The Chris Moeller Archives

"I continued singing, and I expect I always will." -- Pete Seeger, before Congress, 1955

If I had one moment of bravery in my life to match this one (must read) that Pete Seeger had, the world could simply kiss my ass. In 1955, before the House Un-American Activities Committee-- a mockery of political theater that was itself un-American-- Pete stood up for his friends, and for all of us. Others named names. Braver than those pleaded the Fifth. Pete pleaded the First.

Because of the resulting blacklisting, history has re-written the story of how popular his musical group, the Weavers, actually were during those first years that followed World War II and welcomed the Cold War. The musicians were not only banned from radio, from TV during its infancy, and from recording contracts, but the government even threatened night-club owners that considered booking the group. The blacklisting of Pete Seeger lasted for two decades, and then only chilled after that. Tom and Dick Smothers deserve credit for putting Seeger on their prime-time television show during the explosive summer of 1968. Pete had not been chastened by time. On the Smothers Brothers program, he performed “Waist Deep in the Big Muddy,” a folk song with a biting allegorical message about the Vietnam War.

Pete's songs were not Pete's songs. They belonged to everybody. He introduced a few and revived most. His were in the folk tradition-- traditional blues and union songs, staples of the community hoedown, the family porch, and the Little Red Songbook. I saw the man perform at Jazz Fest in New Orleans the week of his 90th birthday. He was on stage with his grandson. As all Seeger concerts were at some point, this one was a sing-a-long.

It’s ironic that he became blacklisted for having been a member of the “Party”—the Communist Party, because throughout his life, he was one of the few that always put principles above any political party, whether it be Communist, Democrat, or otherwise. There aren’t many genuine revolutionary heroes out there, but Pete Seeger was one of them. Like Gene Debs before him, he experienced the revolutionary's pivotal moment, the one where he or she chooses prison over collaboration. Pete Seeger was cut from the same cloth as Debs, and off the top of my head I can't think of a greater compliment. He was a man of colossal principle and morality. R.I.P. Comrade.

posted by CM @ 8:15 PM