One of my mentors here at Brown, renowned conservative-economist-turned-social-activist Glenn C. Loury, frequently debates cultural critic John McWhorter in dialogues about race and politics on Bloggingheads.tv. On Sunday, their conversation turned to hip-hop (the focus of McWhorter’s new book All About the Beat: Why Hip-Hop Can’t Save Black America), Barack Obama, and the effect of each on Black America.

While I applaud Loury’s defense of hip-hop and appreciate McWhorter’s defense of Obama, I take issue with the false dichotomy these scholars have erected between the two. Loury says hip-hop is politically-charged and Barack Obama’s message is destructive; McWhorter says hip-hop is destructive in a way that counters the positive message of Barack Obama. But hip-hop, at its roots, is political, and many of its leaders have long championed Obama’s message and agenda through their words and rhymes. Obama, in kind, has become one of few mainstream voices for the ideology that underlies hip-hop.

“Whether or not he is aware of it, Barack Obama is the first hip-hop presidential candidate,” Latoya Peterson wrote in The American Prospect in February. She explains:

Barack Obama is the hip-hop candidate, not because of his racial identity or his oratory skills, but because his policies and approach to politics demonstrate that he understands the needs and desires of the hip-hop community.

From his experience as a community organizer on the South Side of Chicago to the lasting impact of his strong, single mother to his policy positions, Obama’s very life and message reflect the ideas and inspirations of American hip-hop.

In this interview, Obama praises artists like Jay-Z and Kanye, despite claiming that he’s still an “old school guy.” Obama declares, “I love the art of hip-hop,” even as he sometimes disapproves of its message and material fixation. Finally, Obama infuses his commentary on the art form with his personal message of hope: “Hip-hop is not just a mirror of what is, it should also be a reflection of what can be.” And it often is. For example, Nas’ “If I Ruled the World,” with its litany of those changes Nas would make given the power to do so. Or what about the social commentary–both critique and suggestion–inherent in the works of Mos Def, Lupe Fiasco, Jay-Z, and others who have used their music as a socio-political megaphone?

And the love is mutual. Hip-hop respects Obama back. An up-and-coming hip-hop activist at Connecticut College, Heather Day, directed me to this open letter written by Talib Kweli in February to announce his endorsement of Obama:

Our government could use a new energy. In order for a revolution to happen, you need revolutionary writers, soldiers, teachers, poets, musicians, garbage-men, cab drivers, politicians, across the board. Everyone will not always agree, but the things we agree on, we should strengthen. When I was younger, none of this really mattered. Now I have two beautiful children, and Barack Obama is an incredibly positive influence on them. I want them to know they can be anything they want.

Kweli describes himself as someone who long “felt betrayed by the system” and even stopped voting, “no longer accepting of the lesser of two evils.” He watched Obama’s candidacy from the sidelines and remained distrustful of Obama (and all politicians) for a while before noticing the grassroots base of Obama’s campaign and its emphasis on poverty, civil rights, the environment, and the war. In his track, “Say Something,” Kweli goes so far as to proclaim, “Speak to the people like Barack Obama.”

As early as last August, CNN’s Peter Hamby chronicled the candidate’s relationship with hip-hop. Hamby explains how Obama, nicknamed “B-Rock” by Vibe Magazine, had “managed to capture the imagination of the hip-hop community, comprised mostly of rap artists, music industry professionals, activists and young fans of all races.” He quotes the rapper Common:

He’s fresh, you know, he’s got good style. [...] As far as people in my age group and people that love hip-hop, there’s a love for Obama. He represents progress. He represents what hip-hop is about. Hip-hop is about progress, the struggle.

And, as Latoya Peterson asks:

Obama has positioned himself as the straight-talking community organizer who wants to rise above politics and accomplish real change in the way this country operates. Is it any wonder that hip-hoppers like Common and Talib Kweli have come out in full force for him?

Absolutely not, I say. And our friends across the pond in France seem to agree. So keep defending hip-hop, Professor Loury, and keep defending Obama, Mr. McWhorter. But the two are far from mutually-exclusive. In my opinion, an embrace of both would represent serious progress for racial politics and American politics in general.

This entry was posted You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

RELATED POSTS

• No related posts.