There's great power in music, and with great power should come great responsibility. Music can move us, inform us, galvanise us, excite us, repel us and in some probably too isolated cases, be a real catalyst for change. This is what protest songs, mostly popular in the sixties and early seventies, are all about
: men and women speaking out against what they see as injustices, inequalities or prejudices and trying to change the world's mind through the medium of song. Some of these have of course been massive hits, and some have quietly sunk into the mists of time without making all that much of a mark.
But their intent remains, and although these days we don't really hear too much in the way of protest songs, I'm willing to bet they're still out there, with the world in the shape it is and human frustration and anger growing as tolerance and patience begin to run out, both with our leaders and with the general direction the human race is headed in.
Sun City --- Artists United Against Apartheid --- 1985
Music and Lyrics by Steven Van Zandt
Thankfully the spectre of apartheid has now long vanished, as South Africans try to learn to live in peace, black with white, and with varying degrees of success. As in any such situation where a long-oppressed people are suddenly faced with freedom, old scores get settled and they who were once brothers turn upon each other. Humanity, it would seem, always has to have its divisions and someone must always be the scapegoat for someone else's hatred. But it's getting better, and it's certainly better than it was under the regime of Botha and later De Klerk, when black people were treated not even as second-class citizens, not even really as citizens at all, but more like a lower form of life. Want to see how the Jews were treated in Nazi Germany? You only had to visit Johannesburg or Cape Town or Soweto. A very sad and painful part of human history which we hope is gone forever.
But back in the eighties apartheid was flourishing and with no sign of its end, musicians stepped forward to do what they could. Well, some did. The whole central theme of the song “Sun City” is aimed with a disgusted and accusing finger at the artistes who closed their eyes to the plight of black people in South Africa and played the infamous Sun City. This was a resort in a supposedly free state --- one which was not recognised outside of the country --- to which black people had been forcibly resettled, where artistes more concerned about their profits than justice played in direct contravention of a cultural boycott laid down by the United Nations, in an effort to draw attention to the heinous practice of apartheid and force the South African govenment to rescind their white supremacist policy. Described as “A fantasy island in the middle of Hell”, Sun City was seen as South Africa's defiant two-fingers to the UN and to all those opposed to its policies.
“Miami” Steve Van Zandt, a member of Bruce Springsteen's E Street Band, wanted to highlight the injustices being perpetrated against blacks in South Africa and so together with journalist Danny Schrechter he set about writing and producing the song “Sun City”. To ensure there was maximum exposure --- Van Zandt himself would be largely unknown by other than Springsteen fans --- they invited other musicians and celebrities to join the recording in a sort of reprise of the USA For Africa project “We are the world”, itself a spinoff from Band Aid's “Do they know it's Christmas?” and secured the services not only of Springsteen and saxaphonist Clarence Clemmons, but also Peter Gabriel, Herbie Hancock, Jackson Browne, U2, Ringo Starr, Afrika Bambaata, Hall and Oates, Ronnie Wood and a whole host more.
The song was not a huge hit and indeed many today may not even recognise, remember or even know of it, but personally for me it was the first real experience of the horrors going on in that country, and a wake-up call to my ethics and principles. Truth to tell, the first real impact any sort of apartheid had on me was Peter Gabriel's “Biko”, in 1980, though at that point it was just a song and it wouldn't be until 1987, when I would watch the tragic story of that man as seen through the eyes of journalist Donald Woods in the movie “Cry freedom” that I would really start to get it. Things were not right with the world, and just because these injustices, imprisonments, rapes, tortures and mass killings were happening thousands of miles away did not absolve me of my responsibility to care about them.
“Sun City” may not have had the huge impact it could, perhaps should have, but then there were vested interests working against it. Much money no doubt changed hands on both sides in order for bands and artistes to play that shameful resort, and they surely had friends in high places, among them radio stations and television. I'm not suggesting some big conspiracy theory whereby the sales of the single were blocked or resisted, but at the same time, if something is going to damage your profits and your standing, well, these are the sort of men and women who would not be expected to stand idly by and let that happen.
Nevertheless, the song raised over a million dollars to be used in the building of schools and hospitals for disadvantaged black children, and if it wasn't quite the wellspring of outrage and opposition to apartheid that it could have been, it certainly planted seeds that, only five short years later, came to fruition and led to the dismantling of the system with the release of its staunchest opponent, who went on to become the country's first ever black president. Perhaps the song is something of an anachronism in today's world which is free of the curse of apartheid, but in some ways, though it surely would have happened anyway, this is where that terrible system began to teeter on its pedestal, a little less sure of itself, until finally, inevitably, it fell to the ground in a cloud of dust and a shout of
“Mayibuye i Africa! (Let Africa return)”