“The war between the haves and have-nots continues to rage, as it has for the past several thousand years, as it will until there’s sanity in the world, or there’s no world left.”
David Rovics, Return
Contemporary troubadour, David Rovics, is a prolific, topical singer/songwriter with an astute analytical mind and compassionate spirit. One recurring theme throughout his extensive repertoire of inspiring stories about historical and current events is how people have built community through solidarity and courageous resistance to the widespread practices of state terrorism around the globe.
David is an engaging storyteller and political satirist in song and in person. On more than one occasion, his stories, combined with his passionate guitar style, have resonated so deep within me that I’ve teared up. Yet, I can assure you, I was not left wallowing in despair. To the contrary, his songs are an anarchic antidote to despair because they help to keep the inspiration flowing to resist all forms of domination. In his 2001 tune, ‘Behind the Barricades,’ he sings: As the movement grows there will be hills and bends—But at the center of the struggle are your lovers and your friends—The more we hold each other up the less we can be swayed—Here’s to love and solidarity and a kiss behind the barricades.
Since October 2023, David has produced numerous compelling songs “to bear witness to the genocide of Palestinians,” such as the poignant and deeply ironic, ‘Just Like the Nazis Did’: After so many decades of patronage by the world’s greatest empire—After so many potential agreements, were rejected by opening fire—After crushing so many uprisings, now they’re making their ultimate bid—Pursuing their Final Solution, Just Like the Nazis Did. Another recent tune, ‘Anti-Semite,’ challenges the all-too-frequent pejorative responses—and currently punitive assaults being implemented under the Trump regime—to those who advocate for Palestinian rights in the face of the Israeli government’s aggression: If you are a fan of democracy, if you have a problem with state theocracy—You don’t like invading armies bent on thievery, if you think it’s wrong to steal someone’s country, there’s only one explanation—Though it may be getting trite—You must be an anti-semite. David, who is a secular Jew, refuses to accept the idea that criticism of the Israeli state’s aggression is anti-semitic.
There are some parallels in those lyrics to Trump’s recently implemented tariff war—and his threat to make Canada the 51st American state—which have caused many folks north of the 49th parallel to defend this country’s sovereignty. Yet, if we shift the lens slightly, it is humbling to remember and acknowledge how this nation state—Oh Canada, our home ON Native land—was also established through the genocidal colonization of hundreds of Indigenous peoples.
Gleaned from his impressive archive of musical compositions—accessible for free at www.davidrovics.com and most platforms—it’s evident that David has been periodically documenting the plight of Palestinians, as well as similar struggles of colonized people on several continents—including Indigenous Land Defenders in North America—from at least the turn of the century. For example, in ‘Jenin’ (2002) he imagines what tragic circumstances might motivate someone to become a suicide bomber while ‘They’re Building a Wall’ (2004) lyrically deconstructs the Israeli government’s “circuitous monstrosity of apartheid that snakes throughout the West Bank” and offers a glimpse of how it could all be so different.
With regard to Indigenous solidarity, David has participated in (and written songs about) both the 2001 Dineh/Navajo action at ‘Big Mountain’ (aka Black Mesa) to block the proposed expansion of a coal mine on their traditional territories and, similarly, has stood with the Sioux at ‘Standing Rock’ in 2017 who were defending their source of drinking water from the construction of an oil pipeline. Several years later, he composed ‘When This Fertile Valley Was Stolen’ to acknowledge how the Willamette River Valley of Western Oregon, where Portland is situated and where David resides, was stolen from the Clackamas, Cowlitz and other Indigenous peoples.
Then, in 2020 he powerfully recalls in ‘Wet’su’wet’en’: This morning I heard the newscaster say, there are no trains running across Canada today. This song references the stunningly effective ‘Shut Down Canada’ direct actions of solidarity with the Wet’suwet’en land defenders in so-called British Columbia in their rejection of pipelines crossing their sovereign traditional territory. As David’s first stanza describes the situation: Way up north, on unceded land, lives a people called the Wet’suwet’en Band—They’ve been there forever, no plans to go elsewhere—After years in the courts, the courts said the land was theirs—But when billions of dollars of toxic gas, has to get to the coast with a pipeline to pass, through Wet’suwet’en land, then the wheels have been greased—Court rulings don’t matter, just send in armed police.
Closer to our home in the Comox Valley, one of his many labour-oriented tunes, ‘Song for Ginger Goodwin,’ tells the story of the miner and socialist labour organizer active in Cumberland and the BC interior during the early 1900s who also resisted conscription and refused to fight in World War One. For these subversively principled actions, Ginger Goodwin was eventually murdered—shot in the back—by a bounty hunter.
David Rovics’ concert here is part of his current Make the Planet Earth Great Again world tour. It is presented by Denman4Palestine to make the connection between the people of Palestine and the anti-colonial struggles of Indigenous peoples in our own backyard. To demonstrate that affinity, it is a fundraiser for the Sla-Dai-Aich Rest & Recovery Network. The latter community group supports Indigenous land and water defenders by providing them with healing retreats on the rock.
Beverages, and sweet and savory snacks for people of all dietary persuasions, will be available for purchase at the event Saturday, April 26, Doors 7 pm, $10 – $30 sliding scale.
