--
Kevin Shimmin
The room suddenly filled with heavy bass,
screaming guitars, pounding drums and angry words. Audience members varied in their response. Some tapped their feet, others looked on in
bewilderment, while many strained to listen to the urgency of the voices. The music seemed to be a fusion of hip hop,
reggae, hard rock and acid jazz, with hints of more traditional instruments
from countries such as India or Pakistan.
But the mix was definitely driven by strong words of fighting injustice
and reclaiming our collective dignity.
And so began a small but lively workshop
entitled South Asian Music and Social
Change. A crew of activists and
music-lovers spent the previous night traveling all the way from Cornell
University to Toronto. Their mission:
to communicate themes of resistance and social justice to young South Asians in
Toronto - through music rather than speeches.
They came armed only with a computer and a handful of eclectic CDs. No banners, no megaphones. But the seemingly atypical set-up would not
disappoint. The community hall in
Toronto began to slowly fill with children, teenagers and adults. Most of the participants shared the fact
that they were Sri Lankan Tamil. But
their politics and tastes in music could not be more different.
The crew from Cornell was represented by
Nilanjana Bhattacharya. As part of her
PhD thesis, Nilanjana was exploring the connections between South Asian music
and struggles for social justice. Not
underestimating the crowd’s anticipation, Nilanjana quickly turned on the
music. The tunes were in your face and
tough, yet rhythmic and catchy. The
musicians called themselves Asian Dub
Foundation. They came from London,
England and were proud to be British, Indian, and Bangladeshi.
Long before ever signing a record deal,
members of Asian Dub Foundation
formed a broad collective to create music and talk urban politics. In those days, the racism and brutality of
the Thatcher regime had particularly targeted South Asian communities in
London. The persecution was
intolerable. The collective needed to
fight back. Whether battling racists in
the streets or playing new music for progressive youth, Asian Dub Foundation soon gained a reputation for standing up
through words, rhymes and beats. Their
music provided essential empowerment for groups and individuals involved in the
long and difficult struggles against racism, unemployment and institutional
violence.
Fast-forward to Toronto. The music now radiating from Nilanjana’s computer
was also spurring some thought-provoking discussion. As the participants began to react to the sounds and words of Asian Dub Foundation, they began to find
that not much had changed since the days of Thatcher. Now we had Bush, a war on people of colour, no gainful employment
and perhaps a higher level of frustration than ever.
Asian
Dub Foundation had a song
called Free Satpal Ram, a call to
justice for a Bangladeshi man who had been jailed for life after defending
himself against neo-nazi skinheads in London.
Had much really changed since then?
In cities across Canada and the United States, hundreds of people were
wasting away in jail for no other reason than being of Middle Eastern
origin. People of colour at American
universities were being forced to register with the FBI. A Canadian citizen was deported by the U.S.
to Syria, where he was now being tortured to death. The so-called “labour” government in London was reigning down
bombs on the people of Iraq. What the
hell was going on?!
These feelings offer only a glimpse of the
anger and frustration shared by millions today. The racism that Asian Dub
Foundation so eloquently fights against rings true with activists today
more than ever. If we plan to survive
and keep the struggle going, we desperately need music like this to nourish our
rattled souls. In the streets, the jail
cells, our neighborhoods and dance halls, these beats resonate loud and
clear.
weapons inspector with Homes Not Bombs. He is also a member of Amnesty International's Sri Lanka Co-Group.