When the celebrations kicked off in Ethiopia to mark the 60th anniversary of Bob Marley’s birth, it probably went unnoticed by the very people for whom he sang. Marley is still seen on T-shirts, posters and Africa Unite pop-up buttons. But as his merchandising status grows, his message is lost.
Marley would never have said that his message was meant only for black people, but his own upbringing ensured it holds particular relevance to those who would have known the pinch of poverty and racism.
Marley’s philosophy of racial pride gave black people a new way of thinking about themselves. The Bob Marley Foundation recognises this, and on his birthday has seized on his One Love refrain to organise ‘Violence Free Day” in his homeland, Jamaica.
But this level of awareness is not found elsewhere. Marley introduced millions of black Britons to their first political thought, but they have turned their backs on his legacy. Seeing their own children worshipping at the altar of bling, they say nothing: these once politically aware, switched-on people hear 50 Cent’s Wanksta’s cool beat and think they don’t need to worry about the lyrics.
Even Jamaica now merely pimps Marley’s legacy as a tourist attraction.
The Bob Marley Museum in Kingston does little to entice young black people through its doors.
The philosophy of Marley has been replaced by the teachings of MTV. The young are told how bling their lives could be if only they had a platinum medallion and a scantily dressed chick.
If nothing is done to plug this hole in our children’s historical knowledge soon, his legacy will go the way of Rosa Parks’s — good only for a name check in an Outkast CD.
Explaining Marley’s legacy in more than musical terms would be a start — perhaps his lyrics could be used in schools to prompt current affairs debates. But in the end, Marley’s music is the best introduction to his deeper thoughts. So if you’ve got them, play them. —