregated Georgia (Iton 2008; Spence 2011). Culture has allowed those who typically do not have a voice to assert their demands in political and social spheres from which they were typically ostracized. Music in the Black community has always represented a counter-public or as Spence (2011) states, a “parallel public” (9), for ideas and attitudes of this community, and has been significant to resistance struggles for African Americans (Spence 2011; Ogbar 2007; Levine 2006; Norfleet 2006; Harris-Lacewell 2004; Pough 2004a).

From its beginnings in New York, rap has been a vehicle for the young and disenfranchised. Early on it provided dispatches from America’s crumbling inner cities ravaged by crack cocaine, violence, and apathy from elected officials. It has evolved into a multi-billion dollar industry, whose stars accumulate wealth that its pioneers could only have imagined. Rap is used to sell everything from Hillshire Farms meat to sneakers and cars (Ogbar 2007). Yet in 2013, the political and economic circumstances which gave rise to this music genre persist.

Political rap, a subgenre of the larger rap genre, follows the model of uniting African Americans through music by discussing issues relevant to the Black community and providing information about injustices the community members face. Michael Dawson (1999: 322) states, “rap has become an integral part of a grapevine that is constantly critiquing the state of American race relations.” Summarily, the music of the Hip-Hop generation is critical for knowledge, awareness, mobilization, and action. Rap has a future as a political agent. In fact, Gwendolyn Pough (2004: 194) contends that “rap’s ability to move the crowd has the possibility to do more than make them dance; it could very well be used to spark political activism.” However, there is still debate over how much impact music has on the political attitudes of a listener (Henry 1990).

For example, Lester Spence (2011) argues that rap does impact Black political attitudes but not always in the direction proponents of Hip-Hop suggest. Spence argues that there is a relationship between rap consumption and support of Black Nationalist tenets as well as a heightened criticism of the American legal system. He also concludes that those who consume rap are more xenophobic. But Spence’s primary argument is that rap music follows or recreates neoliberal attitudes and not specifically radical attitudes.

Cathy Cohen (2010) finds in her research that exposure to rap music also affects the political attitudes of youth. Specifically, those who are exposed to rap assert more alienation from the political system, but many youth do not think that rap music should be more political.

These analyses are excellent and represent initial examinations of the influence of rap on political attitudes. However, this research does lack a crucial element that will allow political scientists, politicians, and music artists to make a more concrete decision about how much rap music influences political attitudes and that is the differentiation of subgenres of rap music. One cannot discuss rap as if it is a homogeneous genre espousing one set of views and attitudes. Like the Black community, variations within Hip-Hop demand separate analysis. Rap, depending on the song produced and the lyrics created, can have various effects on the political attitudes and behaviors of the Black community. To accurately evaluate whether rap affects specific political ideologies, we must observe the impact of political rap separately.

Politics of Exclusion

Why should we observe culture in the Black community as a possible avenue for influencing political behaviors and attitudes? For many reasons, culture influences the political exclusion and consistent political neglect of certain segments of American society. America is seen as the place where upward mobility, even for the most downtrodden, is absolutely possible. Americans love a “rags to riches” story and revere anyone perceived to have “pulled themselves up by the bootstraps.” Each year, tens of thousands of people come to the United States seeking “The American Dream”—a good job, house in the suburbs, two cars, 2.5 children, vacations once a year to a sandy locale, and complete access to the political system. It goes without saying that many people, native and immigrant, find a different reality. Historically, certain groups (Blacks, women, gays, Catholics, Germans, Irish, etc.) have been excluded from politics in the United States, often in opposition to the pluralist paradigm that everyone has equal access to the government. In fact, many have supported this claim of pluralism and full political incorporation for all U.S. citizens (Dahl 1961; Browning, Marshall, and Tabb 2003).

Both pluralist and coalition theories assert that all citizens are able to participate in the political system and be heard (Dahl 1961). Dahl contends that decision making and power are not relegated only to the economic notables, but that the democratic political system is a two-step decision-making process where officials can be held accountable to citizens. Browning, Marshall, and Tabb (2003) assert coalition theory as an alternative method to ensure political inclusion of marginalized voices. They argue that forming coalitions of minority groups with majority groups can ensure political considerations of those often not included in formal politics. Yet pluralism and coalition building are often rejected as theories of inclusion of minorities into the political system (Schnattsneider 1960; Bachrach and Baratz 1962). The pluralist theory is problematic because it does not take into account the lack of focus on issues that affect minority communities, and coalition building has been criticized as continued suppression of minority voices even among participants of political coalitions.

Hence, the political process is not as democratic and open as pluralists would contend. Pluralist theory asserts that everyone has equal opportunity to participate politically and have their issue represented in the political agenda of this country (Dahl 1961). But pluralism does not work for all communities, and those that comprise minority and lower class communities are often excluded from the traditional political world due to a lack of resources or knowledge of how to participate (Schnattsneider 1960; Bachrach and Baratz 1962).

Despite a growing Black middle class, many young people in urban areas have seen a decline in their communities rather than improvement. Older generations have ridiculed them, (e.g., Bill Cosby and Stanley Crouch) and taught them that no one cares about their voices (Cohen 2010). They are left with outlets such as rap to express their angst, anger, and disappointment at being left behind. This secondary marginalization makes it difficult to understand or identify the dominant problems of this segment of the Black community.²

Often, issues that resonate with the larger Black community are also issues of the Hip-Hop generation in general or Black youth in particular. Black youth have concerns about many moral issues including abortions, same-sex marriages and relationships, denigration of Black women, violence, and crime. However, according to Cohen (2010), Black youth suffer greater political alienation than youth of other races. Rarely do we analyze arenas where some of these concerns may be asserted by and about Black youth specifically.

Artists use music and culture as a means to detail the political neglect their marginalized communities experience. In contrast, marginalization gives mainstream America a reason not to listen to their voices. In fact, “members of marginal groups, even when granted the power of speech, find their voices devalued or disrespected, increasing their isolation and alienation from the public sphere” (Hancock 2004, 4). Indeed, the form of devaluation Hancock describes is prevalent in rap music as observed by the numerous attempts to censor rap as well as deem it as an illogical, turbulent, and nihilistic musical form. Two prominent examples in rap music’s history demonstrate the use of censorship in the genre. The first is the banning of record sales for the Florida rap group 2 Live Crew, whose sales were banned for obscenity, and the second is the censoring and banning of Ice T.’s “Cop Killer,” calling for parental advisory labels (Crenshaw 1991b; Johnson, Jackson, and Gatto 1995; Johnson, Trawalter, and Dovidio 2000; Rubin, West, and Mitchell 2001; Carpentier, Knobloch, and Zillmann 2003).

Looking more closely at the 2 Live Crew charges of obscenity, one can identify racial implications as well as the further silencing of marginalized voices. As Crenshaw (1991b) argues, 2 Live Crew’s songs were not the only popular culture acts that suggested or lyrically presented lewd, lascivious, obscene, violent, or sexual acts and ideas. Yet they were the ones to face prosecution and be linked to sexual violence throughout the nation.³ While most of their songs are not political by the criteria to be established in this book, the action taken by law enforcement and state politicians made the album and the case highly political, as it was believed to threaten freedom of expression.⁴ One can observe a number of popular artists during this time (e.g., Madonna and George Michael), as well as a growing pornography industry that display a variety of sexual acts which could all have been deemed obscene. But Crenshaw (1991b) argues that what made Hip-Hop artists unique in their received charges was not specifically their lyrics or performances but a combination of all those things and fear of Black male hypersexuality that has roots in stereotypes of Black male and female sexual prowess and sexual appetite. Crenshaw argues that the prosecution of these artists was based not simply on obscenity but on White fear of the “Black Brute.” Instead of criminalizing this group and rap music in general, we, as a nation should have observed the roots of sexual violence and disrespect of woman and Black women, specifically, historically in this country.

Thus, instead of allowing rap music to represent the voices of those who are oppressed, alienated, and marginalized, we group the entire genre as negative, violent, inaccurate, and a minstrelesque depiction of African Americans. While negative, stereotypical characterizations are typical images of Blacks presented in mainstream media outlets, political rap music acts as a counter-public for presenting alternative images. All rap music is not bad.

Importance of Black Counter-Publics

Safe spaces or counter-publics are important among marginalized individuals because they allow usually voiceless elements of society to assert their voices. There are numerous examples of Black people using safe places such as the church and the coded language of music to avoid retaliation from those who seek to oppress them. The church was first recognized as a safe space during the period of American slavery because it was the one place White people had no interest in monitoring (at least until the Nat Turner rebellion). In fact, it was assumed that church service during this time encouraged enslaved Africans to be content with their lot in life. Instead, church time was often used as a cover to discuss issues within the Black community that were not and could not be addressed by the plantation owners, to create laws, establish relationships, and validate each other’s visibility and value, and to plan actions of rebellion and escape. The Black church has continued to represent a safe space for African Americans throughout various resistance movements in the U.S. One of the most prominent uses of the church as a safe space was during the Civil Rights Movement. Churches were often used as meeting locations to discuss plans of resistance, spread community information of injustices, murders, kidnappings, births, and weddings, and serve as a place of motivation and worship.

While safe spaces existed, there was a racial connection that kept the spaces private and the language coded. The shared experiences of oppression and discrimination morphed into a phenomenon commonly referred to as “the Black exper...