I got a lesson this morning in the nature of justice, art, and history. The radio was on in the apartment. and NPR’s Liane Hansen began to introduce the 1965 hit ballad, “Eve of Destruction.” Ms. Hansen was interviewing the song’s long-forgotten writer, PF Sloan.
The lyrics of “Eve of Destruction” ring true with people of a certain age— and I have to admit to being old enough to feel their power. So does my partner, who welled up with tears, “I can’t believe it’s been all these years and we’re going through this again. It’s so sad,” she said.
Sloan’s youthful lyrics— meant as “a child of America singing to its love of country,” were a powerful condemnation of the hypocrisy of war and its trappings, wrapped thinly around injustice and lies.
The eastern world, it is exploding
Violence flarin’, bullets loadin’
You’re old enough to kill, but not for votin’
You don’t believe in war, but what’s that gun you’re totin’
And even the Jordan River has bodies floatin’
But you tell me
Over and over and over again, my friend
Ah, you don’t believe
We’re on the eve
of destruction.
It’s no accident that Sloan has come back now with a reprise of his hit of forty years ago. His song has continuing relevance in far too many ways. His personal story also has power. Sloan’s comeback is to record again, asserting his own talent to issue a piece that a better-known artist made famous the first time around (Barry McGuire). Sloan’s own journey to recording a fine CD, “Sailover,” (which contains more personal songs as well) required him to overcome depression and his own alienation to reclaim his art. After thirty years away, he found the balance to again make music and the public appearances a new album requires.
While the interview with Sloan is worth a listen (link), it’s the lessons he inspires the second time around that linger with me after the music fades. “Eve of Destruction” still digs at our psyche, of course, because we find ourselves again trapped in a war of aggression in a foreign land, again (aging) children of America, calling our country home. We are once more fighting against power that bends away from the arc of justice.
There were lessons in the 60’s that we probably thought we wouldn’t have to remember half a lifetime later. Some were cruel ones: about the nature of the powerful to protect their turf from the people and about the twisted uses patriotism can be put to. There were the ways we thought we wouldn’t again see employed to silence people whose only crime was to speak out against injustice.
Now there are new lessons to learn as well. One is about the continuous nature of the struggle to create a better world.
Years ago, many people thought change had happened when the Vietnam War was over and became more introspective and lifestyle-centered. It was too easy to miss the realization that even then, the Right was organizing anew, beginning already to rewrite the history of the time. In a moment of seeming defeat after Watergate, those who would again try to concentrate power— and use the violent instruments of the State to maintain it— were working the nuts and bolts of the political machine. They were only a few years from building their careers up under the Reagan Revolution, soon to turn aside years of liberal progress towards a more open society. It wouldn’t be long till they had more power than they’d ever enjoyed during the post WWII period.
Despite the hijacking of American democracy, there is a tendency for good people to believe that there’s an end to politics, a time to leave the public square and tend to their garden, to toast to family and friends and go about the business of everyday life. It’s hard work to constantly stare down the problems of society. It’s also imperceptibly slow work to turn around a violent culture and teach it new ways. We all would like to declare victory at the earliest opportunity and to spend our time on the things we love and enjoy. Personal goals, the comforts of home and the warmth of family are what we want to celebrate at our hearth, not usually primaries and petitions.
Today, as we realize that we must lumber again out of silence to fight the good fight, It’s heartening to remember that there is also joy in coming together to build a community and to celebrate our culture. It’s also possible to celebrate taking back our ideals and dreams. Even though they’re somewhat tarnished, they’re the ones we want to pass on to our children. So we don’t only fight the resurgence of jingoism and violent authoritarianism, but we also celebrate our continuing ability to overcome and build a new town square.
PF Sloan’s revival is a metaphor. Even while coming out of the gardens of personal experience, his music of resistance still has the power to capture our ears. An awakened America is ready to listen again.