Friday, August 18, 2017

Thoughts on Monuments to the Confederacy

The events in Charlottesville and the ensuing disappointing response from President Trump (which later was doubled down to a frightening defense of the hate-mongers who initiated the violence) have dominated the news in recent days.  No doubt there are some, perhaps many, who once again lay blame on the ‘fake media’ for misinterpreting Trump’s remarks or for whipping the 'libs' into a frenzy on this issue.

The march of the white supremacists and neo-Nazis in Charlottesville was prompted by the prospect of the city taking down a statue of Robert E. Lee.  This poses a question about the general purpose and value of such memorials and whether there is indeed a justification for removing them.

At first blush, one may think that it is foolish to try to erase the past by taking down memorials of Confederate heroes.  Isn't this a part of history and doesn't the south have a right to celebrate its war heroes?

But as I have thought more deeply about the question of civil war memorials and honoring historical events and people, I have come to the conclusion that most of these monuments should indeed come down.  There is of course the danger of trying to ‘purge’ historical memory or rewrite history.  But in reality, the monuments extolling the virtues and heroic efforts of Confederate leaders are the real ‘whitewashing’ of history.

The simple fact is that the primary reason, the casis belli, for the Civil War was slavery.  The Southern nostalgia for the pre-Civil War era and its sentimental regard for confederate soldiers is misplaced at best and a complete delusion at worst.  The ‘lost cause’ was not the genteel way of life that one sees in romantic mythology like ‘Gone With the Wind’ and it was not states’ rights.  The ‘lost cause’ - the primary reason that the south seceded - was to avoid what they saw as the inevitable abolition of slavery were they to stay in the Union.  Pure and simple.

Was it tragic that millions of young men lost their lives and that terrific hardship was visited upon the south?  Of course it was.  Were there heroic men, heroic gestures and heroic sacrifices in the war?  Of course there were.  Just as there were many heroic deeds by German soldiers in World War II.  But do you see monuments and statues in Germany extolling the virtues of their soldiers and the ‘lost cause’ of the third Reich? 

It was a bitter pill to swallow, but the Germans faced up to the fact that the best way the suffering by their own people in WWII could be idealized, memorialized or sanctified was to put up monuments honoring the truly helpless victims – the Jews and the Gypsies and all the others that the Nazis exterminated.  And the best way to honor the suffering and sad loss of so many Germans was to vow to never let hatred, extreme nationalism and prejudice take root again in German culture.


This should have been the approach of the post-Confederacy south – an honest recognition that an immoral embrace of human slavery was the cause of their downfall - not the propagation of a myth about a noble ‘lost cause’ and the tragic destruction of the plantation lifestyle, which quite frankly was only possible because of the horrific enslavement and exploitation of Africans.  Monuments are, to put it simply, not appropriate.

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

A Tribute to Glen Campbell

Glen Campbell died yesterday.  He was 81, but had suffered for a lengthy period with Alzheimer’s.  For many reasons, he inhabits a special place in my musical constellation.

I first became aware of his music when his big trio of hit records crossed over from country to pop – Galveston, Wichita Lineman, Gentle on my Mind.  I was in my rock and roll prime, a high school student with little patience for slick pop songs or overly orchestrated ballads.  So of course I was dismissive of him and his music.  But something in his voice and the songs captured my attention much more acutely than the typical pop song and I found myself furtively seeking out his songs on the radio.

In early 1979 I stopped in Reno for the night with my Mom, who had joined me on my way out to California to report for duty with the USS Seawolf.  She suggested we go to a Vegas-style show with Glen Campbell and I acquiesced, though not particularly eager for what I thought would be a stylized and phony glamour display.

Much to my surprise, for the next three hours I was mesmerized by the talent and energy that this amazing man displayed.  He played the guitar and the banjo with effortless virtuosity and his singing was powerfully melancholic and inspiring.  He performed songs from numerous genres, including a medley of Beach Boy tunes from his days replacing Brian Wilson on one of their tours in the mid-60s.  The range and breadth of his repertoire astounded me.  When he sang his trademark Wichita Lineman, I could feel the aching need and loneliness of every human being in those perfect lines:

 ‘and I need you more than want you, and I want you for all time’

I left that Reno theater with a stunning epiphany.  All my prejudices and pretensions were false!  Glen Campbell was not some glitzy country crooner, but rather a musical genius and he had a much more profound message and impact than I could ever have imagined.  I soon discovered that Glen had been one of the most sought after studio musicians in LA in the 60's and that he was considered one of the era's best and most versatile guitarists before his singing led him to stardom.  I had totally misread him!

But it wasn’t just Glen Campbell that I had been wrong about.  I suddenly realized that the depth I had missed in him was also the depth I was missing in every person I was too smug to learn more about or too busy to engage with.  Not many people have the amazing talents that Glen had, but everyone is deeper and more interesting than we realize – and has more to offer than we are apt to believe.

Last night I listened for hours to youtube videos of Glen’s canon, tearing up as his aching, yearning tenor and flawless guitar filled my heart.  I saw snippets of his farewell tour, when the ravages of his Alzheimer’s had taken much of his mental acuity, but somehow his singing and playing fought through the haze and shone brightly.


I am grateful for the life and music of Glen Campbell, and in debt to him for teaching me an invaluable lesson about people and prejudice.