Artigo Revisado por pares

A Politics of Empathy: Johnny Cash, the Vietnam War, and the ‘Walking Contradiction’ Myth Dismantled

2013; Taylor & Francis; Volume: 37; Issue: 3 Linguagem: Inglês

10.1080/03007766.2013.798928

ISSN

1740-1712

Autores

Michael Stewart Foley,

Tópico(s)

American Political and Social Dynamics

Resumo

AbstractIn the years since Johnny Cash's death in 2003, popular and scholarly writing has persisted in framing Cash's politics as contradictory—thus seeming to support Kris Kristofferson's line, often assumed to be about Cash: a “walking contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction.” This essay argues that, although Cash may have seemed conflicted in the late 1960s and early 1970s, his political views on Native Americans, prison reform, and the Vietnam War, especially, were remarkably consistent in that they were based not on ideological views as much as on emotion, instinct, and an ability to relate to familial suffering. As a political artist, Cash practiced an uncommon public politics of empathy that appealed to a diverse audience. Notes [1] Richard M. Nixon, letter to Johnny Cash, 2 Feb. 1970, on display at Sotheby's auction of the Johnny and June Carter Cash Estate, New York City, Aug.–Sept. 2004. [2] A partial recording of the White House concert was released on Bootleg Vol. III; Wren reports that Cash told reporters at the White House that “Welfare Cadilac” was “not the kind of song I'd like to do” (CitationWren, Winners 11). In a 1975 interview, Cash said he didn't want to sing “Okie from Muskogee” because it was Merle Haggard's song, and that he didn't want to perform “Welfare Cadilac,” which he'd heard once and did not like (Linderman 154–55); finally, in Cash's Citation1997 autobiography, he's more vague. He claims the song request came in too late, and he just wasn't prepared to sing them, though he implies that, if they had come in on time, he might have refused them anyway (Cash, Cash 211–12). Haggard later sang “Okie from Muskogee” when he performed at the Nixon White House (Nixon Citation539). [3] Wren, Winners 11, 16; Robertson Citation33. In January 1970, Nixon had a 65 per cent approval rating on Vietnam; by 12 April, it was 48 per cent (Gallup Citation2236, 2244). [4] Kris Kristoffersen, “The Pilgrim, Chapter 33,” (1970). Although Cash himself always seemed to think the song was written about him, Kristofferson names ten people about whom the song was written in his introduction to the recording on the Silver Tongued Devil and I record: Chris Gantry, Dennis Hopper, Johnny Cash, Norman Norbert, Funky Donnie Fritts, Billy Swan, Bobby Neuwirth, Jerry Jeff Walker, Paul Siebel, and Ramblin’ Jack Elliott. [5] To the extent that Cash had been studied before his death, the scope had been rather narrow: Danker, “Repertory and Style”, “Country Music”; CitationOrtega; CitationTucker. In addition, see useful segments on Cash in Hemphill 93–102, 232–38; and CitationDawidoff 169–99. Recent biographies include CitationClapp; CitationS. Miller; CitationStreissguth, Johnny Cash; CitationThomson; Turner. [6] Dick Hebdige, Lecture to UCLA Ethnomusicology Department, Apr. 1999 (my thanks to Dick Hebdige for sharing these notes). [7] For more on music, art, and literature as part of the public sphere in which political issues are discussed and debated, see CitationHabermas; CitationFraser. For a good overview of the wider literature on music and politics, see Street, Hague, and Savigny Citation269–285; and CitationStreet, Music and Politics. [8] See, for example, Jasper Citation397–424; CitationGoodwin, Jasper, and Polletta, Passionate Politics, Citation“Emotional Dimensions”; CitationGould. [9]CitationBuckley long ago identified “Home and Family” as one of eight basic themes of country music (200).[10] On “feeling” and “relating,” see also Part VI, “Reasons for Rhymers: Sensibility, Emotion and Country Values,” in CitationLewis, All that Glitters 196–238.[11] Between 1959 and 1968, Cash had only two bona fide hits: Citation“Ring of Fire” (1963) and Citation“Jackson” (1967). Only two albums, both compilations of previously released material, went gold: CitationRing of Fire (1963) and CitationI Walk the Line (1964), the latter of which took three years.[12] The entire performance is captured on CitationJohnny Cash at Madison Square Garden; Silverman concedes that “one cannot know” whether the “dove with claws” line “was a strategy to appeal to many audiences,” and that analyzing Cash's motives “requires speculation” (132–34).[13] I have not found a single quote, from any document or interview attributed to Cash, his managers Saul Holiff and Lou Robin, or anyone at Columbia Records indicating that Cash's alleged straddling on the question of the Vietnam War had anything to do with his concern about audience. On the country music audience and the war, a September 1970 poll showed 55 per cent support for withdrawing from Vietnam by the end of 1971; broken down by region, the country music strongholds of the Midwest and South showed 56 per cent and 49 per cent support, respectively—hardly a significant difference from national attitudes (Gallup 2266–67).[14] Indeed, for a performer who was allegedly so single minded about keeping his diverse audience, he had a funny way of showing it. On television, especially, Cash seemed willing to experiment—and fail publicly—in a way that few artists could match. His public declaration of his faith and, at times, privileging gospel music—moves that his producers blamed for declining ratings—were not the decisions of an artist concerned only with satisfying his audience. On the contrary, he seemed quite willing to lose some of his audience.[15] When radio stations did not play it enough, Cash responded with a full-page in Billboard magazine, criticizing programmers for their lack of guts. Cash's role in the controversy has generally been seen as evidence of his commitment to the folk music revival, its younger audience, and “of the power of music to help rouse a new social movement.” See Silverman (80–85) and CitationD'Ambrosio. On Cash appropriating Indian identity, see Edwards (107–09); on Southerners claiming Indian ancestry, see Martin (Citation129–47) and CitationDeloria.[16]The Johnny Cash Show, 13 May 1970, on CitationBest of the Johnny Cash Show, DVD.[17]The Johnny Cash Show, 6 May 1970; see also Danker (“Country Music” 139–40).[18] Alfred Aronowitz, review of CitationAt Folsom Prison in Life magazine (qtd in CitationStreissguth, Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison, 43).[19] On how the Vietnam era draft made Vietnam a “working-class war,” see CitationAppy; CitationBaskir and Strauss; CitationDavis and Dolbeare. For a longer view of the Selective Service, see CitationFlynn.[20] See CitationFoley (64–65, 141–42, 194, 241); in particular, letters 43, 105, 152, and 201 express sentiment similar to Cash. Letter 201 expresses a heart ache that sounds much like Cash's.[21] Jan Howard later appeared as a guest, with Bill Anderson, on The Johnny Cash Show, 13 Jan. 1971.[22] Edwards (94) sees this song as part of his prison reform oeuvre, emphasizing the abuses that seem ingrained in the prison system. I agree, but my point here is to make the connection with the familial suffering theme present in his Native American and Vietnam-related songs.[23] Hudson (69); I have not viewed the 18 Mar. 1970 episode of The Johnny Cash Show, so it is impossible to describe Cash's presentation of the song or the crowd's response. That the song was performed on that show is recorded by Lewry (Citation79); Robertson (33).[24] On the draft lottery, see Flynn (243).[25] The literature on country music and authenticity is vast and cannot be done justice in this article. See, for example, CitationJensen; on Cash and authenticity, see Edwards (27–33, 43–45, 58–59); Silverman (236–39; and esp. 19–23).

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