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Interviewing the Interviewer
Prem Thakker on his Relentless Reporting on Gaza and U.S. Government Accountability
Illustrations by Yassa Almokhamad-Sarkisian
CÉLINE: Hi Prem! I just want to say that what we find particularly interesting in your reporting career are the ways in which you talk about climate, about Gaza, about so many different things. How do you see a subject like climate politics connect to the situation in Gaza?
PREM: A big part of my evolution was just trying to understand power dynamics, trying to understand incentive structures, motivations, broader systems of power and social management. And so I think with all these issues, of course, there are intersectional, material ways in which they all connect, whether it’s arguments regarding capitalism or production or military industrial complex and so on and so forth. But there’s also just this broader sense of the way in which many things seem to happen in a very undemocratic way, in a way that the more these things happen and the more intense scale at which they happen, the easier it is for them to continue happening, because people on an individual scale can only care about so much, can only manage so much, particularly when there’s so much they have to care about in their own personal lives and spheres. And the more these violent systemic issues escalate and intensify, the more overwhelming they are for an individual person, and the less bandwidth they have to care about them, leaving the government and the powers that be more leeway to escalate further. It’s a very cyclical, circular dynamic that understandably alienates people from each other. And so for me, a through-line between all this is that personal aspect of it, of trying to approach all these with a sense of generosity and empathy, in the same way that I can see myself as a subject in these things too.

AFEEF: We have been following your work for a while, but we really know you best from your interactions with the government, pushing Matt Miller into a corner. What does it feel like to face down the government nearly every day and try to hold them to account? Can you give us a bit of a peek behind the curtain?
PREM: I’m still a fairly young journalist; I’m fairly new to a lot of this, especially things like the government briefing rooms, and the way I approach it is just very earnestly. I’ve been trying my best to learn from the veterans in those rooms, because I think they’re all very talented and very good at what they do. But I think I’m just there to ask questions that many people have. There’s this veneer in Washington, for which stem certain assumptions about how things work, and therefore, there’s other questions to be asking that these veterans have been conditioned not to ask. There are a lot of basic tensions and contradictions in Washington, and not just about Gaza, and a lot of things that merit a more basic questioning. So I do this as much as I can in the Capitol briefing rooms. I’m just trying to ask questions that would be reasonable for any observer to be asking. That’s my goal. My general approach is just…if something seems a little confusing or weird or contradictory, or actively antithetical to purported government values, or purported government statements, those should be questioned.
AFEEF: Give us a bit of an understanding of the tension. Any anecdotes or memories that jump out?
PREM: One would just be that it’s been 273 days since the Israeli military killed Hind Rajab and her family members and the paramedics that were sent to save her. That has been a case that I’ve continually asked the government about. She’s just one amongst tens or hundreds of thousands of children who’ve been killed, and those paramedics are amongst hundreds who’ve been killed. Those are family members amongst the tens or hundreds of thousands who have been killed. But it sticks out because this specific case is so prominent. There is such an abundance of material evidence available—the horrifying emergency call, time stamps, locations, emergency workers and unit soldiers to interview and interrogate—that if it were a priority for the Israeli government, for the US government by proxy, that if it were a priority this would not take 273 days to get an accountability resolution. It’s very striking. This case is very emblematic and illustrative of how the US government has responded to how the Israeli government has operated, and how tall the stack is of alleged human rights violations.
CÉLINE: Totally. With all the evidence and all of the ways in which everything has been documented and verified, it seems that you’re always faced with the same sort of robotic answers by these people. What’s the best case scenario in that press room, and what’s the worst case scenario?
PREM: There has definitely been an understandable questioning by a lot of people of the merits of these briefings entirely, about what they’re for. And I understand that, especially for those who just see the videos and see the non- answers. This isn’t necessarily an aberration for government spokespeople, especially for US spokespeople, to operate this way. Their role is to defend the party line. To defend the policy of the US government. Obviously, what’s unique is just how much more visible this is with tools like Twitter and so on. I think I don’t actually have a perfect answer of what these briefings mean, or what the merits are. I’m just there as much as I can to try to find answers and to try to ask questions.
AFEEF: Your profile has probably risen a lot in the last few months, and I wonder what it’s been like personally for you to get TV time and go viral and what, what has that been like personally.
PREM: A difficult aspect of being in journalism, particularly journalism that is focused on politics, corruption, civil rights, foreign policy, the environment and so on, is that oftentimes the reason some journalists’ careers accelerate is because of work that they’re doing that’s focused on very horrific, sad things. I’m glad that people seem to be finding the work we’re doing helpful and beneficial, and that they resonate with it. But it’s a very weird and complex feeling to have your career as a journalist benefit from the work you’re doing when the work you’re doing is actually quite painful.
CÉLINE: How do you sustain your mental health? Do you have a practice? Do you have any rituals to stay afloat?
PREM: I’m surrounded by very, very good people who have hearts of gold and are also very compassionate and caring about the world, but are also compassionate and caring about what’s right in front of them, and so to be something that’s in front of them, and to be a benefactor of that caring compassion is very sustaining. I do like to meditate. I do like to play sports. I feel like a big part of life is just playing. And I feel like as much as we can play and can play with other people and just hang out is very sustaining. It’s understandable for people who are so immersed in these kinds of topics, whether it’s climate change or war or attacks on civil liberties, civil rights, systematic discrimination, racism, you name it, to just feel very hopeless, or to feel very conflicted about removing yourself from that, even for a moment. But it seems like if we’re going to care about the world, you also have to care about not just your own world, but the people who share that world with you, including your loved ones, your friends, your neighbors, and part of that involves enjoying being around them. And so I think it’s not just a philosophical act of resistance to love life and share good times. It’s important because it’s a coherent part of caring about the world. Those reminders that others have shared with me have been very grounding and important.
CÉLINE: What do you hope is the impact on culture from your work? Younger journalists seeing you in these rooms; that alone is an important image. You wearing black nail polish in these rooms. That’s another image. What is the impact that these images have on culture?
PREM: Going back to what we talked about earlier, about the assumptions of the way this place is supposed to work.
There are questions that no one really asks because that’s not the news of the day, that should not be controversial questions. Even very basic ones, like, “Hey, Senator, the world’s on fire. Why are you behaving this way? It’s the world’s hottest year on record. What do you say to your constituents who just suffered from a hurricane made worse by climate change?” I try to pursue those questions and not fall into the understandable tendency to just operate on the assumptions of how this place is supposed to work. Washington is supposed to serve people, so if myself and my colleagues can be a part of encouraging other journalists to embrace that spirit, to be much more empowered, and to see that other people feel that way too, and bring them to be even more engaged. I think that’s a good thing, because a lot of people in this country, for very good reason and in different flavors, are disenchanted, alienated, separated from politics. I empathize with that and sympathize with that, but I think it’s all the more important for them to be here too, to be skeptical, to be present, to be reading and learning.
That is my broader hope with the work we try to do: to listen to the disempowered and give them voice and to make them feel power, and to not make them feel like they’re always spoken down to. With regards to things like me wearing nail polish, or things like that, or just basically looking a little different. The world needs a little more color. What’s wrong with that?
In Conversation:
Illustration by:
For the last year, all of us have watched Prem Thakker. He has consistently interrogated the U.S State Department in their daily press briefings to shed major light on stories coming out of the genocide in Palestine. Always insistent and clear-eyed, Prem has never shied away from asking hard questions of people who are seemingly lying directly to the American public. Prem sat with Céline Semaan and Afeef Nessouli to explain what it has been like to go toe to toe with staffers from the State Department at daily press briefings, what it has been like to be thrust into the spotlight and what it is like to carry this heavy responsibility at a time when honest journalism is needed most.
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Filed under:
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{
"article":
{
"title" : "Interviewing the Interviewer: Prem Thakker on his Relentless Reporting on Gaza and U.S. Government Accountability",
"author" : "Prem Thakker, Céline Semaan, Afeef Nessouli",
"category" : "interviews",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/prem-thakker-reporting-gaza-us-accountability",
"date" : "2024-12-11 14:33:00 -0500",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/prem-thumb.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Illustrations by Yassa Almokhamad-Sarkisian",
"content" : "Illustrations by Yassa Almokhamad-SarkisianCÉLINE: Hi Prem! I just want to say that what we find particularly interesting in your reporting career are the ways in which you talk about climate, about Gaza, about so many different things. How do you see a subject like climate politics connect to the situation in Gaza?PREM: A big part of my evolution was just trying to understand power dynamics, trying to understand incentive structures, motivations, broader systems of power and social management. And so I think with all these issues, of course, there are intersectional, material ways in which they all connect, whether it’s arguments regarding capitalism or production or military industrial complex and so on and so forth. But there’s also just this broader sense of the way in which many things seem to happen in a very undemocratic way, in a way that the more these things happen and the more intense scale at which they happen, the easier it is for them to continue happening, because people on an individual scale can only care about so much, can only manage so much, particularly when there’s so much they have to care about in their own personal lives and spheres. And the more these violent systemic issues escalate and intensify, the more overwhelming they are for an individual person, and the less bandwidth they have to care about them, leaving the government and the powers that be more leeway to escalate further. It’s a very cyclical, circular dynamic that understandably alienates people from each other. And so for me, a through-line between all this is that personal aspect of it, of trying to approach all these with a sense of generosity and empathy, in the same way that I can see myself as a subject in these things too.AFEEF: We have been following your work for a while, but we really know you best from your interactions with the government, pushing Matt Miller into a corner. What does it feel like to face down the government nearly every day and try to hold them to account? Can you give us a bit of a peek behind the curtain?PREM: I’m still a fairly young journalist; I’m fairly new to a lot of this, especially things like the government briefing rooms, and the way I approach it is just very earnestly. I’ve been trying my best to learn from the veterans in those rooms, because I think they’re all very talented and very good at what they do. But I think I’m just there to ask questions that many people have. There’s this veneer in Washington, for which stem certain assumptions about how things work, and therefore, there’s other questions to be asking that these veterans have been conditioned not to ask. There are a lot of basic tensions and contradictions in Washington, and not just about Gaza, and a lot of things that merit a more basic questioning. So I do this as much as I can in the Capitol briefing rooms. I’m just trying to ask questions that would be reasonable for any observer to be asking. That’s my goal. My general approach is just…if something seems a little confusing or weird or contradictory, or actively antithetical to purported government values, or purported government statements, those should be questioned.AFEEF: Give us a bit of an understanding of the tension. Any anecdotes or memories that jump out?PREM: One would just be that it’s been 273 days since the Israeli military killed Hind Rajab and her family members and the paramedics that were sent to save her. That has been a case that I’ve continually asked the government about. She’s just one amongst tens or hundreds of thousands of children who’ve been killed, and those paramedics are amongst hundreds who’ve been killed. Those are family members amongst the tens or hundreds of thousands who have been killed. But it sticks out because this specific case is so prominent. There is such an abundance of material evidence available—the horrifying emergency call, time stamps, locations, emergency workers and unit soldiers to interview and interrogate—that if it were a priority for the Israeli government, for the US government by proxy, that if it were a priority this would not take 273 days to get an accountability resolution. It’s very striking. This case is very emblematic and illustrative of how the US government has responded to how the Israeli government has operated, and how tall the stack is of alleged human rights violations.CÉLINE: Totally. With all the evidence and all of the ways in which everything has been documented and verified, it seems that you’re always faced with the same sort of robotic answers by these people. What’s the best case scenario in that press room, and what’s the worst case scenario?PREM: There has definitely been an understandable questioning by a lot of people of the merits of these briefings entirely, about what they’re for. And I understand that, especially for those who just see the videos and see the non- answers. This isn’t necessarily an aberration for government spokespeople, especially for US spokespeople, to operate this way. Their role is to defend the party line. To defend the policy of the US government. Obviously, what’s unique is just how much more visible this is with tools like Twitter and so on. I think I don’t actually have a perfect answer of what these briefings mean, or what the merits are. I’m just there as much as I can to try to find answers and to try to ask questions.AFEEF: Your profile has probably risen a lot in the last few months, and I wonder what it’s been like personally for you to get TV time and go viral and what, what has that been like personally.PREM: A difficult aspect of being in journalism, particularly journalism that is focused on politics, corruption, civil rights, foreign policy, the environment and so on, is that oftentimes the reason some journalists’ careers accelerate is because of work that they’re doing that’s focused on very horrific, sad things. I’m glad that people seem to be finding the work we’re doing helpful and beneficial, and that they resonate with it. But it’s a very weird and complex feeling to have your career as a journalist benefit from the work you’re doing when the work you’re doing is actually quite painful.CÉLINE: How do you sustain your mental health? Do you have a practice? Do you have any rituals to stay afloat?PREM: I’m surrounded by very, very good people who have hearts of gold and are also very compassionate and caring about the world, but are also compassionate and caring about what’s right in front of them, and so to be something that’s in front of them, and to be a benefactor of that caring compassion is very sustaining. I do like to meditate. I do like to play sports. I feel like a big part of life is just playing. And I feel like as much as we can play and can play with other people and just hang out is very sustaining. It’s understandable for people who are so immersed in these kinds of topics, whether it’s climate change or war or attacks on civil liberties, civil rights, systematic discrimination, racism, you name it, to just feel very hopeless, or to feel very conflicted about removing yourself from that, even for a moment. But it seems like if we’re going to care about the world, you also have to care about not just your own world, but the people who share that world with you, including your loved ones, your friends, your neighbors, and part of that involves enjoying being around them. And so I think it’s not just a philosophical act of resistance to love life and share good times. It’s important because it’s a coherent part of caring about the world. Those reminders that others have shared with me have been very grounding and important.CÉLINE: What do you hope is the impact on culture from your work? Younger journalists seeing you in these rooms; that alone is an important image. You wearing black nail polish in these rooms. That’s another image. What is the impact that these images have on culture?PREM: Going back to what we talked about earlier, about the assumptions of the way this place is supposed to work.There are questions that no one really asks because that’s not the news of the day, that should not be controversial questions. Even very basic ones, like, “Hey, Senator, the world’s on fire. Why are you behaving this way? It’s the world’s hottest year on record. What do you say to your constituents who just suffered from a hurricane made worse by climate change?” I try to pursue those questions and not fall into the understandable tendency to just operate on the assumptions of how this place is supposed to work. Washington is supposed to serve people, so if myself and my colleagues can be a part of encouraging other journalists to embrace that spirit, to be much more empowered, and to see that other people feel that way too, and bring them to be even more engaged. I think that’s a good thing, because a lot of people in this country, for very good reason and in different flavors, are disenchanted, alienated, separated from politics. I empathize with that and sympathize with that, but I think it’s all the more important for them to be here too, to be skeptical, to be present, to be reading and learning.That is my broader hope with the work we try to do: to listen to the disempowered and give them voice and to make them feel power, and to not make them feel like they’re always spoken down to. With regards to things like me wearing nail polish, or things like that, or just basically looking a little different. The world needs a little more color. What’s wrong with that?"
}
,
"relatedposts": [
{
"title" : "Legalized Occupation: Dissecting Israel’s Plan to Seize Gaza",
"author" : "EIP Editors",
"category" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/legalized-occupation-dissecting-israels-plan-to-seize-gaza",
"date" : "2025-08-09 10:13:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/EIP_Cover-Legalized_Occupation.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Israel’s newly approved plan to “take control” of Gaza City and other key areas of the enclave is being presented to the world as a security imperative. In reality, it is an extension of a long-standing settler-colonial project—another chapter in the ongoing dispossession of the Palestinian people.",
"content" : "Israel’s newly approved plan to “take control” of Gaza City and other key areas of the enclave is being presented to the world as a security imperative. In reality, it is an extension of a long-standing settler-colonial project—another chapter in the ongoing dispossession of the Palestinian people.The language of “control,” “buffer zones,” and “security perimeters” is not neutral. It is a calculated rhetorical strategy designed to obscure the material realities of occupation, annexation, and ethnic cleansing. This is not a temporary maneuver aimed at stability. It is the consolidation of power through the seizure of land, the dismantling of Palestinian civil society, and the deepening of Gaza’s humanitarian catastrophe—all in violation of international law.The Political Calculus Behind the OperationTo understand the decision, we must first acknowledge its political function for Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. Facing mounting domestic discontent, the collapse of public trust, and arrest warrants from the International Criminal Court for war crimes, Netanyahu is cornered. His far-right coalition partners demand an uncompromising expansionist agenda, and his own political survival depends on delivering it.Occupation has always been a cornerstone of this political project. By launching a military campaign to seize Gaza’s largest urban center, Netanyahu signals strength to his base while sidestepping accountability for the escalating humanitarian disaster. That disaster is not collateral damage—it is a form of collective punishment meant to force submission. It is also a bargaining chip: an occupied, starved, and displaced population is easier to control and harder to resist.A Continuation of the NakbaThis plan is not an anomaly; it is the latest manifestation of a decades-long pattern. Since the Nakba of 1948, the forced displacement of Palestinians and the destruction of their communities have been central tools of state policy. In Gaza today, we see the same logic: empty the land of its people, destroy the infrastructure of life, and claim it under the guise of security.International law is explicit: annexation through military force is illegal. The Fourth Geneva Convention prohibits collective punishment and the transfer of an occupying power’s civilian population into occupied territory. Yet, as with the occupation of the West Bank and East Jerusalem, Israel has consistently acted with impunity—shielded by the political, financial, and military backing of powerful allies.The Humanitarian FrontGaza has already been described by UN officials as a “graveyard for children.” The enclave’s population has endured a near-total blockade for 18 years, compounded by repeated bombardments that have destroyed hospitals, schools, and basic infrastructure. According to the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA), the majority of Gaza’s 2.3 million residents have been displaced since the start of this latest escalation. Food insecurity is at catastrophic levels; medical supplies are almost nonexistent.Israel’s seizure of Gaza City—home to hundreds of thousands—will further collapse what remains of civilian life. Humanitarian organizations warn that the move will trigger mass displacement, deepen famine, and cut off the few remaining supply routes. These are not accidental outcomes. They are part of a strategy that weaponizes deprivation as a means of political control.Narrative as a BattlefieldThe battle over Gaza is not only military—it is discursive. The words chosen by political leaders and media outlets shape how the world understands, or misunderstands, what is unfolding. In Netanyahu’s framing, Israel is not occupying Gaza; it is “liberating” it from Hamas. In this telling, Palestinian civilians become invisible, reduced to collateral casualties in a counterterrorism campaign.This is why reframing is crucial. We must reject the sanitized vocabulary of “security zones” and “temporary control” and speak plainly: this is occupation, annexation, and the forcible seizure of Palestinian land. It is not liberation, it is domination. And it is not about peace, it is about power.Global ConnectionsIsrael’s actions in Gaza are not isolated from broader global struggles. From the forced removal of Indigenous peoples in North America to the apartheid regime in South Africa, the tactics of dispossession, militarization, and narrative control follow a familiar pattern. This is why solidarity movements around the world—led by Indigenous, Black, and other colonized peoples—see their own struggles reflected in Palestine’s.The link is not merely symbolic. Israel’s military technology, surveillance systems, and counterinsurgency tactics are exported globally, often marketed as “field-tested” in Gaza and the West Bank. These technologies underpin policing, border control, and repression from Ferguson to Kashmir. In this way, Gaza is both a site of profound local suffering and a laboratory for global authoritarianism.Discrediting the PlanIf the goal is to discredit this plan in the eyes of the international public, the strategy must be twofold: expose contradictions and center Palestinian agency.Expose contradictionsNetanyahu insists Israel does not seek to govern Gaza permanently, yet the seizure of land, establishment of military perimeters, and destruction of civilian infrastructure point toward long-term control.Israel claims to act in self-defense, yet the scale and method of its campaign far exceed any proportional response under international law.Center Palestinian agencyElevate Palestinian voices—journalists, doctors, teachers—who are documenting life under siege.Highlight grassroots forms of resilience and resistance that defy the portrayal of Palestinians as passive victims or inevitable threats.Name the enablersIdentify the governments, corporations, and financial institutions providing material or diplomatic cover for the occupation.Show how this complicity undermines their stated commitments to human rights and international law.Connect to global strugglesFrame Gaza as part of a worldwide resistance to settler colonialism, authoritarianism, and militarized capitalism.Build coalitions across movements to break the isolation that occupation depends upon.Everything Is PoliticalFrom a political-analyst perspective, the key insight is that this is not simply a geopolitical crisis—it is a crisis of narrative. If we accept the occupying power’s framing, we have already conceded the first battle. That is why the work of reframing—naming what is happening, connecting it to historical patterns, and centering the perspectives of the colonized—is not ancillary to the struggle; it is the struggle.In the end, Israel’s plan to seize Gaza is not about security—it is about sovereignty. Not Palestinian sovereignty, but the sovereignty of a state built on the denial of another people’s right to exist on their land. That is the truth the world must see clearly, and that is the truth we must continue to tell, relentlessly, until occupation becomes not a political fact but a historical memory."
}
,
{
"title" : "Ziad Rahbani and the Art of Creative Rebellion",
"author" : "Céline Semaan",
"category" : "essays",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/ziad-rahbani-creative-rebellion",
"date" : "2025-07-28 07:01:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/2025_7_for-EIP-ziad-rahbani.jpg",
"excerpt" : "When I turned fourteen in Beirut, I came across Ziad Rahbani’s groundbreaking work. I immediately felt connected to him, his words, his perspective and his unflinching commitment to liberation for our people and for Palestine. My first love introduced me to his revolutionary plays, his unique contributions to Arab music and very soon I had listened to all of his plays and expanded my understanding of our own culture and history.",
"content" : "When I turned fourteen in Beirut, I came across Ziad Rahbani’s groundbreaking work. I immediately felt connected to him, his words, his perspective and his unflinching commitment to liberation for our people and for Palestine. My first love introduced me to his revolutionary plays, his unique contributions to Arab music and very soon I had listened to all of his plays and expanded my understanding of our own culture and history.Ziad Rahbani’s passing marks more than the end of a brilliant life—it marks the closing of a chapter in the cultural history of our region. His funeral wasn’t just a ceremony, it was a collective reckoning; crowds following his exit from the hospital to the cemetery. The streets knew what many governments tried to forget: that he gave voice to the people’s truths, to our frustrations, our absurdities, our grief, and our undying hope for justice. Yet he died as an unsung hero.Born into a family that shaped the musical soul of Lebanon, Ziad could have taken the easy path of replication. Instead, he shattered the mold. From his early plays like Sahriyye and Nazl el-Surour, he upended the elitism of classical Arabic theatre by placing the working class, the absurdity of war, and the contradictions of society at the center of his work. He spoke like the people spoke. He made art in the language of the taxi driver, the student, the mother waiting for news of her son.In his film work Film Ameriki Tawil, Ziad used satire not only as critique, but as rebellion. He exposed the rot of sectarian politics in Lebanon with surgical precision, never sparing anyone, including the leftist circles he moved in. He saw clearly: that political purity was a myth, and liberation required uncomfortable truths. His work, deeply rooted in class consciousness, refused to glorify any side of a war that tore his country apart.And yet, Ziad Rahbani never lost his clarity on Palestine. While others wavered, diluted their positions, or folded into diplomacy, Ziad remained steadfast. His support for the Palestinian struggle was not an aesthetic position—it was a political and ethical commitment. And he did so not as an outsider or savior, but as someone who understood that our futures are intertwined. That the liberation of Palestine is integral to the liberation of Lebanon. That anti-sectarianism and anti-Zionism are not contradictions, but extensions of each other.He brought jazz into Arabic music not as a novelty, but as a defiant act of cultural fusion—proof that our identities are not fixed, but fluid, diasporic, ever-evolving. He blurred the lines between Western musical forms and Arabic lyricism with intention, not mimicry. His collaborations with his mother, the legendary Fairuz, carried the weight of generational dialogue, but his own voice always broke through—wry, melancholic, grounded in the everyday.Ziad taught us that being a revolutionary doesn’t require a uniform or a slogan. It requires listening. It requires holding complexity, laughing in the face of despair, and making room for joy even when the world is on fire. He reminded us that culture is the deepest infrastructure of any resistance movement. He refused to be sanitized, censored, or simplified.As we mourn him, we also inherit his clarity. For artists, for organizers, for thinkers: Ziad Rahbani gave us a blueprint. Create without permission. Tell the truth. Fight for Palestine without compromising your own roots. And never forget that the people will always hear what is real.He was, and will always be, a compass for creative rebellion."
}
,
{
"title" : "Saul Williams: Nothing is Just a Song",
"author" : "Saul Williams, Collis Browne",
"category" : "interviews",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/saul-williams-interview",
"date" : "2025-07-21 21:35:46 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/EIP_SaulWilliams_Shot_7_0218.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Saul Williams: Many artists would like to believe that there is some sort of sublime neutrality that art can deliver, that it is beyond or above the idea of politics. However, art is sometimes used as a tool of Empire, and if we are not careful, then our art is used as propaganda, and thus, it becomes essential for us to arm our art with our viewpoints, with our perspective, so that it cannot be misused. I have always operated from the position that all my work carries politics in it, that there are politics embedded in it. And I’ve never really understood, if you are aiming to be an artist, why you wouldn’t aim to speak directly to the times. Addressing the political doesn’t have to take away from the personal intimacy of your work.",
"content" : "Collis Browne: Is all music and art really political?Saul Williams: Many artists would like to believe that there is some sort of sublime neutrality that art can deliver, that it is beyond or above the idea of politics. However, art is sometimes used as a tool of Empire, and if we are not careful, then our art is used as propaganda, and thus, it becomes essential for us to arm our art with our viewpoints, with our perspective, so that it cannot be misused. I have always operated from the position that all my work carries politics in it, that there are politics embedded in it. And I’ve never really understood, if you are aiming to be an artist, why you wouldn’t aim to speak directly to the times. Addressing the political doesn’t have to take away from the personal intimacy of your work.Even now, we are reading the writings of Palestinian poets in Gaza and the West Bank, not to mention those who are part of the diaspora, who are charting their feelings and intimate experiences while living through a genocide. These works of art are all politically charged because they are charged with a reality that is fully suppressed by oppressive networks and powers that control them.Shakespeare’s work was always political. He found a way to speak about power to the face of power, knowing they would be in the audience. But also found a way to play with and talk to the “groundlings,” the common people who were in the audience as well.Collis Browne: Was there a moment when you realized that your music could be used as a tool of resistance?Saul Williams: Yeah, I was in third grade, about eight or nine years old. I had been cast in a play in my elementary school. I loved the process of not only performing, but of sitting around the table and breaking down what the language meant and what the objective and the psychology of the character was, and what that meant during the time it was written. I came home and told my parents that I wanted to be an actor when I grew up. My father had the typical response: “I’ll support you as an actor if you get a law degree.” My mother responded by saying, “You should do your next school report on Paul Robeson, he was an actor and a lawyer.”So I did my next school report on Paul Robeson. And what I discovered was that here was an African American man, born in 1898, who had come to an early realization as an actor that the messages of the films he was being cast in—and he was a huge star—went against his own beliefs, his own anti-colonial and anti-imperial beliefs. In the 1930s, he started talking about why we needed to invest in independent cinema. In 1949, during the McCarthy era, he had his passport taken from him so he could no longer travel outside of the US, because he refused to acknowledge that the enemies of the US were his enemies as well. He felt there was no reason Black people should be signing up to fight for the US Empire when they were going home and getting lynched.In 1951, he presented a mandate to the UN called “We Charge Genocide.” In it he charged the US Government with the genocide of African Americans because of the white mobs who were lynching Black Americans on a regular basis. [Editor’s note: the petition charges the US Government with genocide through the endorsement of both racism and “monopoly capitalism,” without which “the persistent, constant, widespread, institutionalized commission of the crime of genocide would be impossible.”] When Robeson met with President Truman, Truman said, “I’d like to respond, but there’s an election coming up, so I have to be careful.”Paul Robeson sang songs of working-class people, songs that trade unionists sang, songs that miners sang, songs that all types of workers sang across the world. He identified with the workers and with the working class, regardless of his fame. He was ridiculed by the American Government and even had his passport revoked for his activism. At that early age, I learned that you could sing songs that could get you labeled as an enemy of the state.I grew up in Newburgh, New York, which is about an hour upstate from New York City. One of my neighbors would often come sing at my father’s church. At the time, I did not understand why my dad would allow this white guy with his guitar or banjo to come sing at our church when we had an amazing gospel choir. I couldn’t understand why we were singing these school songs with this dude. When I finally asked my parents, they said, “You have to understand that Pete—they were talking about Pete Seeger—is responsible for popularizing some of the songs you sing in school.” He wrote songs like “If I Had a Hammer,” and he too was blacklisted by the US government because of the songs he chose to sing and the people he chose to sing them for, and the people he chose to sing them with. I learned at a very early age that music and art were full of politics. Enough politics to get you labeled as the enemy of the state. Enough politics to get your passport taken, or to be imprisoned.I was also learning about my parents’ peers, artists whom they loved and adored. Artists like Sonia Sanchez, Amiri Baraka, and Nikki Giovanni, all from the Black Arts Movement. Larry Neal and Amiri Baraka made a statement when they started the Black Arts Repertory Theatre School in Harlem that said essentially that all art should serve a function, and that function should be to liberate Black minds.It is from that movement that hip-hop was born. I was lucky enough to witness the birth of hip-hop. At first, it was playful, it was fun, but by the mid to late 1980s, it began finding its voice with groups like Public Enemy, KRS-One, Queen Latifa, Rakim, and the Jungle Brothers. These are groups that started using and expressing Black Liberation politics in the music, which uplifted it, made it sound better, and made it hit harder. The first gangster rap was that… when it was gangster, when it was directly challenging the country it was being born in.As a teenager, I identified as a rapper and an actor. I would argue with school kids who insisted, “It’s not even music. They’re just talking.” I would have to defend hip-hop as music, sometimes even to my parents, who found the language crass. But when I played artists like KRS-One and Public Enemy for my parents, they said, “Oh, I see what they’re doing here.”When Public Enemy rapped, “Elvis was a hero to most, But he never meant shit to me you see, Straight up racist that sucker was, Simple and plain, Motherfuck him and John Wayne, ‘Cause I’m Black and I’m proud, I’m ready and hyped plus I’m amped, Most of my heroes don’t appear on no stamps,” my parents were like Amen. They understood. They understood why I needed to blast that music in my room 24/7. They understood.When the music spoke to me in that way, suddenly I could pull off moves on the dance floor like doing a flip that I couldn’t do before. That’s the power of music. That’s power embedded in music. That’s why Fela Kuti said that music is the weapon of the future. And, of course, there’s Nina Simone and Billie Holiday. What’s Billie Holiday’s most memorable song? “Strange Fruit.” That voice connected, was speaking directly to the times she was living in. It transcended the times, where to this day, when you hear this song and you understand that the “strange fruit” hanging from Southern trees are Black people who have been lynched, you understand how the power of the voice, when you connect it to something that is charged with the reality of the times, takes on a greater shape.Collis Browne: Public Enemy broke open so much. I grew up in Toronto, in a mostly white community, but I was into some of the bigger American hip-hop acts who were coming out. Public Enemy rose to a new level. Before them, we were only connecting with punk and hardcore music as the music of rebellion.Saul Williams: Public Enemy laid down the groundwork for what hip-hop is: “the voice of the voiceless.” It was only after Public Enemy that you saw the emergence of huge groups in France, Germany, Bulgaria, Egypt, and across the world. There were big acts before them. Run DMC, for instance, but when Public Enemy came out, marginalized groups heard their music and said, “That’s for us. Yes, that’s for us.” It was immediately understood as music of resistance.Collis Browne: What have you seen or listened to out in the world that has a clear political goal, but has been appropriated and watered down?Saul Williams: We can stay on Public Enemy for that. Under Secretary Blinken, Chuck D became a US Global Music Ambassador during the genocide in Gaza. There are photos of him standing beside Secretary Blinken, accepting that role, while understanding that the US has always used music as a cultural propaganda tool to express soft power. I remember learning about how the US uses this “soft power” when I was working in the mid-2000s with a Swiss composer, who has now passed, named Thomas Kessler. He wrote a symphony based on one of my books, Said the Shotgun to the Head, and we were performing it with the Cologne, Germany symphony orchestra, when I heard from the head of the orchestra that, in fact, their main financier was the US Government through the CIA.During the Cold War, it was crucial for the American Government to put money into the arts throughout Western Europe to try to express this idea of “freedom,” as opposed to what was happening in the Eastern (Communist) Bloc. So it was a long time between when the US Government started enlisting musicians and other artists in their propaganda campaigns and when I encountered this information.There’s a documentary called Soundtrack to a Coup d’État, which talks about how the US Government used (uses) music and musicians to co-opt movements and propagate the idea of American freedom and democracy outside the US in the hope of winning over the citizens of other countries without them even realizing that so much of that art is there to question the system itself, not to celebrate it. Unfortunately, there are situations in which an artist’s work is co-opted to be used as propaganda, and the artist buys into it. They become indoctrinated, and you realize that we’re all susceptible to the possibility of taking that bait."
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