Music has the ability to galvanize people into action in a way few mediums can. Jazz music gave a voice to Black Americans bearing the brunt of American social problems in the 1920s, and rock and soul music partly catalyzed young people into taking to the streets for the cultural revolution of the 1960s. Not often brought up in discussions of political music is reggae. Few genres are as inherently radical as reggae, so don’t let the pretty harmonies fool you.
Emerging from Jamaica in the 1960s as the offspring of African rhythmic structures and American jazz and blues, reggae synthesized cultures in the same way Jamaican descendants of enslaved Africans had to culturally merge with their British oppressor. The musical influences of reggae reflect the way dominated peoples have to balance their newly forced-upon identity with their ancestral roots.
Often mistaken for being a simple, feel-good genre or an excuse to blaze up, reggae offered solidarity for those opposing imperialism and colonialism. This can be seen in persistent messaging to resist “Babylon” — a Rastafari word used to describe governments and structures that go against the will of Jah, or God — by artists such as Aswad, Bob Marley and the Wailers.
Peter Tosh, an early member of the Wailers who enjoyed success as a solo artist, brought issues such as apartheid and Pan-Africanism to a global audience. In his song “Equal Rights,” Tosh dismisses the notion that reggae and the Rasta movement was solely nonviolent by singing “I don’t want no peace / I need equal rights and justice.” The same album features him warning, “If you wanna live, live / I beg you treat me good / I’m like a walking razor / Don’t you watch my size / I’m dangerous.” Reggae did pose danger, but to the existing, unjust world order and those who exploited developing nations.
Similar to how reggae combined elements of various cultures, British groups took reggae and integrated it into the punk rock and new wave sound of 1970s Britain. “Rock Against Racism,” a series of festivals founded in 1976, blended reggae, rock and punk in an anti-fascist united front against bigotry and white nationalism.
As both punk and reggae acts felt a racist tide beginning to sweep over Britain, an original genre emerged called “two-tone.” Often having multiethnic makeups, two-tone bands aimed to bring the anti-colonial core of reggae to the British public. The revolutionary spirit of reggae attracted British punk band The Clash, who used dub techniques and had a close professional relationship with innovative reggae producer Lee “Scratch” Perry. Their cover of “Police & Thieves” by Junior Murvin was enough to inspire Bob Marley to write “Punky Reggae Party” in 1977, with direct references to several British punk bands.
The defiance heard in much of Jamaica’s reggae community reflected the will of the island’s peasants and Black residents. Jamaican politics began to reflect the popularity of Rastafari, the chosen religion and lifestyle of many Jamaicans in the 20th century. This is most notable with the rise to power of Michael Manley, the former prime minister of Jamaica. The essence of reggae could be found in Manley’s governance — an anti-imperial leader who notably defied apartheid South Africa and the United States in aiding Cuban forces sent to protect Angolan independence. Reggae transcended music to become a cultural force that demanded respect, similar to how Manley demanded the West start respecting Jamaican sovereignty.
Despite reggae having seemingly disappeared, the opposite is true. Its influence is so deeply embedded in nearly every genre that its musical legacy towers over many other musical movements of the 20th century. Reggaeton is a perfect example — a primarily Latin genre that incorporates reggae and dancehall elements. Some reggaeton artists have taken cultural critiques and arguments of reggae and made it into the nightclub scene. Puerto Rican artist Bad Bunny has consistently advocated for feminism and LGBTQ+ rights, and other reggaeton artists from Puerto Rico helped to inspire the removal of the deeply unpopular Puerto Rican governor in 2019. Although fans of reggae might not find the reggaeton musical style as satisfying, the cultural roots of reggae have been preserved.
Lessons from reggae’s emergence and development could be applicable to help alleviate the condition the American working class finds itself in. Reggae artists took their multiple identities and blended them into a seamless voice. In a time when the American working class is growing more diverse, it is becoming equally divided. Working people from every imaginable background feel as if they do not have a voice. Their differences can be harnessed together in a united front against bigotry, as seen in the case of Jamaica and Britain. Reggae’s blueprint of a diverse choir could be the kryptonite needed to take on America’s Babylon.
Nathan Sommer is a freshman majoring in philosophy, politics and law.